Page 61 of The Owner's Temptation

Except now, in my mind—he does too.

Lucian Vale stands behind me, pressing me forward over the edge of his big desk. My hands brace against it, fingers splayed wide, heart pounding.

I walk to the bed and bend slightly, just enough to lean forward, placing one palm on the mattress. I close my eyes and lose myself in the fantasy.

He’d come up behind me.One hand sliding around my waist, firm and sure. The other gently brushing my hair aside, revealing my neck for his mouth.

“You’ve been such a good girl this week,” he’d whisper—rough and deep, all scruff and sin. The kind of praise that burns.

The sound of it in my head makes me shiver.

I click the vibrator on.

Slow at first. Teasing. I slip it beneath my dress, up along the edge of my stocking. I imagine it’s his hand. The low growl he’d let out when he discovers the suspenders, the lace, the heat.

His palm would drag along my thigh. Fingers push aside the thin fabric of my panties and find me already wanting.

“So wet,”he’d murmur against my skin, voice reverent. Like he’s in awe. Like he wants to devour me for it.

My mouth parts at the image. I work the toy in slow, deliberate circles over my clit, my hips rocking on instinct.

I smell him. His cologne—smoke and spice and desire—clings to my imagination like a second skin. Ifeelhim, too. The weight of his presence behind me. Not touching. Just there. Always there.

Silent. Watching.

"You’re doing so well… just like that."

My breath catches as I press the toy more firmly against myself, the pulsing vibrations syncing with the throb building inside me. My legs part a little wider. My back arches.

The movement is instinctual, involuntary.

"That’s it, beautiful. Let me see how pretty you play with my pussy."

A whimper escapes me at the thoughts I’m putting into my own mind.

How he would talk to me. How he would talk me through playing with myself. Making myself come simply for the pleasure of him watching me.

I roll my hips in slow, steady circles, dragging the pressure along the place I need it most. Every nerve in my body feels wound tight, every stroke drawing me closer. Closer.

"Such a good girl. You always obey when it matters."

My mouth parts as I moan. Louder this time, not holding back the pleasure warming my body.

I imagine his breath on my neck.

The warmth of his body behind mine.

The rasp of his voice, low and commanding—so close, I could feel the words slide across my skin.

"Come for me. Right here, in my hands. Show me who you belong to."

The line hits like a spark to dry kindling.

My body tenses—pleasure coiling, tightening, ready to explode.

"I want to feel you fall apart—so do it. Come for me, beautiful."

The thought sends me over the edge.

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