Page 8 of Forbidden Daddy
"Yes," I gasped as his teeth found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. "God, yes."
The confession seemed to snap something inside him. His hands moved with urgent purpose, one tangling in my hair while the other explored the newly exposed skin of my thigh. I could hear the metallic clink of his belt buckle hitting the floor, and I could feel the evidence of how much he wanted this pressed against my hip.
His hands were at my waist, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around him as he carried me deeper into his office, papers scattering to the floor as he set me down on the edge of his massive mahogany desk.
Time seemed to melt around us, every action distant and disconnected. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his hands against my body, the heat of his mouth as he kissed along my neck, the way my body burned for him like nothing else in my life.
Roman’s hardness pressed against me, teasing and unrelenting as he hooked his fingers under the thin strip of lace that had served as the final barrier between us. I rolled my hips against him, desperate for friction, my inner muscles clenching with anticipation.
He drove into me with one forceful thrust, sending us both careening over the edge of the cliff we’d been clinging to. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to come alive as he filled me, each delicious inch of his length a torture and a pleasure I couldn’t escape.
My nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed deeper, so deep I wasn’t sure where I ended, and he began. He felt even better than I’d imagined, his body perfectly sculpted, his rhythm punishing and relentless.
There was no room for questions or shame here, no room for uncertainty. There was only Roman’s dark possessiveness and my unspoken admission of submission.
This was bad, and it was wrong, and it was utterly unforgettable.
"Cassie," he growled, pulling me even closer, burying himself inside me until I whimpered at the overwhelming sensation. "Look at me."
I opened my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them. He was staring down at me, his gaze hooded and hungry, his cheeks flushed with color, and there was something so vulnerable and raw about his expression in that moment that it took my breath away.
Something primal flashed in his eyes, and then his mouth was on mine again, swallowing my moan as his hand squeezed my breast. The heat between us exploded like a supernova, yearsof careful professional distance disintegrating in the space of a heartbeat.
I arched against him, my body moving on pure instinct. This was madness—we were in his office in the middle of the workday, and anyone could walk in. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not when he was fucking me like I was something precious and dangerous all at once.
His rhythm was punishing now, his fingers digging into my hips with bruising force. I was powerless to do anything but ride the wave of his pleasure, caught up in a storm I’d been dreaming about for months, only to realize it had been nothing compared to the real thing.
His body was a vice, his movements bordering on savage, and I realized the quiet reserve I thought I’d cracked during our conversations wasn’t just a front. It was a dam holding back the aggression I should’ve known lurked beneath the surface.
Every nerve ending in my body buzzed as he pushed me closer to the edge, and I clung to him like a life raft, burying my face against his neck, lost in the storm.
"Look at me," he growled, his voice threaded with warning.
"Roman," I gasped, the words coming out in a moan.
"I said, look at me." He pulled back just enough for me to see the danger in his eyes. "You’re mine now, Cassie. Don’t forget that."
The claim burst over me like a live wire, heat flashing down every limb, tingling at the base of my spine. I came harder than I ever had before, my vision blurred and my grip on reality fading like an old photograph.
All I could see was Roman. All I could feel was Roman. All I could taste and smell and touch was Roman, consuming every bit of my sensory input until there was nothing but him.
He surged into me one last time, sending another jolt through my over-sensitized body, then followed me over the edge with a low growl I felt more than heard. His mouth crashed down on mine again, his kiss wild and unrestrained, his hips flexing against me in short jerks as he found his release.
We stayed frozen like that for long moments, breathing hard, our bodies still pressed together. Reality crept back in —the expensive office, the inappropriate situation, the fact I’d just had the best orgasm of my life with my boss during working hours.
Roman pulled out and stepped back, dressing with practiced efficiency. He moved with efficient grace, straightening his clothes and running a hand through his disheveled hair. When he looked at me again, the mask of control had slipped back into place, but I could see the satisfaction burning in his eyes.
I fumbled with my skirt, trying to smooth it back down over my thighs with shaking hands. My hair was a mess, my lipstick was gone, and I probably looked exactly like what I was—a woman who’d just been thoroughly ravaged on her boss’s desk.
"Cassie." His voice was calm now, back to that professional tone that made shivers run down my spine for entirely different reasons.
I looked up at him, uncertain. Was he going to pretend this hadn’t happened? Fire me for inappropriate conduct? Tell me it was a mistake?
Instead, he stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His finger traced along my jawline, gentle but possessive, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.
"You’re mine now," he whispered, and there was something in his voice that made it sound less like a declaration and more like a promise. "Let’s hope you can behave."
The words sent another thrill through me, even as my rational mind tried to process what had just happened. This wasn’t just about a mistaken text anymore. This was something else entirely—something dangerous and addictive and completely beyond my control.
