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I’d wrapped up my meeting, checked up on her—yeah, I’d bugged her phone. So? Don’t judge. Only I can keep her safe… And if that means I am stalking her? Well, it's for her own good, right?

"Gigi," I breathe. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" She grabs the hem of her top and pulls it off. No bra… Fuck… Her pink nipples perk up, inviting me to come closer, closer. I bump into the desk...Shit, when had I bridged the distance between us?

"Victoria, have you forgotten the rules?"

"On the contrary, Saint." She climbs up onto the desk on all fours. "I’m submitting to you completely. This is what you want, right? Me…begging for you?" She crawls toward me, her breasts jiggling; her beautiful shoulders arch with each forward motion.

"You don’t know what you are doing."

"Don’t I?" Half-way over, she stops. Dropping down, she picks up a riding crop with her mouth.

She glances up, the strip of leather caught between her pearly white teeth. Fuck, fucking fuck. My groin hardens and a pulse flares to life at my temples, behind my eyelids, even in my fucking balls. "You’re playing a dangerous game," I growl.

She glides forward, head held up, green gaze daring me to inch forward, to bend from my waist, to take the offered object of punishment from her. I shake out the modified whip. It whistles through the air. She flinches and a bead of sweat dots her upper lip.

"I know what you’re doing, Gigi." She’s trying to distract me. I drag the switch between my fingers. Her gaze drops to my hands. I slap the crop on my outstretched palm. Her shoulders shudder and her breathing grows erratic.

"You want this?"

She touches her tongue to her lips. My hand shakes. It fucking shakes as I hold it up.

"Say it."

"I…I…"

"Now."

"I want it, please. Saint. Use it on me. Make it hurt enough that I forget everything else that came before it. Own me, Saint. Hit me on my behind, then fuck me in the arse."

"Bloody fuck." My vision tunnels, and my cock insists on springing forward—ready, impatient to be done with all of the preliminaries. To simply bury my aching self inside her welcoming heat, to finally come home. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," I snarl.

"Those… Those were the names of the three cats Lennon had at one point," she answers.

I laugh, "You’re perfect, you know that? The answer to my twisted prayers." I push the tip of the crop under her chin.

She stills.

Drag the leather down her throat, between her breasts, down the concave of her stomach to where the bud of her clit peers out.

She shudders. "Saint…"

I withdraw the crop the same way, drag it under my nose, "Your scent, Gigi." I glare at her. "The sweetness of your arousal is more potent that honey." I swipe my tongue up the strip of hide.

A whine bleeds from her lips.

I swipe the crop through the air. "Turn around."

She instantly complies. The creamy mounds of her arse thrust out at me.

"Fucking gorgeous."

She swivels her head.

"Don’t," I admonish her.

She faces forward.