I tease her once more—switching to the other thigh and kissing a trail higher.
 
 “Conrad,” she whines, and I bite back a grin, blowing a cool stream over her heat.
 
 Her hips lift, hunting friction.
 
 Who am I to deny a goddess?
 
 I pull her to the edge and go straight for her clit—feasting, licking, sucking, even fucking her with my tongue. Nothing restrains me. I give in and ravage her.
 
 Her fingers twist into my hair; she cries out as the first orgasm slams through her. Her cunt pulses around my tongue as my nose grinds that tight little bundle of nerves.
 
 It’s raw, animal, messy as hell—and I don’t care. I don’t stop. At this point, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
 
 One orgasm melts into another. Then another. Her thighs shake on my shoulders, and her cries fill the room.
 
 “Conrad, please stop!” she screams, and with one last kiss, I lean back and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
 
 Her chest—and even her flat stomach—rises and falls as she drags in air.
 
 Is there anything more spectacular than a woman blissed out and wrecked from multiple orgasms? No. Nothing makes me feel more like a man than satisfyingthiswoman.
 
 I grab my phone, snap a photo, and drop it in the secure group chat.
 
 Mav
 
 You were supposed to call me before rewarding her.
 
 Fuck. That’s right.
 
 Con
 
 Shit, man. Sorry—got carried away. She gave me intel that turned out useful. Storm, I’ve got a few more people for you to fire.
 
 Storm
 
 Legal’s annoyed about wrongful-termination suits. They want documentation. Need it airtight.
 
 I glance at Phoenix sprawled across my desk—cheeks flushed, blush sliding down her neck to the tops of her breasts. Her breathing has slowed, and her eyes are heavy.
 
 My girl hasn’t been sleeping. She needs rest. After coming like that, she needs to be held and she needs aftercare. But I have an empire to run.
 
 Con
 
 I have proof. Lots of it. Have Legal meet us in my office in an hour. Once I get Phoenix to bed, we need a chat. I’m pressing charges against these assholes.
 
 Atticus
 
 Won’t that hurt our bottom line? Let’s not make fifteen percent harder by being a dick. We’ve already got our plates full with bullshit to handle.
 
 Con
 
 Lawyers are on retainer and an expense we can’t cut if we wanted to. Besides, the message this sends should stop anyone else from skimming.
 
 Con
 
 Mav, meet me in my room in ten? Need your help.
 
 Mav