Page 13 of Devoted
Before I can reply and ask what the fuck just happened, he’s storming out the swinging door and back toward the main room.
Remorse claws at me. I shouldn’t have done that. He was just being nice and making sure his employee didn’t have a badinjury, and I… Well, I’m not really sure what I did, but it was the wrong thing to do if he reacted that way.
But why did he carry me?He was only concerned I’d blame him somehow.
But why did he beg to touch me?
As I’m securing the stretchy cloth with a pin, Emma comes into the back room with a bag full of ice. “Knight said you needed this?” she asks as she sits down on the bench with me. The ice soothes my bruise immediately when she presses it to my skin. “Girl, what was that all about? Hecarriedyour ass in here.”
“Em, I wish I knew.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
KNIGHT
Not very first class of you.
An insufferable week has gone by since the stairwell incident with Vivian. The memory of her curvaceous body in my arms has invaded every free second of my waking hours.
Thankfully, work has kept me occupied enough with a very convenient midweek business trip to another state. I don’t want to say Evelyn can read my mind, but my second-in-command always seems to know when I need a change of view.
Even while surrounding myself with the buzz of an up-and-coming arts district in a bustling city, I’ve been tempted to fly home early every night so I can catch glimpses of Vivian through her windows. It’s the closest I can get to her without being tempted to give in to her absolute pull on me.
The battle was nearly lost when she placed her delicate foot on me and, in a way, took ownership of me without realizing it. But… maybe she did realize it? The way she arched her body and how her eyes burned into mine while she gave commands—I almost couldn’t breathe.
If things had gone further in the back room, I don’t think I could have ever recovered. It would have been an enormous mistake, I kept telling myself—one I cannot afford to make. Of course, nothing could cease the tension like me being a bastard and saying something mean before running out of the room like the coward I am.
She owns me, but I cannot have her.
Is it a blessing or a curse to know she reciprocates the pull? Certainly, she does not feel it to the same extent I do. I’m well aware of how intense my feelings for her are, and I know she, in her right mind, doesn’t feel the same.
The reasons to stay away from her seem to grow every day.
1. She is your employee.
2. She is seventeen years younger than you.
3. She is the sister of someone you were previously involved with.
4. She thinks you’re an asshole because you’ve been acting like an asshole.
Despite the growing list, my nagging conscience was suffocated by the need coursing through my body following our encounter.
After rushing home, I stalked toward my bedroom, picked up Vivian’s forgotten plaid shirt, and threw it to the floor. The fabric had lost her scent in the month it had sat on my bed, but simply knowing it was hers was all I needed.
I remember sliding from the force of falling to my knees, the shirt stretching along the floor to accommodate the movement. The echo of my belt being undone boomed in the too emptyspace of my bedroom. The sharp hiss of my zipper was brief as I was scrambling for some sort of relief.
The feeling of my hand wrapped around my cock wasn’t the sensation I was craving. My hands were too big, calloused, and crude to pretend it was her. I knew it because her hands were on me, wrapped around my neck as I carried her mere hours ago.
I was desperate after having her so close, and my fantasies of her were all I could afford.
In my mind, she was standing in front of me as I kneeled, holding my chin delicately in her palm—a complete contrast to her nails digging into my throat. I imagined her wearing those damn boots of hers, making her tower over me so she had to look down her nose to meet my gaze.
She was telling me I was a good boy and that I’d earned this. She was telling me how fast or slow I could fuck my hand. She was telling me to say my please and thank yous.
Harsh breaths escaped from me as I quickened my pace, eyes shut in an effort to picture Vivian in all of her perfection.
Imagining her gracing me with those words from her deep-red-painted lips was what brought me my release, and I spilled my cum all over the bare floor, ensuring none of it would soil her shirt.
