Page 13 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
Again in my bed, slow and thorough, until she'd begged me to stop teasing her.
Then once more around three in the morning when she'd woken me by trailing her fingers down my chest and gripping my dick to stroke me until I was hard enough for her to ride.
My body was already responding to the memory, hardening against her hip where she lay draped across my bed like she owned it.
She looked exhausted, though, dark smudges under her eyes and that boneless quality that came from being thoroughly satisfied. I wanted to roll her onto her back and start all over again, but she needed rest.
Carefully, I slipped out from under her, pausing when she mumbled something unintelligible and reached for where I'd been. When she settled back into sleep, I pulled on boxer briefs and grabbed my phone from the nightstand.
The penthouse was quiet except for the hum of the heating system.
Tessa's clothes were still scattered across the living room and kitchen—dress crumpled on the floor, shoes kicked under the coffee table, that scrap of black lace she'd called panties draped over my favorite armchair.
The sight stirred something feral in me, a satisfaction at marking my territory.
I started the coffee machine and checked my phone while it worked. Three missed calls from Daniel, two from my assistant at the London office, and a handful of emails markedUrgent.
The snow emergency alert showed Level 2 now—essential traffic could resume, trains would be running within a few hours.
Time to face reality.
What the hell had I been thinking? She was twenty-six years old.
My son Blake was nineteen, Elena twenty.
The math was uncomfortable no matter how I calculated it. Any rational person would look at us and see exactly what we were—a middle-aged man taking advantage of his young employee… Robbing the cradle.
Except it hadn't felt like taking advantage. She'd been every bit as eager as I was, matching my hunger with her own.
The way she'd responded to my touch, the sounds she'd made when I'd found that spot that drove her wild, the confidence with which she'd taken control when she'd climbed on top of me—none of that suggested a woman being coerced.
Still, the optics were terrible. If this got out, the board would crucify me. Sexual harassment lawsuits, workplace misconduct investigations, my reputation destroyed overnight.
Everything I'd spent decades building could collapse because I couldn't keep my hands off my assistant.
But God, she'd been incredible, responsive and passionate and so much more experienced than I'd expected. The memory of her mouth on me, the way she'd looked up at me with those hazel eyes while she'd taken me apart piece by piece, made my grip tighten on the coffee mug.
This was exactly the problem. I'd always been obsessive, single-minded in pursuing what I wanted.
It's what had made me successful in business and what had destroyed my marriage to Viktoria.
She'd accused me of being incapable of moderation, of consuming everything I touched until there was nothing left.
Maybe she'd been right. I'd certainly missed my relationship with my children, so consumed with focus on building the company that I'd missed soccer games and school plays and family dinners until they'd stopped inviting me.
Blake barely spoke to me now except when he needed money. Elena was slightly more forgiving but still kept me at arm's length, afraid I'd somehow manage to disappoint her again.
The coffee machine finished with a soft beep, and I poured two cups, adding cream to hers the way she took it at the office, straight black for myself.
It was a mundane domestic gesture that felt strangely intimate after the night we'd shared. None of which should ever have happened, and had we simply gotten the wine and goneback to the office, we'd have been snowed in with a dozen other employees and no chance of this.
Strange the way fate worked that.
Soft footsteps announced Tessa's approach. I turned to find her hovering in the kitchen doorway, wearing my old Harvard T-shirt and nothing else.
It hung just below her hips, covering the most intimate parts but leaving a shadow that made my cock twitch. Her hair was a mess, there were pillow creases on one cheek, and she looked thoroughly debauched. It was the most beautiful sight I'd seen in years.
"Morning," I said, offering her the mug.
