Page 14 of The Vow Thief
I lifted a hand to silence her.“Not now, Ms. Thompson. We have time scheduled later in the day.”
Her mouth tightened, a flash of irritation breaking through the mask.
She turned, spine stiff, and walked away without another word.
It was only a few hours into the workday when curiosity, or maybe it was her strange obsession, got the best of her.
She must have walked to Matt’s office five, maybe six times.
Her out-of-character, pitiful knock on my door raked across my nerves like a screaming baby.
“Mr. Holloway, is Mr. Taylor out today? He hasn’t shown up yet.”
I took my time and typed out the rest of my email before I acknowledged her. When I finally looked up, the frustration on her face almost pulled a laugh out of me. How I contained myself was beyond me.
“Mr. Taylor’s whereabouts are none of your concern, Ms. Thompson. Besides, get used to him no longer being in the office.”
I could hear the change in her breathing. She stepped further into my office, a dumbfounded look spreading across her face.
“What?”
I stood.“Close the door, Ms. Thompson.”
She obeyed. I moved around the desk, slow and deliberate, my fingers curling into her hair. I pulled her head back, making her look up at me, her eyes locked to mine, filled with heat and submission.
“What, Ms. Thompson?” I asked, my voice low as it brushed against her ear.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn’t give her the chance. I guided her forward, bending her over the desk without hesitation. Her hands flattened against the polished surface, her breath catching as I stepped in behind her.
I took my time. One hand stayed on her while the other moved to my belt, unfastening it with a sharp pull. The zipper followed. The soft sound of fabric shifting filled the space between us.
I freed myself, already hard, already aching for her. Her skirt slid up easily beneath my fingers. She didn’t resist. She never did. We’ve always had an understanding. "No" is not a rejection; it’s a rescheduling.
“You’re always so ready for me. Are you still wondering where Matt is?” I asked, one hand firm on her hip while two fingers from the other glided easily inside her dripping core. God, she loved to be dominated.
She gave a small sound, but I didn’t care what she was trying to say. I pressed into her slowly, letting her feel every bit of my control. Her frustration faded with each movement. I could feel it unraveling in her. Her breathing shifted. I loved how her fingers clenched around the edge of the desk. Her pride dissolved into the rhythm I set, and she began to push back into me.
“Maybe next time we will do this on his desk,” I said.
Her only answer was a quiet gasp as I made one last thrust and held it there, releasing inside of her.
By the time I pulled away, she was silent, her hair a mess, her skirt still riding high on her thighs. As I tucked my shirt in and fastened my pants, I moved away.
“That will be all, Ms. Thompson.”
She smoothed her skirt back into place, slow and deliberate, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. She knew I was watching her. That was the point. She thrived on the spectacle of control.
I adjusted my cuffs, saying nothing. She turned at the door, eyes meeting mine for a second, still smiling, the kind of smile that promised she would be right back here next Tuesday, bent over my desk.
Then she walked out, the tap of her heels sharp and satisfied. Exactly the way I wanted.
For the first time, I wondered if I had underestimated her. Power attracted chaos, and Lily Thompson was beautiful chaos that took down every man foolish enough to get entangled with her.
Chapter 7 - Lily the Destroyer
Lily’s POV
Why can’t every man completely dominate and barely care like Jim Holloway? Honestly. That’s the kind of clarity I can respect.
