Page 21 of High-Rise Heat

“Four questions?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Was there something you wanted to ask?”

Dom nods curtly, grabbing the hem of his untucked shirt and pulling it down with a raw awkwardness. His shoulders hunch as he tries to find the words and I see the quiet Irish boy I fell for. Not the man in the board room, but the one who’d sit on the floor and laugh over noodles and let his guard down, the vulnerable man under all that polish.

“Yes, right.” Dom nods again, but when he looks up his eyes are harder, less sweet and more determined. A fist in my belly twists and I’m scared of what he’s going to ask.“I want to get my facts straight,” he says and my skin breaks into a sweat, my back still exposed from the cut of this dress. His jaw sets and he looks right at me, his expression a mix of determination and wounded pride. I lift my chin, telling myself I have nothing to hide. I have feelings and desires, and I won’t be ashamed of them.

“Go ahead,” I say softly, stepping closer to the doorframe, which causes the strap of my dress to slip down my shoulder. Dom’s eyes flick to my skin and I’ve half a mind to right the strap, but I don’t. I’ve spent months being polite and prim. Every night I’ve closed my eyes and imagined what would happen in a moment just like this one. Will he tell me the strap has fallen like a gentleman? Or will he use it as an excuse to touch me?

Dom’s jaw twitches. “If I’m not mistaken…” he says, his eyes flicking over the column of my throat before licking his lips as if the words need lubrication. “You made it clear that you like me.”

He looks up. It’s such a simple thing to say. Such a tiny inconsequential thing, like the strap on my shoulder, yet it holds everything.

I lean against the door frame and let the strap inch lower. My head tilts against the door and the hair falls off my neck, my mess of hair that’s already been gripped by the wind. And here Dom is—at my door —asking me to admit how I feel—again.

“Yes,” I say softly, not denying him, but I’m not rewarded with a smile. In fact, he doesn’t even nod to acknowledge what I’ve said. Instead, he’s still standing there calculating.

“Two,” Dom continues. “You were only interested in Isaac because I made you think I wasn’t interested? Isaac was on the table because you thought I was off it … yes?”

His clipped tone ties a knot in my stomach, only I’ve heard this tone before, and suddenly I realize what he’s doing. He’s laying down the terms and clarifying the agreement. He’s making sure he has all the information before negotiating a counter offer.

Thisis how Dom takes what he wants.

I tip my head up and lock in his stare, tilting my body forward slowly, and daring him to look down the front of my dress. “Yes,” I agree again, catching the crisp scent of soap that he washes with. It’s a fresh, bright smell that makes me ache. How many more questions are there to this negotiation? Four, did he say?

“Good,” he gruffs out, and my lips part at the thickness in his tone. Dom’s eyes sparkle as he gears up to ask the next question and my skin tightens. He’s beautiful. His disheveled look makes him more gorgeous to me somehow, like we’ve broken through all of our pretenses and are finally seeing each other. “Have you really fantasized about fucking me?”

His words are so direct my mouth falls open. The question feels like he’s reached inside my dress and pulled my tits out. In fact, I’m so caught off guard I wish that’s exactly what he was doing.

“Yes,” I say hoarsely, in answer to his question. After all, fantasizing is exactly what I’m doing at this moment, imagining the erotic tickle of my long hair brushing against my back as my head rolls back and his hands thrum my nipples. “Yes,” I repeat, the word a breathy moan that makes Dom’s eyes dilate. I never imagined Dom would ask me anything so directly. I never knew that one word—yes—could make me so hot.

“One more question,” Dom asks thickly and I lift my head. He’s no more than two inches from me. He could take me with a kiss if he wanted to, and I lock my gaze on him to egg him on, giving him permission. Kiss me, Dom. Taste me. Fuck me. Ask the damn question!

“Yes?” I encourage, knowing there’s a pivot that happens in all negotiations, a point where the power turns and you realize you will bend to all of your opponent’s demands. And right now, Dom could ask me anything.

“Howdo you fantasize fucking me?”

I bite my lip to hide my whimper. Dom didn’t just ask that, did he? And yet, I’m so turned on that he did. My panties are so wet that my mind clouds with every dirty fantasy.

I step forward and we both hiss as my tits brush across his chest. I tilt my head up and my lips graze his chin. It’s barely a touch, but the whisper of my mouth on his skin has my pussy aching.

“Sometimes it’s sweet, Dom,” I admit, dragging my lips up and across his jaw and braving the consequences of letting him into this private place in my mind. “And sometimes itrough.” When I reach his ear I suck his lobe into my mouth. His hands grab the sides of the door jamb as I bite him softly. “I’ve imagined your mouth on every inch of my skin, Dom. I’ve imagined your hands digging into my hips and the weight of your body on top of me.” His throat lets out a needy growl and I can’t stop myself, drunk on how this is affecting him. “And sometimes …” I hum softly, pressing my face into his neck to muffle my voice, not sure if I should say it out loud. But then I taste the salt on his neck and realize I’m already all in. My mouth is already on him. “Not sometimes, Dom.” I pull back to look him in the eye. “All the time.Allthe time—I go home at night and fuck myself with my fingers, imagining it’s your cock.” He hisses, his gaze turning to pure lust, with every part of him animal and shocked. “It’s dirty sometimes, and it’s hot. You flip me over onto my stomach, wrap your hands in my hair, and fuck me from behind. And other times it’s sweet, Dom. It’s so freaking beautiful and tender, that there’s no man on earth who could ever touch me the way thatyoutouch me.” I lean forward and brush the barest of kisses over his lips and feel him tremble beneath me. His hands are still on the doorframe, probably wondering who am I to talk like this, and where this uninhibited and dirty woman has come from. But he asked, and I’m tired of pretending. “Two years, Dom. Two years of naughty fantasies and romantic fantasies, and working by your side, and being polite and quiet as my body ached. The two of us always avoiding this conversation, because I know you love your job, and you respect me too much. But believe me Dominick Pierce, the one thing I want right now is for you to tear off my panties and—”

Dominick grabs my hips and crushes me against him. He does it so fast that I’m moaning as his mouth closes over mine. His tongue slides inside before I can stumble back and register that he’s pushing us into the bedroom. The door slams and I’m lifted, my spine slapping against the wall as Dom slides his hands under the folds of my dress to palm my ass, making me whimper with how close his fingers are to my wetness.

His mouth is fire, teasing and demanding, and my fingers dive into his red hair to deepen the kiss. I want all of him—this demanding, taking, perfect man. I lift my knee to hook it over his hip, when Dom moves suddenly, lifting me up and moving me over so I’m sitting on the desk next to the door. His lips never leave mine as he pushes my skirt up over my hips in a hot frenzy that has me aching. Whoisthis? This isnotthe refined and controlled man who’s always so polite and calculated. It’s not the man I imagined seducing me with a hundred innocent kisses. No, this Dom grabs my knees and spreads my thighs wide, opening me with a forcefulness that makes me wild. Then, he yanks my ass forward to the edge of the desk, where he positions his hips and—I dig my nails into his neck—his erection presses between my legs, his thick, hard cock aroused and bulging beneath his pants and making me aware of the fact that he’s wearing far too much tuxedo.

“Oh God, Dom, you feel—” I bite my lip, not wanting to say something so crass. Only, I’ve already said so many dirty things that I don’t know why I’m shy now. Perhaps it’s the fact that this is real and I’m not imagining it. Dom’s cock is rubbing against the thin fabric of my panties, shooting electricity straight through my core. “You feel … huge,” I whisper, trying out the word, and he smiles against my mouth. I’ve imagined Dom being rough and aggressive like this, but the act of him actually doing it is so much hotter. I put one hand on the desk for leverage and lift my hips, dragging my throbbing center against the thickness in his pants. He growls and clutches my thighs at how completely indecent and primal it is. But I’m past the point of caring if it’s appropriate to dry hump his leg. “You’re wearing too much clothing,” I complain, reaching for his collar with my free hand, and moving my hands frantically against the buttons—when Dom pulls his hips back and looks straight at me.

“Too bad,” he says roughly, his tone hot and commanding. Then suddenly he yanks my panties to the side and thrusts two of his fingers inside me.

“Oh, God!” I cry out as my pussy clenches wickedly over his fingers, delirious with his entry. This isnothow Dom was supposed to first touch me. It was supposed to be sweet, with us making love first,thensomething rougher and more—Dom’s fingers pull out and slide back in—and oh fuck me, yes! My head rolls back as he increases his rhythm.

“You like that?” he growls, rubbing his thumb over my clit and making my mouth fall open. He thrusts a third finger inside me and my hips lift off the desk to meet his entry. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says into my neck, and all I can do is nod because it’s so fucking amazing. “Damn, you’re wet,” he curses, and I almost laugh through the gasps.

“Weren’t you listening,” I manage. “I’m always wet around you. My brain is constant porno when you’re in the room.” He rings my clit and I dig my nails into his back. “Jesus!”

“Is this how you imagined it?” he asks, his voice husky. My head falls back as my cunt clenches over his pumping fingers.

“Better, Dom. Definitely better!”

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