Page 35 of Coldhearted King

Her breath hitches, and I turn so my lips brush against the soft skin of her cheek. “Just think. By now, Paul will be up here, right outside this door. He’ll be sitting out there waiting patiently for me while I’m making you come. If that isn’t revenge, I don’t know what is.”

“I’m not having sex with you in your office.” There’s far less conviction in that statement than she probably thinks.

My lips travel down until they’re hovering just over hers. “I’m not offering to have sex with you in my office.”

“Then what—”

“I’m not going to fuck you, but I am going to make you feel good. You only have to trust me and keep quiet like the good girl you showed me you are the night we met. Can you do that?”

I’m almost sure she’ll turn me down, but I hold my breath as I wait.

A few seconds pass before she says, “I can do that.”

Fuck yes.

I’m being reckless. I know that. But I don’t care. Right now, I’m not thinking about anything but Delilah and making her come. I’m not thinking about my father and what he did. I’m not thinking about the investors doubting what my brothers and I can achieve.

She’s the only thing on my mind.

I reach down with one hand and run it up her thigh, snagging the hem of her skirt and dragging it up to her ass. Pulling back, I watch her face as I brush my fingers over her panties. Her lips part and her eyes go glassy. My thumb finds a damp spot and when I press against it, her hips twitch and a whispered moan drops from her lips. Triumph rockets through me. She’s wet. She’s standing in my office with wet panties.

The need to pull out my cock and sink into her is so strong my pulse pounds with it. But that can’t happen. This is all I’ll allow myself. One more momentary taste of her.

I ease my hand underneath the silky material, my knuckles brushing over the smooth, soft skin of her pussy.

“Cole,” she breathes, and I bare my teeth at her in a smile which probably looks more than a little feral.

Pressing deeper, I slide into her slick heat, and my mouth goes dry as I anticipate replacing my fingers with my mouth. The flutter at the base of Delilah’s neck steals my gaze. I want to press my lips against it, scrape my teeth along her throat, suck the delicate skin until it leaves a mark so that when I send her back out, Paul will know exactly what happened in here.

But I won’t because it makes no sense. I couldn’t give a fuck about Paul and his screw ups, except that it allows me to do this again. I don’t have a fucking clue where the desire to mark her comes from.

Shaking the thought away, I press my thumb against her clit, then slide my finger deeper before pulling it out and repeating the process.

She moans, and I nearly do too. I’d forgotten just how tight she is, her body wrapping snugly around my fingers thrusting inside her.

Delilah’s hips begin to move in rhythm with my hand. Her lids are half-closed, lips parted as she watches me watch her. “More, Cole. Please.”

If she thinks finger fucking her to orgasm is my end goal right now, she’s mistaken. She lets out a little cry when I pull my hand out of her panties, her wide eyes searching mine. A flash of doubt crosses her face, as if she thinks I’m done with her. As if she thinks I’d make promises about making her feel good and then leave her hanging.

She has a lot to learn about me.

I drop to my knees, my fingers hooking in her underwear and pulling them down her thighs as I go.

Her gasp lets me know she isn’t expecting it.

“Off,” I say, tapping her ankle, and she lifts each foot in turn, stepping out of her panties. I stuff them into my pocket. “Hold your skirt up for me.”

Her eyes are dilated, her cheeks flushed. But she does as she’s told, gathering her skirt, shimmying her hips to get the tight material over her ass, and then clutching it at her waist.

She’s already glistening with desire, and lust pounds a heavy beat in my blood. My hard dick strains against my fly.

But it will have to wait.

I use my thumbs to part her, my mouth watering as I see how wet she is. Then I lean forward and run my tongue from her entrance to her clit in one long swipe. Her taste almost has my eyes rolling back in my head. She’s fucking delicious—like the finest wine. How have I had her in this building for the last month and not done this before?

Then I remember.

Paul.

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