Page 10 of Meow

I still for a beat, tickling her entrance with my ring finger, basking in the knowledge that nothing this tight could have been breached before. Christ, she feels like heaven and vengeance all at once.

Our lips come together in a mutual fury. More. More.

The kiss is a storm. She smells like fire and rebellion, while the fire she’s lit inside me is turning dangerous.

She moans into my mouth as her body takes off, soaking my hand as tremors shake her and my own greedy lust starts to unravel the last remnants of my civility.

In one sweeping move, I break from our kiss, her half-lidded, blind eyes barely registering the movements as I pull her from the counter, bending her at the waist, my fingers snagging the hem of her skirt, yanking it up to bare her ass, making quick work of those Purrrfect Girl panties and stuffing them into my pocket.

My clothes stay,my brain screams.Not here. You’re not fucking her in a closet. Not the first time. Not like this.

But my cock doesn’t care, tenting my trousers as I pin her wrists above her head.

“Bend,” I growl into her ear, voice thick enough to choke on. She does—a lithe arch of defiance and want—and I fist myself through my expensive suit pants, positioning myself behind her. My cockhead is willing itself to tear through the five-thousand dollar barrier between us and feel that first brush of her tight little entrance, slick heat teasing me…

Down boy. Not happening.

I grab her hipbones like an anchor. “Look at you,” I rasp, the words raw. “Drenched. You want a good performance review don’t you?”

She whimpers as I grind my erection into the curve of her ass. The counter creaks under us. She’s trembling, nails clawing at its surface.

“More,” she pants, and I curse, slamming harder and harder against her bare ass.

Fabric friction rubs my flesh raw, the glorious pain searing up my spine. “Fuck, you like making Daddy lose his fucking mind, don’t you?”

I don’t last long after. My hips piston wildly against her, my pants straining as I come hard in a flood of super-heated release, groaning her name like it’s a prayer. I will her to another orgasm with filthy words and a pinch on her swollen nub.

My hand finds her throat as she comes undone, fingers digging into her windpipe, holding her very life in my hands while pleasure rips through us both.

We slump there, heaving—the air thick with sweat and unfinished business—and when she turns to grin at me over her shoulder, I drop my head to the crook of her neck.

“We have a strict no sexual harassment policy.”

Her soft giggle makes my heart sing. “So I hear. But, time will tell. I might have to make an appointment with Margaret to lodge a complaint.”

“Oh, something is getting lodged very soon. This was just a prologue, kitten. Daddy’s got a whole story to tell you later. It’s long, thick and has a happily ever after.”

“I want the first chapter now—”

Fuck, my dick is ready to blow again, I consider how wet she is, maybe, just maybe I’ll fit, just the tip and then--

The door rattles, and we freeze.

"What’s taking so long, Tabby?" a male voice destroys the moment from the hallway. "This door shouldn’t be locked…are you in there? Someone said you went to the supply closet. It’s your first day, Tabby, did you lock the door by mistake?”

I withdraw my hand, my heart pounding for entirely different reasons now. Tabby's eyes are wide, a mixture of disappointment and amusement dancing in them.

"Who the fuck is that?" I growl quietly.

"Some guy who was treating me like some intern earlier. Asked me to freshen his coffee," she whispers back. "Jake or Jason or something. From IT."

The door handle turns, but I locked it the moment we entered—a habit from years of paranoia that's finally paying off.

"Definitely locked," the voice says. “I need red toner, like, right fucking now.”

"Let me try," a second voice offers. "Sometimes these doors stick."

The handle rattles again, more forcefully this time. Tabby presses her lips together to stifle a giggle, and despite my frustration, I find myself smiling too.

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