We take our time undressing each other, both of us seemingly of one mind without having to talk about anything. Maybe it comes from all the years we've been working together. Maybe it's something else.
But honestly?
I don't care to know why right now.
Because I'm too busy staring and gulping.
I've only managed to take his shirt off, and he already has me feeling so ridiculously hot and bothered.
How is he,like,so smooth and hard all over?
And when my gown falls into a pool around my feet, leaving my heaving flesh exposed to his gaze?
I thought I was already burning up.
But the moment I see how he's staring at my breasts?
Well, now I know better.
Now I know what it means for someone's stare to set me on fire.
His hands clasp my waist, and I start feeling delirious as soon as he has me seated on the edge of the desk. I thought I'd have time to gather my thoughts, even just for a few seconds, butno.
He cups one breast in his hand, his mouth closing over a sensitive tip, and all I can do is clutch his head and whimper. It's the sweetest agony, for him to taste me like this, one breast at a time. But just when I feel I'm about to shatter at any moment—
Adriano pulls away, and I barely manage to bite back a cry of protest.
"You're driving me crazy, Shayla. I want you. More than I've ever wanted anyone."
So apparently, there's asecondreason for my boss to speak with a strong accent.
Because right now, Adriano's Greek accent is thicker than ever.
And it makes me want him.
So, so much.
But when I think about completely surrendering to him—
Not yet.
There's still a part of me that's holding back.
And so I hear myself whisper, "Not just yet."
His jaw clenches.
"But instead..."
His entire body jerks when I reach for the hem of his pants.
And he ends up sharply sucking his breath when my hand disappears inside of it.
I try wrapping my fingers around him, but I realize to my shock that I can't.
I really can't.
He's just too...