Page 201 of Ruin Me Gently

My hand moved slow, dragging every slick stroke out just to hear the way his breath caught.

“You need to lock the door,” he said, voice like gravel.

Lock the door? Where was the fun in that?

I twisted my wrist, working him faster, harder.

“Please,” he gritted out. “My assistant is right outside. Anyone could walk in.”

I bit my lip, grinning as I stroked him mercilessly, dragging him to the edge.

Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I grazed my lips across his jaw before sinking my teeth into the sensitive skin at his neck, and his whole body shuddered beneath me, muscles rippling.

“Then you’d better come for me quickly, hadn’t you?” I tightened my strokes, dragging him closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers left my wrist, his hand slamming flat against the glass, his forehead pressing right beside it. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, the glass fogging beneath his mouth as his control fractured.

“Cazzo,” his voice broke. “I’m gonna—”

I pulled my hand away. Immediately. Completely.

“What the—?” His head snapped toward me.

I bit my lip gently, tilting my head as I looked up at him. “Do you want to come?”

His jaw ticked, his breath ragged, his hand curling into a fist against the glass. “Yes. Please.”

I wrapped my fingers around him again. The strokes started slow, teasing, making him feel every inch of it, before I picked up the pace to something rougher.

I bit back a grin, watching as his whole body fell apart in my hand.

“Lilith—fuck,” A deep moan ripped from his chest, echoing in the open space of his office. “Lock the door. Please. Lock the fucking door.”

His hips rocked into my fist and his fingers twitched against the glass, knuckles white. He was right there, right fucking there.

And I let go. Again.

A whimper left him as he bucked into nothing.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

He was shaking. Struggling. And it was beautiful.

Parting my lips, I let a stream of spit drip down onto his cock. I smoothed my palm over him, rubbing it in, watching the way his stomach flexed beneath his shirt, the way his breath stuttered out in a wrecked exhale. I gave a slow, twisting drag of my fist up his length, before my grip tightened at the base, squeezing, cutting off that last bit of relief before it could hit.

“Lilith—please—”

I dragged my thumb over the head, testing the sensitive ridge, pressing down. His legs spread slightly, like he was trying to brace himself. The moans that left him weren’t just loud now—they were broken and raw.

He couldn’t take much more.

He was right there. Again. Right on the brink. And I had him completely at my mercy, in the palm of my hand—literally.

When I released him, the sound that left his throat was utterly delicious.

I leaned in close, breath warm against his jaw, my voice nothing but slow, syrupy cruelty. “You sound a little desperate there.”

His head dropped further forward. “I’ll do anything. Please. Let me come. I need it.”

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