Page 151 of Her Soul to Own

She swings one long leg over me, straddling my lap, her heat instantly radiating through both our clothes. My breathing hitches sharply as her weight settles against me, pressing down directly over the rigid length beneath my slacks. My pulse pounds like a war drum.

Her hands slide up my chest and curl into my suit lapels, her touch hot and electric. “You want to touch me so bad that it hurts, don’t you?”

“You have no idea,” I rasp, my voice breaking around the edges.

She leans in, her lips brushing my ear, her breath hot. “Good.”

Her hips start to move in a slow, hypnotic grind, and the friction is maddening and perfectly torturous. I can feel her heat through the thin barrier of silk and wool, her soaked panties clinging to her as she moves. My cock pulses hard against her, straining and desperate for release, but I grit my teeth, forcing myself to endure the exquisite torment.

“Fuck, Lyra,” I groan, tipping my head back as my eyes flutter shut. “You keep doing that and I’m going to snap.”

“That’s the point,” she whispers slyly, her teeth grazing my jawline.

I open my eyes and meet hers, dark, wild, and ravenous. The sight of her with her cheeks flushed, breath quickened, and pupils blown wide, sends another surge of desire flooding through me.

“Take it off,” I rasp, my voice wrecked.

She smiles wickedly. “No.”

My fingers twitch against the chair, every muscle straining under the surface. The veins in my arms bulge as my control frays. “Lyra…”

“Not yet,” she whispers again, dragging her nails lightly down my chest and leaving tingling trails of heat. “You don’t get to command me today.”

She arches her back, pushing her breasts toward me, her nipples visibly hard beneath the sheer fabric. The cool air in the room teases her exposed skin, making them peak even harder. My mouth waters as I devour her with my eyes, the ache to taste her almost unbearable.

She grinds into me harder now, her pace increasing, the friction hotter, wetter, and more desperate. My entire body vibrates on the edge, my every nerve ending raw and begging.

The polished glass walls reflect us from every angle, showing her riding me like royalty and me barely containing the storm within. My jaw flexes again as I fight the need to pin her down and lose myself entirely.

“You’re playing with fire, baby,” I warn through gritted teeth.

“Then burn,” she growls, her hips slamming down harder.

The chair creaks beneath us, the sound mixing with our ragged breathing and the soft, wet friction of her grinding against my cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Silas?” she whispers breathlessly, her voice thick with amusement and lust. “Right here?”

“Yes,” I groan weakly, the word ripped from my chest.

She shifts slightly, her fingers drifting to the buttons of her blouse. My eyes follow every flick of her fingers like a man hypnotized. Each button pops open with agonizing slowness, revealing more of her smooth, perfect skin. Her breasts spill free as the blouse slips from her shoulders and pools behind her. She sits fully bare before me, her nipples peaked, flushed, and begging for my mouth.

Lyra hovers above me, fully exposed, her skin glowing under the boardroom lights. My chest tightens as I drink in every inch of her—her flushed cheeks, the heavy rise of her bare breasts, and her nipples hard and begging for my mouth. My cock throbs painfully beneath her, leaking and desperate.

She shifts, rising slightly off my lap as her hands move to my belt. The soft metallic clink of the buckle echoes between us, sounding louder in the anticipatory silence of the room. My breathing grows heavier with each second, my heart hammering as she undoes my slacks and frees me from the tight fabric.

My cock springs forward, thick, hard, and already glistening with need. The cool air licks over my length, but it’s her eyes that set me on fire, full of power, lust, and wicked satisfaction.

She stands for a moment, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of her panties. My breath catches as she slowly slides them down her thighs, letting them pool at her feet. Her nakedness strikes me like a punch to the gut, a vision so perfect that it nearly breaks me.

My hands grip the armrests again, my knuckles turning white as I fight the urge to grab her, take her, and lose every ounce of control. Because tonight, this is her game.

Lyra backs up a little from me before straddling my lap once more and hovering just above my cock. The heat of her bare core teases my sensitive tip, the wetness of her arousal slick against me.

My muscles quake, and my jaw clenches. I can feel every pulse of blood coursing through me.

“Now,” she whispers, her voice thick and husky, “I’m going to take what’s mine.”

And then she sinks down.

---