Page 2 of Claimed By Him
“Did you burn that on purpose,” she accused sharply, her chin lifting in defiance. Her flush deepened, and I couldn’t help but smirk.
“It was an accident,” I murmured lazily. Her pointed stare called me out the way I knew she wouldn’t. Tipping my head toward the coffee, I raised my eyebrow, reminding her why she’d been called.
Then I watched her swallow as she kneeled in front of me, avoiding the glass. Her breath hitched, and I had to hide how mine did the same. She looked fucking amazing on her knees. I gripped the desk behind me, white-knuckling it. Control. I needed some fucking control.
“You know, I make a point to get to know my staff, Miss Calloway, but you’re awfully hard to get a good read on,” I murmured, lowering my voice, watching the tremor in her hands as she worked to mop up the spill first.
Her breath hitched, and her gaze flickered to mine. “I’m nothing special, sir.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” I said, speaking lazily. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” I gestured vaguely, watchingher carefully. “You’re meticulous, I’ll give you that. But what else are you good at, Ms. Calloway?”Spying? Seducing me?“Your resume wasn’t very detailed. Have you been in New York long?”
“I’m just here to do my job, sir. I don’t think the rest matters.” She rose from the floor, her movements stiff, her eyes sharp and cautious. “I’ll bring the vacuum to get the glass. Do you need anything else?”
No, but I wanted her back on her knees as much as I wanted answers.
My body was fucking humming as I closed the distance between us, toying with a strand of her curly brown hair. “Do you?” I purred, meeting her heated gaze.
God, the way she looked at me. Was I really such a clueless bastard that I couldn’t see it? She’d probably been hired to fuck with me.To fuck me. Anger simmered, warring with my control. This wasn’t the first time I felt this heat between us, but I’d always ignored it—not this time. No, now I wanted to use it. To useher.Make up for the fucking betrayal stabbing me in the chest.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she murmured breathlessly.
“No?” I asked, tilting her chin up gently. “Tell me, Ms. Calloway, why are you really here?”
“I told you,” she said, her voice wavering. “I’m just here to work.”
I leaned in and bit her lip and she inhaled sharply, her stare hot enough to melt. Sucking it into my mouth, I soothed my tongue over the sting and then pulled away, drawing her closer as I did.
“Liar,” I whispered when her hands settled on my chest.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. That silence—the flash of vulnerability in her honey-brown eyes—only made my need burn hotter. Before she could react, I kissed her properly. Her lips parted with a gasp, and I sank my fingers into her hairas I slid my tongue against hers. The feeling left me with fucking chills, and I couldn’t stop the groan that rumbled out of me.
Soft whimpers spilled into my mouth, and for a moment, she gave in, letting me taste the warmth between her lips. The wetness. I couldn’t resist pressing harder against her, and fuck me, I probably would’ve done a whole hell of lot more if she didn’t pull away.
“This is unprofessional,” she whispered, breathless.
“Are you stopping me, Jade?” I chided, brushing a thumb over her swollen lips. “I want these around my cock.”
She gaped, dropping the rag. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and her gaze avoided mine. The way her hands trembled told me everything I needed to know—this wasn’t just about shame. There was more beneath the surface, something deeper. Fucking hell, I was right. She was hiding something.
“I-I should go,” she stammered, backing away. I followed her step-by-fucking-step, smirking as she shook her head. “W-we shouldn’t do this.”
“Come here,” I commanded softly, but with a firmness that left no room for refusal.
Her eyes flicked to mine, her breaths uneven. “I really should—”
“Now, Jade,” I said more forcefully this time, and I stopped to watch her with narrowed eyes. “Walk, or I’ll make you crawl for me.”
A laugh sputtered from her lips, fueling the need in my veins as she stepped toward me, her movements tentative, unsure.
Impatient, I grabbed her wrist and spun her around, leaving her hanging over the back of the couch.
“Mr. Blackwood!” she gasped, lifting onto the tips of her toes as I ran my fingers under her black skirt, sliding my palms up her thighs. “This isn’t professional,” she repeated weakly.
“We’ve already covered that, sweetheart,” I murmured, fingers reaching up to remove her panties. My finger scraped her pussy, coming back wet and my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head. “Why don’t we change the topic?”
Her breath hitched as I pressed her against the back of the couch, my hands gripping her inner thighs possessively, spreading them. The tension between us was electric, and I could feel her hesitation, her desire battling with her stubborn will.
“Mr. Blackwood, ” she murmured weakly, her voice trembling with defiance. “We shouldn’t.”
