Page 66 of Damaged Mogul
“I’m not done with you yet, angel.”
A rush of heat blooms between my legs, causing my clit to tingle with anticipation.
“As much as I’d love to push you onto your back, splay you on that desk”—he points to the corner of the room—“tear off your shorts and scrap of lacy panties you’re wearing so I can get my mouth on your sweet pussy, I won’t.”
Holy. Hell.
I’m positively dripping.
“It’s best if we keep that for a more private setting. Because I intend on eating you out like a glutton until you come writhing all over my fucking face, screaming so loud they hear you all the way in your Swiss boarding school.”
I blink.
I’m a deer caught in headlights.
“You’re okay with that?”
More than okay. I want it all, and more.
I nod.
“Words. I want words.”
I suck in a breath. “Yes.”
He regards me for a beat. “You’re sure about that?”
I nod again.
He arches a brow.
“Yes.”
“Good. We’re on the same wavelength.”
Gage zips up my shorts before fastening the button. And then, he plays around with my top, readjusting it.
“There.”
The hunger in his eyes is unsettling.
It shouldn’t stir my insides like this.
I brush a hand over my hair.
This will have to do.
“Let’s get out of here.” He pulls me towards the door.
“Wait!”
He turns around and gives my body a quick inspection. “What?”
“I left my handbag behind.” My teeth snag my bottom lip, and I eye him with hesitation. “I’m not courageous enough to face your friends. I’m sure it’s written all over my face we’ve been…”
“Misbehaving?”
My cheeks burst into flames. “Yes.” I lower my gaze.
