Page 254 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
His eyes sharpened instantly.
“Is that fucking right?” he hissed.
“Hm,” I hummed, pretending to consider it as his eyes roved over me—hungry, narrowed, already imagining ways to punish me.
“It took the edge off,” I murmured, slowly stretching my arms overhead, teasing him with the rise of my sweater, “but…”
I trailed off deliberately.
He waited.
“But what?” he bit out, voice sharp with demand.
“It wasn’t you, Silas. It wasn’t your big dick inside me, hitting all those places my fingers and toy couldn’t reach,” I said,watching the flicker in his expression—irritation giving way to something far darker.
That did it.
The air shifted, turning thick and electric.
He moved without a word, yanking his tie loose with one hand, the other already undoing the top button of his shirt. Controlled fury rolled off him in waves.
“I see,” he muttered, voice low and dangerous. “So you were unsatisfied.”
“No,” I said, slow and deliberate. “I was waiting.”
His jaw flexed, and he started towards me.
Each time he lost control was one more fuck you to my mother.
He pulled me to my feet, his hands cradling my face like I was something precious—something breakable—before he kissed me. Hard. Purposeful. He twisted his head, sealing our mouths together, deepening the kiss until I melted into him.
His warmth wrapped around me like possession. My fingers slid beneath the sharp line of his suit jacket, clutching at his waist as I ground my mound against the hard ridge of his cock.
He growled against my lips.
Then he pulled back—just enough to glare down at me, one hand gripping my ass like a warning. His eyes flicked to my wet, parted lips… then he was on me again. Mouth over mine, devouring me.
“Such a filthy little fucktoy,” he breathed, voice rough with heat as soon as he released me.
He grabbed the hem of my sweater and dragged it over my head, tossing it behind him without looking—his focus entirelyon me. Then he shrugged out of his jacket, letting the grey fabric fall to the floor like it meant nothing.
“Clothes off,” he snapped, clearing the desk with a sweep of his hand, moving my book and laptop aside. “And bend over.”
I didn’t hesitate.
Not for a second.
With my clothes off, chair pushed back, I spread my legs and bent over the desk. Silas has left his trousers on. I swear the man loved having me smeared all over his clothes.
“So you think it’s acceptable to play with my cunt without me being here?” he asked, voice too calm to be safe.
I heard the faint click of his belt.
“I did think of you when I came, if that helps,” I said, flashing a grin he couldn’t see.
The metal buckle jingled before the leather slid free. I glanced over my shoulder—just in time to see him fold the belt in half, slow and deliberate.
He smiled.
