After I left Weston’s office, I was halfway down the hall toward my own when it hit me—if Weston was involved in more than just a fling, then that meant he would no longer be available to be my fallback guy. No longer my safety net.
I didn’t want Weston. I’d never wanted Weston. The most attractive thing about Weston was that I’d believed he could keep me from Donovan. That he could keep me a “good girl”, safe and content without the urge for dirty, kinky filth.
It hadn’t been a very good plan anyway because somehow I’d still ended up naked with the wrong guy.
Well, lesson learned.
I couldn’t depend on Weston to protect me. I could decide what I wanted for myself without hiding behind someone else. I could stand up for myself and, at the same time, teach Donovan a thing or two about how to treat women in case he ever did decide to have a romantic relationship again.
Feeling buoyed, I changed direction and headed toward the opposite side of the building right away before I had time to have second thoughts.
Chapter 21
Donovan was standing by his secretary’s desk when I got there, discussing his day’s schedule with Simone. Despite the way my stomach flip-flopped when I saw him in his fitted black Armani, I kept my shoulders back and my head high.
“We need to talk,” I said, stealing Weston’s opening line. Then, without waiting for him to respond, I marched past him into his office.
I didn’t look back, but after a beat, I heard him say, “Simone, hold my calls.”
It took thirty painfully long seconds for Donovan to follow me in, hit the buttons to shut the door and darken the windows, and get situated at his desk.
Meanwhile, I paced, pulling my hair over one shoulder with both hands.
“Go ahead, Sabrina,” Donovan said, making himself comfortable in his high-back leather swivel chair. “Tell me what’s on your pretty little mind.” He said mind but his eyes drifted down my legs, and he made no effort to hide it.
I scowled, but truthfully, it made me a little giddy. Especially when I’d never seen him look at the other women in the office like that, but thinking about that would get me off track so I shelved the giddiness for later.
“Look,” I said as forcefully as I could while continuing to pace the length of his desk. “I can accept that Friday night was a one-time thing, but you—”
He cut in before I could finish. “Do you want it to be a one-time thing?”
I stopped mid-step, my pulse quickening. “That’s not what I said.” My cheeks suddenly felt warm.
“It’s not what you said, but it’s what I’m asking.”
“I don’t. I hadn’t thought.” I was flustered. This wasn’t fair. Another round hadn’t even been on the menu when he’d left the way he did.
And that’s what I was here to discuss—how he’d left, not if I wanted to do more naughty, naked things with the man who’d given me the best orgasms I’d ever had in my life.
I shook my head to clear it of the filthy images that had begun to flood my imagination. “I’m not talking about that right now. Can I just finish what I was saying?”
“Yes, of course. Go on.” He gave me that devilish smile of his. The one that made my panties wet every goddamned time.
Devilish smile or not—wet panties or not—I had a message to deliver, and I was going to get it out if it killed me. Aiming a finger directly at him for emphasis, I said sternly, “You don’t get to leave like an asshole again.”
Phew. I’d said it. And I felt pretty proud about my delivery as well.
Donovan rubbed his chin, considering. “Sex with me isn’t always as easy as the other night, you realize.”
Perhaps my delivery hadn’t gone quite as spectacularly as I’d believed.
More likely, the fault was with my audience. “Are you listening to me?”
I tried to pretend that I hadn’t been listening to him, but part of me definitely had. The part of me that was less concerned with respect and woman’s pride and more concerned with primal needs and wants. There was a lot to question after a statement like that. Sex with him wasn’t always that easy? My head wanted details. My body wanted demonstrations.
“Yes, I’m listening to you. In response, I’m explaining what a continuation of a sexual relationship with me could look like.”
My breasts felt heavy and my thighs felt weak. I threw my hands up in frustration. “But what does that have to do with what I was saying?”
His eyes glinted at me, more green today than brown. “You said ‘again’, Sabrina. Which insinuates you foresee a time in the future in which this would be an issue.”
Was that what I’d really said?
I replayed the words in my mind. “That wasn’t what I meant,” I said hurriedly.
“Wasn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure. Because maybe that was what I meant. What was the point in even correcting his behavior if I hadn’t, on some level, wanted there to be another time?
Still, none of that mattered if he didn’t hear me. “But did you get what I was saying?”
He sighed. “Yes, yes. Don’t be an asshole, Donovan. I heard you.” He swiveled his chair to the side. “Come here.” He used two fingers to summon me.
Didn’t sound like he took me very seriously though. And what he’d done had been a big deal.
Grudgingly, I trudged around his desk and stopped when I was a couple feet in front of him. “You heard me, but will you actually make an effort to change?”
He half-shrugged. “That sort of remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Get on your knees.”
“Remains to be seen? That doesn’t sound very committed.” Without thinking about it, I began to kneel down when my eyes hit the very large bulge in his crotch. “Wait.” I shot back up and stepped away. “Oh, no!”
“Come on.” He stroked his hand along his erection. “Door’s locked. Windows are dark.”
Goddammit. What was wrong with me? I was mad at this jerk, and he had the nerve to try to entice me to suck him off? In his office, no less? This was sexual harassment. This was inappropriate and indecent and such a fucking turn-on that I wouldn’t be surprised if Donovan could smell my arousal from a yard away.
But respect! Women’s lib!
“I’m not going to reward your bad behavior with a blowjob. That’s not why I came in here.” Though every second I stood before him it got harder and harder to remember why I existed if not for him.
“No, you came in here to tell me off. Which you did. More or less. Now we’re moving on. I’m helping you decide whether or not the other night was a one-time thing with another look at what it can be like to have sex with me.”
Donovan’s expression got serious—the kind of serious that said he was on the verge of losing patience, and I’d better listen if I knew what was good for me. “So, like I said before—get on your knees. I’m not going to tell you again.”
I was a girl who knew what was good for me.
Immediately, I fell to my knees.
The office floor was hard, even with the carpet Donovan had under his desk. It was dark brown with a tight pile that rubbed against my knees. It would leave marks if I spent much time there, even through my stockings.
But honestly, I didn’t give a fuck about my stockings. They could rip for all I cared. I was on my knees in front of Donovan Kincaid, and all I could think about, all I wanted was to get my mouth on him.
He was already undoing his pants. When he’d gotten both his belt and his zipper open, he dropped his hands to his sides. The crown of his cock peeked up at me above the band of his boxer briefs, much like it had the other night at my house. This time, however, I was eye level. This time, I was close enough to touch.
“Now this is where you make your choice,” Donovan said, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “If this is what you want—and by the way you’re biting your lip, I’d say this is exactly what you want—then you make the next move.”
Way to save himself when
it came to consent. It was probably a wise move on his part. Not that I was going to sue him for workplace harassment, no matter how many times I brought it up. I happened to like it too much. I probably even encouraged it at times.
But there was a bigger question here now—was this really what I wanted? Did I really want there to be an “again”? What did it mean about me if I did?
Maybe I really couldn’t take care of myself. Maybe I really did need Weston or a safe guy to hide behind, someone who wouldn’t be asking me to get on my knees in the middle of a workday. Someone who didn’t get off on the idea of holding me down while he fucked me. Someone who didn’t think it was necessary to warn me that sex with him wasn’t always “easy”.
Except this was what I wanted. All of it. The dubious consent, the dominant overtones. I wanted it with every fiber of my being, and if I was a big enough girl to know that about myself then maybe I could be a big enough girl to accept it too.
Hesitantly—only because I was nervous, not because I was reluctant—I wrapped my hands around the band of his briefs. Donovan raised his hips, and I pulled his briefs down until his cock sprung out thick and heavy.
Damn, was he always this big?
He was longer than I’d realized. Rounder too. And it only made me want him more.
I just wasn’t sure where to start.
A drop of pre-cum glistened on his head as if signaling me, and I leaned forward and licked it off, slowly. Deliberately.
His cock stirred, but that didn’t mean anything. It was too gentle of a movement for Donovan, too soft, and I knew without him telling me that I needed to progress my game.
I sucked his tip, then past that, drawing the top half of his cock into my mouth. When I started to wrap my fingers around his base, he stopped me. “No hands—just your mouth.”
Okay. I could do that.
I rested my hands on his thighs instead, loving the way his muscles felt under my palms, and resumed the action with my mouth, bobbing up and down his shaft, hollowing my cheeks to make the suction tight. He tasted good—like clean and musk and Donovan, and as big as he was, he felt good. It made me horny, made me super aroused. Like the way he stretched my lips reminded my pussy how it felt to be invaded in the same way.
“Very nice,” Donovan said after I’d spent a few minutes sucking him off. “Good girl. I like that.” He brought both his hands to my head and wrapped them in my hair. “But now I’m going to take over.”
That was all the warning I got.
After that, Donovan was the one in control. With my head held in his grip, he pushed me down over his cock, slowly at first, forcing more of his length in than I’d previously taken.
“That’s it, that’s it,” he coaxed as his tip hit the back of my mouth. And still he pushed in farther. “Relax your throat, Sabrina.”
My eyes went wide. I couldn’t take any more. I was going to gag. I started to panic. I couldn’t breathe.
Yes, I could. Through my nose.
I inhaled, and my throat relaxed, and he slid in farther, deeper than I’d ever taken anyone into my mouth before.
“Jesus.” He held me there, with his cock down my throat, not moving.
After a few seconds, he let go, but immediately he pushed in deep again. “All the way. Good girl, good girl.” This time he pumped my head over him, raising and lowering me only an inch or two above his balls. “God, it feels so fucking good. Fucking your mouth like this.”
I didn’t know how I felt. Aroused. Confused. Panicked. His thrusts brushed by my gag reflex, and I could only take it so long before I was sure I’d puke, but I couldn’t do anything to tell him but claw along his legs and look up at him with watering eyes.
He read my cues and understood. He let me up to relax. Let me catch my breath. But as soon as I did, he urged me back into position and pushed me farther the next round. And the next.
It was intense. It was brutal. But I could feel his cock get thicker in my throat. I saw how wild he got when he pumped my mouth over him, and it only made me love it more. Made me want to please him more.
When he was close, he held my head still and instead drove his cock into my mouth, fucking my face with as much frenzy as he’d fucked my cunt.
“I could have anyone’s mouth on me,” he said, his breaths short. “Any woman I want. Money can buy the prettiest lips, the most famous mouths, the deepest throats. And still, for ten years, all I can think about is your mouth. It’s only yours I want. Why can’t I get over your goddamn lips?”
I clawed into him, hard. So hard I thought I might tear his expensive suit. But not because I couldn’t take the pounding, but because I wasn’t sure I could take what he was saying.
He let up, reading the signal the same way as usual, but this time he barely let me have a break before saying, “I’m going to come. Swallow it all, Sabrina.”
He jerked twice, grunting as he shot into my mouth. Warm liquid coated my throat, as his thighs quivered beneath me. It was so hot. So fucking hot to see him so savage. Whatever I had to do to see it again, I’d do it. I’d have given my soul away.
I might have said something about it too, except the second after I swallowed, Donovan pulled me up and kissed me forcefully. Our tongues tangled, our tastes mixed until I could no longer distinguish the taste of his mouth from the taste of his cum in my mouth.
When he pulled away, our eyes locked.
“This doesn’t help me figure out where things are between us,” I whispered.
“It doesn’t help me either.” He sounded off-balance. Which threw me off-balance—more than I had been—because when had I ever seen Donovan unsteady before?
But no wonder he was bewildered. What had just happened? What he’d just said—I was pretty sure he hadn’t meant any of it. He couldn’t. It was impossible.
Wasn’t it?
As though we’d simultaneously woken from a weird trance, I fell back on my ass at the same time he fell back in his chair. There was distance between us now. Not much, but enough to feel like I could think my own thoughts for half a second.
And the look on his face said he was now thinking his own thoughts. I could actually see him shutting down. See his expression tighten and his eyes become guarded.
“Don’t,” I said, putting a hand up in warning. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. You can ask for space without saying something terrible.”
His brow furrowed. “Is ‘I have to get back to work now’ considered terrible?”
“When you say it directly after an intimate act, yes.” I stood up and did my best to straighten my hair without a mirror. “So how about I just go.”
Without any other movement, he nodded.
His gaze had a weight to it that I had memorized, and I could feel his eyes on me as I walked to the door.
Just as I was about to leave, he called after me, “Sabrina?”
I turned back to look at him, and the thing was, whatever he had to say, even if it was decent and not terrible, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to hear it.
I put my finger to my lips. “Shh.”
Then I pivoted and left, surprised I could walk as high as I was from the erotic scene.
But even dazed and confused, there was one thing I did know—the next move was on him.
Chapter 22
I quickly learned the downside of having the ball out of my hands—Donovan was patient. Me—not so much.
Every day Donovan left me wondering anxiously if he’d make contact. And each day that passed without seeing him, I felt on edge. More and more, I worried he’d decided he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further.
And then what the hell would I do?
I was into this now. He’d made me choose. I’d chosen to play. And then he’d made me wait.
And wait.
Goddamn motherfucker made me wait until Friday before he made his move.
I’d just returned from a working lunch with my team. I’d been distracted through the whole
thing because I’d caught a whiff of Donovan’s cologne in the hall beforehand, and all I wanted to think about after that was how good he smelled when he was hovering over me. Somehow I’d gotten my head together, but I still felt dizzy when it was over, so I’d rushed back to my office. I’d barely had time to stow my purse in my locked drawer when Ellen, my assistant, called from her desk.
“Is my one thirty here?” I asked in lieu of greeting while trying to look at my teeth in my cell phone. “If he is, he’s early, and he can wait.”
Before she could answer, my door opened. And there was Donovan. Striding in like he’d been invited.
Guess Ellen hadn’t been calling about my one thirty.
I dropped my cell. Thank god, my teeth had been clean.
Because, damn, Donovan looked hot. Wicked hot. Hotter than last time I’d seen him, which wasn’t saying much because he always looked hotter than the last time I’d seen him. His suit today was light gray, his tie thin and black, his scruff thickening as afternoon rolled in.
But it was never what he wore or how recently he’d trimmed that made him sexy. It was how he stood, how he moved. Like he owned every inch of space that he took up. Like he deserved to own it.
It was how he looked at me. Like he owned me. Like he deserved to own me.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen rattled on through the receiver of the phone I was still holding. “It’s Mr. Kincaid. He just walked in. Obviously.” She sounded flustered, but she couldn’t possibly feel as flustered as I did with him in my office.
I mean, I got it. To her, he was The Big Boss. He held power over her.
That was nothing compared to the power he held over me.
“It’s okay, Ellen.” I started to tell her to hold my calls and cancel any appointments because, after four long days and nights of carnal thoughts about the man, I needed this encounter to get naughty. Just seeing him had ruined my panties.
But on the other hand, he’d put me through those four long days and nights of torture, and he didn’t deserve to be greeted with me falling at his feet.
“Buzz me when Mr. Hoder arrives,” I said instead. Reluctantly. Then hung up.
Need you Now (Top Shelf Romance Book 2) Page 19
