Page 120 of Twisted Knight

I chuckle. Even my laugh is strained with need as I move from office to office. From space to space. The sound of footsteps catching my ear every couple of minutes.

She’s going to end up in my office.

Wasn’t that the gist of all our texts earlier? Her. My desk. Fucking her on it.

I quietly move toward it and am surprised when I step inside and find it empty. More than surprised. I’m fucking desperate.

I pick up my phone and text. Another hint?

But my text goes unanswered as I head to the conference room to double-check its many places to hide. And I’m just about to head in there when movement catches the corner of my eye through the crack in the door.

Rowan is slinking down the hallway and coming straight for the conference room. I stand behind the door and wait for her. She pushes the door open, slowly, quietly, and from one beat to the next, I have her body pinned against the wall.

She yelps out a laugh, but her chest is heaving and her eyes are wide, lids half-hooded with desire. Her pulse jumps erratically from where my hand rests like a necklace around her throat.

“Olly olly oxen free,” I whisper.

“You found me. Now what are you going to do with me?” Her warm breath hits my lips, each word adding gasoline on the fire.

“Oh, Sunshine, there’s a lot of things I want to do with you. To you. In you.” I dart my tongue out to wet my lips, and it’s only then that I take her in. All of her. The jacket she had on that I didn’t question has now fallen open to reveal the fucking sexiest bra and garter set I’ve ever seen. There are straps and lace and a mix of leather, and her nipples are spilling over the bra’s edge while her pussy is bare beneath the garters that are hanging down her thighs.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

This woman is going to be my undoing.

My fucking demise.

Her outfit. Her body. The pout of her parted lips. The seductive look in her eyes. Her panted-out laugh.

Fuck waiting.

I want.

And so, I take.

I slant my lips over hers and steal every fucking breath of hers in a no-holds-barred kiss.

It’s angry and hungry and she tastes as fucking desperate as I feel. There are no thoughts. No choreographed moves. We’re a mess of hands and lips and groans and pleas.

Her jacket falls. My pants are shoved down. We shuffle toward the conference room table, where chairs are shoved aside and her ass is lifted onto the wood table.

“You’re a fucking cock tease,” I say against her lips as she reaches out and wraps her fingers around my dick.

I hiss out a breath. Then moan out a groan.

“And what a nice cock it is.” She lifts her eyebrows in a taunt as I fight the urge to fuck her hand.

“I thought you said we couldn’t do this again.”

“I changed my mind.” She squeezes her hand tighter and my eyes all but roll back in my head. Does she not realize how fucking hard it is to have a conversation when your cock is being stroked by a woman who is dressed like she is?

“You changed your mind?”

“I’m fickle like that,” she murmurs and leans in for a kiss that causes me to grow harder—if that’s even possible.

“I’ll take fickle. I’ll take angry. I’ll take fucking all of you.”

“I think it’s supposed to be me taking all of you.”