Grace
I didn’t know what was happening anymore.
My mind just stopped functioning. His touches, his caresses, his voice… god, his words. They crawled all the way down my spine.
“You’re soaked, served to me like the perfect course. It’d be rude not to indulge. Now be still, and let me eat.”
What—what even was that? Who says something like that?
Never in my twenty-three years of life had I heard anything so brazen, so brutally honest, so arrogant, and somehow still hot enough to make my thighs shake.
The desk was long, and cold. I was in the middle, spread open like some damn offering, legs parted wide, and him between them like I was his personal feast. The look in his eyes, fuck, he looked like a predator savoring the scent before the first bite. And I was the meal. Plated and prepared for him.
I almost laughed, if I wasn’t burning up from the inside out. How did I go from ignoring him, hiding from him, running in the opposite direction of this man, to laying on his damn desk, heart r
