Steele’s desk

Bend over.”

His voice—low, rough, and sharp enough to cut—makes my stomach flip.

Dominic Steele’s hand finds my waist. Not gentle. Not asking. Just… claiming. He turns me toward the massive oak desk like I’m his to move.

I catch my breath. My pulse is so loud I almost miss my own voice.

“B-but… Mr. Steele—”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His tone dips lower, a dark velvet that slides under my skin. He pushes my pencil skirt higher, the fabric brushing my thighs in slow, deliberate strokes. His hands are hot—too hot—leaving trails I’ll feel for hours. “You look like you’re about to tell me no… but your body? It’s begging for me.”

I glance over my shoulder. His storm-grey eyes are steady, unblinking, like they’re wired to my pulse.

“The manager… he’s still here—”

“I don’t give a damn.” His grip moves to my chin, forcing my gaze back to him. “Say my name, fiery one.”

“Mr. Steele…” It’s meant to be firm, but it falls out like a moan.

“That’s better.” His mouth is on mine before I can think—hungry, punishing, demanding. His kiss tastes like power and danger. One hand drags my panties aside like they’re a technical issue he’s fixing, nothing more.

The sound of his zipper slices the quiet.

And then—

“Ahhh—yesss…” My knuckles whiten against the desk.

He’s deep. Fast. Relentless.

“Fuck… Sienna.” My name breaks out of him in a growl that rattles my bones. His hands dig into my hips—too hard, but I don’t pull away. I bite down on my own hand, swallowing the sounds clawing up my throat. Somewhere down the hall, Kelvin—the floor manager—might still be in his office, oblivious to the fact that his boss is buried inside his secretary like she’s the only thing that matters.

Because I am.

I’m Sienna Ward. Secretary to the CEO of The Steele Dynasty, one of the most powerful companies in the world. And at night? I’m his.

His secret. His addiction. His sin.

Since the day I first saw Dominic Steele—cold, ruthless, devastatingly gorgeous—my life’s been off its axis. He looked at me like a man marking his next prize. And now here I am, bent over his desk, whispering his name like a prayer.

Except… there’s one problem.

Dominic Steele is engaged.

To Clara.

My ex–best friend. The senator’s daughter. The golden girl his mother adores. And the same girl who once left me broken.

Dominic doesn’t care. He’s the kind of man who takes what he wants, even when it’s wrong. Especially when it’s wrong.

“Good girl,” he mutters, finishing with a low, dangerous sound that makes my toes curl.

I fix my skirt, heart still hammering, as he zips up like nothing happened.

“A driver’s picking you up tomorrow. You’re moving into a new apartment.”

“A new what?”

He steps in close, brushing my hair back like he’s arranging a gift.

“A reward. For being so good.” His lips brush my jaw. “Thank me properly next time, baby.”

I can’t help the faint smile. “Thanks, zaddy.”

The kiss he gives me after that is sharp and claiming—like he’s reminding me exactly who I belong to. Then it’s over. He’s straightening his collar, answering his phone without looking away from me.

“I’ll be there,” he says to whoever’s on the other end. Then the coat goes on, the mask slips back into place.

“See you tomorrow, Miss Ward. Make sure my morning schedule’s on my desk.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door closes. And just like that… he’s gone.

Later That Night

“Hi, sis! Welcome home!” Ann calls from the dining table without looking up from her homework. She’s sixteen and a carbon copy of our mom—big brown eyes, soft curls, a gentle calm about her. I take after Dad. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the kind of curves that draw stares whether I want them or not.

It’s no wonder Dominic’s addicted.

“Where’s Dad?” I set the groceries down.

“With Diana,” she says, voice flat. That says it all.

Diana—our stepmother in name only. No wedding ring, just a messy history and a five-year-old boy named Ryan, the only good thing to come from her.

“Hi, Sissy!” Ryan barrels in, wrapping his little arms around me.

“Hey, champ.” I lift him up, breathing in his shampoo-sweet scent.

“You’re back,” Dad says, stepping into the kitchen, tie loose, hair mussed.

“I’m moving out tomorrow.”

He freezes. “What? Where?”

“Closer to work,” I say quickly, not looking at Diana leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Or closer to your boss?” she cuts in, voice dripping with mockery.

I ignore her.

Ann’s chair scrapes back as she follows me upstairs. “Can I come with you?”

“Only on weekends,” I say softly. “You know how strict Dad is.”

Truth? I’m not letting her anywhere near Dominic Steele.

I fall onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I started this job to survive. Now I’m drowning in it. Falling for a man I can’t have—a man who’s already taken.

And the worst part?

I might be carrying more than just his name.