Kane POV
I was leaning against the hallway wall outside her office. My arms folded, I was pretending to scroll through threat reports on my phone when the sound hit me.
It was soft, wet and rhythmic.
I knew that sound. I'd heard it in barracks at 2 a.m, through cheap drywall.
I'd heard it in my own head for the last six months every time she walked past me in one of those pencil skirts that looked like they were painted on.
The door to her private study was cracked two inches. The light from her laptop spilled across the carpet like a guilty little runway.
I should've kept walking. Should've cleared my throat loud enough for her to slam the lid shut.
Instead I edged closer, silent as a fucking ghost, and really looked at her.
Elena Voss is twenty-eight. She's a billion-dollar baby who'd inherited the company when her father dropped dead on a yacht in Monaco.
She had legs for days which she crossed at the ankle, one stiletto dangling off her toes. Silk blouse unbuttoned just enough that I could see the black lace edge of her bra.
Her head was tipped back against the leather chair, eyes half-closed, bottom lip caught between perfect white teeth.
On the screen, some brunette was getting absolutely railed over a desk.
The sound was low, but not low enough. The guy's hand was fisted in the actress's hair exactly the way I'd pictured doing to Elena a hundred times.
Her free hand had slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, rubbing subtle circles on her clit. Her hips rolling just the tiniest bit.
"Mmmnnn.." A breathy little gasp escaped her....Jesus Christ....and my cock went from interested to a damn iron pipe in two seconds flat.
I must've shifted my weight because the floorboard creaked. Her eyes snapped open, and locked on the gap in the door. On me.
For one endless second neither of us moved.
Then she smiled, slow and feral.
She didn't pull her hand out, didn't close the laptop.
"Enjoying the show, Kane?"
I pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside, letting it click shut behind me. "You're the one who left the door open, princess."
"Don't call me that." Her voice was husky, still riding the edge of whatever orgasm she'd been chasing.
"And don't pretend you weren't jerking off in your room to the thought of me last week. Mrs. Alvarez does laundry, remember? She showed me the sheets."
Heat crawled up my neck. "You went through my fucking laundry?"
"I pay her to notice details." She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk, blouse gaping just enough to show the swell of her tits. "You come like a firehose, Kane. Impressive."
I took one step forward, then another. Until I was close enough to smell her perfume, it was something expensive and filthy mixed with the scent of her arousal.
"You want to keep pushing me, little girl?"
"Stop calling me little girl. I sign your checks."
"Yeah? Then fire me." I braced my hands on her desk, caging her in. "Go ahead. Do it right now."
Her pupils were dilated with lust.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Finally free of babysitting the spoiled heiress."
"Say the word, Elena."
She licked her lips and just when I thought she was about to give in..."No."
Silence stretched between us, thick enough to choke on.
Down the hall, the grandfather clock chimed once. It was half past midnight and the whole house was asleep.
It was just us and the frozen porn still looping on her screen.
I dropped my voice. "Close the laptop."
She didn't answer.
"Close it, or I will."
Her chin lifted, defiant flickering in her eyes. "Make me."
I reached past her, slow enough that my forearm brushed the lace-covered curve of her breast and slammed the lid shut.
The room went dark except for the city lights bleeding through the windows.
She didn't flinch. Just breathed through parted lips, watching me like prey that had decided it wanted to be caught.
"You've been fucking with me for months," I said quietly.
"Short skirts. Bending over in front of me when you know damn well what it does. Leaving your bedroom door open when you change. That little moan you make when you stretch after a long meeting...don't think I don't hear it through the wall."
Her throat worked. "You're paid to notice things."
"I'm paid to keep you alive. Not to pretend I don't want to bend you over this desk and find out how many times I can make you come before you forget your own name."
A soft laugh. "Big words from the guy who calls me 'ma'am' like it's a curse."
"Because if I call you what I actually want to call you..
baby, sweetheart, good fucking girl, I'll have you on your knees in the back of the Maybach and we both know it."
Her breath hitched. Just once but I heard it.
I straightened, putting two feet of space between us that felt like a continent. "Go to bed, Elena."
She didn't move. "Is that an order?"
"It's the last one you're getting tonight."
She stood slowly, deliberately smoothing her skirt down thighs I'd memorized the shape of.
When she stepped around the desk she stopped inches away, close enough that her nipples, which were hard little points under silk, almost brushed my chest.
"You're shaking," she whispered.
I wasn't. But my hands wanted to be.
She rose on her toes, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "When you do finally snap, Kane... make sure you don't hold back."
Then she walked past me, hips swaying, leaving the scent of her dripping cunt in the air like a dare.
I didn't move until I heard her bedroom door close upstairs.
Only then did I let my head fall back, dragging in a ragged breath, and palm the front of my slacks where my cock was trying to punch through the zipper.
Tomorrow she'll be back in boss mode. The ice queen with a sharp tongue, looking at me like I was furniture.
And I'd let her.
Because the longer this burned, the harder I was going to fuck her when the leash finally snapped.
I could already see it...her on her back across that mahogany desk, thighs spread wide, tits spilling out of that black lace bra, nipples dark and begging for my mouth.
I'd worship every inch. I'd lick the sweat from between her breasts, suck those perfect nipples until she cried and spread her open and tongue her clit until she forgot how to be a brat.
Then I'd flip her over, fist that silky hair, and sink into her so deep she'd feel me for days.
But not tonight.
Tonight I walked out of her study, locked the door behind me, and took the stairs two at a time to the guest wing.
I went straight into the bathroom, locked the door and took a cold shower. My hand wrapped around my cock the second the water hit my skin.
I stroked myself hard and fast, imagining I was fucking her pretty little cunt.
When I finally chased my climax, it was hard, brutal,and I bit my own forearm to stay quiet.
" Elena.." it was her name I growled into the dark.
Soon, I'd have her.
