T oday is going to be a long, long fucking day. Longer than usual. Back-to-back meetings during the entire business day, including going over financial specs for the last quarter and projecting our spending for next year. Listening to each department try to pitch me on why they need more money than the other departments do .

And then I get to stay late and take care of all my other usual work shit .

Samantha’s in for a fun surprise. Welcome to being my assistant .

I move around my penthouse, not taking in much of the sunrise casting warm pink color across the large open living room. I bought this apartment with cash, a testament to all my hard work. It overlooks the city with a stunning view. Filled with posh furniture and cutting-edge electronics. A kitchen a chef would kill for .

And I’m never around long enough to enjoy it .

I should throw a party, I think, then laugh at myself. Right. Who would I invite? I hate being around people. Forced to smile and act “normal,” act like I’m just like everyone else. Like I have a social life, friends, people who want to hang out with me outside of what I can do for them to advance their goals and aspirations .

I shower in my slate-tiled bathroom, towel off, dress impeccably. If I’m going to insist on perfection from others, I must be willing to deliver the same. Not a hair out of place, nor an errant wrinkle .

In the limo, I check emails and respond to all the ones I can before I start my day of hell. When I step inside the office, Samantha is already waiting for me, wearing a white button-down shirt and a black skirt that hugs her gorgeous curves. Her hair is pulled back in a bun with wisps around her face and neck. I can’t complain about the professionalism; she’s meeting my guidelines. But something seems different about her .

Red lipstick. Her lips are fiery red, tempting me to kiss the lipstick off…or smear it in other ways. Fuck. The thought of those bold lips on my cock makes my blood stir, and I force that urge to go away .

I’m not fucking doing this today .

“Mr. Strongwell, I have your coffee and notes for your first meeting on your desk.” Eye contact, too. She usually doesn’t look at me this much, her gaze often skittering around the room or remaining fixed on anything else but me .

Am I just imagining things ?

“Thank you,” I tell her and spin, turn into my office. Maybe if I got decent sleep, I wouldn’t be reacting so strongly to her. Right .

The coffee is made just the way I like it, the notes neatly placed in a folder on my desk. I like her attention to detail—that she’s picking up on things I want without me needing to say them. Starting to predict my desires .

Which, of course, leads me down a dangerous path I can’t follow, so I open the folder and ignore, ignore, ignore the beast roaring to come out of me .

I do three back-to-back meetings, then a lunch meeting with the editorial staff. Pop in for a baby shower, followed by more meetings. Through it all, Samantha doesn’t crack or complain once. She stays nearby but not intrusively so. Reacts quickly to my requests. Pulls up data and answers questions like a pro .

Like she was made for this position .

I have to admit, watching her work so smoothly makes me proud. Proud and turned on as hell. She’s so pristinely put together and I want to muss her up, see her weak and needy and aching for me to put her back together again. And those damn red lips…she’s never worn red lipstick before .

It would really be crossing a line to tell her not to wear it again. Or to tell her to only wear it. I really don’t know which way I’m leaning right now. I’ve never felt this much lust for one woman…or been as intrigued on an emotional and intellectual level. Samantha is clearly naïve and vulnerable, but also stubborn and full of fire .

And submissive .

She may not even know that about herself yet, but it’s right there in the way she strives to please me. This goes beyond work. It’s how she takes pride in my praise. And Jesus, does it make me want to do terrible things to her. I can’t fucking stop thinking about her, wanting to possess her completely .

Fuck her senseless. Make her beg for me to touch her, to make her come…to punish her when she’s a bad girl .

But no good can ever come of this wicked impulse I feel that’s growing stronger every day. I’d only destroy her. I’m incapable of giving anyone the things they need .

I quietly watch Samantha hand out papers to the members attending our last meeting. It’s early evening, and she’s slowing down, clearly fatigued but rallying to keep the energy going .

She’s doing it for me .

God, I fucking want her .

And I will never have her .

I realize everyone is looking at me now, and I clear my throat and pretend I was paying full attention to the topic at hand. Chime in on the forecasted up-and-comers on our list. The editorial team is excited, talking over themselves to gush about new authors we’ve acquired who we can position to make good money for us. The top of the pipeline .

When the meeting is over and the last person leaves, Samantha goes around the room and tidies the conference table. Fuck me, her stockings have a seam right down the backs of her legs. Running up into that tight skirt and down to her black high heels .

She bends over to reach a paper in the middle of the table, skirt hiking up those thighs, and my cock jumps. Christ, I want to grab the back of her neck, push her onto the table, rip the back of that skirt. Is she wearing stockings with garters? Why the fuck am I wondering this ?

Because I crave this woman, that’s why .

I need a drink. Just one. To take the edge off this tension that’s been in me all day. This ache for her. Being in close proximity has made my nerves raw .

“Leave that,” I tell her in a gruffer tone than I intend .

Samantha straightens and turns to me. Her hair is looser now in its bun, with more tendrils falling around her face and throat. I want to rip the bun out and thread my hand in her hair. And she has that damn gaze on me again, so directly. Like a challenge .

That’s what it is. It’s like she’s challenging me somehow .

“It’s not a big deal,” she says smoothly. “I can clean it up easily .”

“Not your job,” I tell her. “Go to my office and pour two glasses of Bulleit. Set them on my desk, and sit in the chair and wait for me.” I need a moment to clear my head before I come join her .

She worked her ass off today, and she deserves a moment to relax .

A delicate pink flush works its way across her cheeks, and she gives me a small nod of agreement, then leaves the room, her ass swaying side to side .

I am not going to fuck her. I am not going to fuck her .

Bud goddammit, I’ve never wanted someone this badly in my entire life. She’s testing every last ounce of my self-control, and I possess a considerable amount of it .

After a moment of repeating to myself that I will not fuck her under any condition, I leave the conference room and join her. Good girl, she’s done as asked, one glass in front of my chair and one in front of hers. The entire floor of our building is empty now. The only light in my office is the warm desk lamp .

I close the door behind me, drop with a sigh into my chair, and loosen my tie, then close my eyes. Deep sigh .

“Long day,” she muses. “Do you need anything else, Mr. Strongwell ?”

“Just…” I open my eyes and look at her. “Just call me Bentley tonight, okay? I’m tired of being…on.” And I am, it’s true. But it’s also because I want to pretend for a little while that I’m just a man, enjoying a nice glass of whiskey with a gorgeous woman. No pressure, no strings .

Her shy smile is sexy as fuck. “Okay,” she says softly .

“You did well today,” I say as I take a sip. The warm liquid slides down my throat and leaves a fire burning in its wake. Instantly my limbs loosen. I strip off my tie and leave it on the far side of my desk .

“Thanks. Kim did a great job training me,” she says as she sips her own drink .

“She did,” I agree. “But in the end, you held those meetings together and kept everyone on time. You were a godsend.” I’m surprised at the praise flowing from me. I’m not normally this forthcoming. Am I just tired? Or does she evoke this from me ?

“Are you hungry?” she asks me innocently, eyes wide. She stands up and leans forward, reaching toward my top drawer where I keep the takeout menus. I told her on day one where they were. As she moves, a button on her blouse undoes itself, and I can see her lacy white bra, the tempting cleavage of her breasts. She doesn’t seem to notice, rifling through the drawer. “What are you in the mood for ?”

Jesus fucking Christ. If I didn’t know her better, I’d think she was doing this on purpose. “I don’t fucking care,” I say and look away .

I’m not going to fuck her .

I’m not going to fuck her .

Samantha pulls back and resumes her seat, a menu in hand. “Then we’re getting pizza,” she declares. “Because I know you won’t eat if you go straight home .”

I can’t help but chuckle. “You’ve learned a lot about me in such a short amount of time .”

Her lips part, and a dimple pops out as she smiles. “Well, I want to do the best I can for you .”

Something in my chest loosens from the openness on her face .

I take a deep chug of my whiskey. A light buzz works its way into me. “You’re not drinking,” I say .

“If you want me to, I will .”

“Maybe you should .”

“Is that an order…Bentley ?”

“And if I say it is?” I find myself asking in return .

“I like to follow your orders .”

She still hasn’t noticed the damn open button yet, and God help me, I’m not going to fucking point it out. Because I can’t seem to stop looking at those luscious tits. I want to touch them. I want my mouth on them. I am a walking lawsuit waiting to happen, and right now I’m struggling to care .

Because it seems like Samantha is feeling something too .

Her breasts are rising and falling in a ragged rhythm. Her cheeks are stained pink, and she’s practically chewed off all her red lipstick at this point. And she’s still fucking locking eyes with me .

“You will finish that drink,” I tell her .

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, then takes a big gulp .

The “sir” does it. I see the line, and I step right over it. I have to. I can’t stop myself now if I tried. “Drink the last bit.” My voice is low, almost a warning. To see if she’ll back off, turn around and leave the office. She has to know she’s playing with fire here .

Her eyes are on mine as she drains her glass then rests it on the counter .

I chug my whiskey, barely tasting the last bit, then stand. Come around to her side of the desk. Her breasts are heaving now, her lips parted. I can almost smell her arousal. She’s fucking turned on .

By me giving her orders .

God, I’m gone .

“Stand up,” I tell her .

She rises .

“Did you wear this outfit intentionally today?” I ask her as I stand mere inches from her. If I lean down, I could capture her lips with mine. I could taste her the way I’ve ached to since I met her .

“Yes,” she says in a tight voice .

“You know your shirt is unbuttoned, don’t you,” I continue .

“Yes.”

“What do you want?” I ask her tightly. My whole body is tense, strained. Coiled. I want to fucking touch her so badly that my fingers ache for it .

“I…” Her gaze darts away from mine .

“Look at me,” I bark .

That rips her eyes back to me. “I…” She swallows. “I wanted to know .”

I take another step forward. There’s a sliver of air separating us now. If she sucks in a deep breath, her breasts will graze my chest. I can see her nipples pebbling through her thin excuse for a bra. “Know what ?”

She doesn’t answer. Stares up at me, her face flickering with emotion—caution, desire, confusion. And finally, resolve. “If you…if you wanted me .”

My mouth is on hers before either of us can speak another word. I swallow her surprised gasp, deepening the kiss. She groans and opens for me like a flower, and I tug her flush against me. Oh God, it’s intoxicating, the way she is so innocent but so aroused .

I tug her hair free the way I’ve wanted to for so long and grab it. Her rapid inhale, followed by the instant softening of her body, says a lot .

She’s submissive. Definitely .

Power surges through me, and I’m desperate to take more. But no. That demon will stay tucked away. For now, I slide my mouth to her jaw, biting and licking the tender flesh, and she shudders. Her small, cool hands reach up and grip my back. Urge me ever nearer .

“Tell me to stop, Samantha,” I growl against her collarbone. “Tell me to stop, and walk out this door .”

“I can’t,” she pants, and I’m fucking done .

“Take off your shirt,” I tell her as I pull back. “And your skirt .”

She blinks, her chest rising and falling. Then her fingers are fumbling and she’s undoing button by button. My hands are screaming at me to just rip the fucking thing off her, but I manage to keep myself in check. I’m not giving in to the need to dominate. Not to that extent, anyway. Not as much as I ache to .

Her shirt falls to the sides, then she shrugs it off. My mouth waters at the sight of her breasts. But I remain still .

Her hands move behind her, and she unzips her skirt. It falls to the floor as well .

Fucking slay me. They are garters. That fucking temptress .

“Those are very provocative,” I say. “You wore those for me, didn’t you.” I can’t help but step toward her again. My lust is roaring to the surface, and blood is pumping in my veins, and if I don’t taste that pussy right now I’m going to fucking die. “Sit on the edge of the desk.” I know my voice is harsher than it should be, but I’m struggling so hard to maintain control .

She does as I command, and I can see a slight tremble in her limbs. Is she nervous? Aroused? I think both. But I’m going to make her feel so damn good .

I yank her thighs apart and without waiting, drop to my knees and suck her through her panties. Fuck, the fabric is already soaked, the crotch drenched with her juices. I tug it to the side and take a long swipe along her slit with my tongue .

Her fingers curl into my hair, and she groans. “Oh my God!” Her thighs are trembling harder on the desk. I want to shatter her apart. I need to. I have to .

Her pussy is divinity, a place to cherish, and I give her everything I have. Suck her delicate flesh between my teeth, lick, nibble, slurp. Taste her the way she deserves to be tasted. Devoured. Her pussy juices are coating my mouth, and I know in this moment that I always want to taste like this .

She’s bucking her pelvis at me now, her body reacting instinctively. Jesus, she’s so responsive. Her soft moans and pleas hit me straight in the chest. My cock is so hard I could explode .

I spread her labia apart with one hand and nudge at her entrance with a finger. She stiffens for a moment. “I won’t hurt you,” I murmur as I stand and lean over her. Her eyes are glassy, face and chest pink from arousal. Her nipples are hard, and she is absolutely aroused. But also nervous .

“Sorry,” she says, a hint of embarrassment in her voice, in the way she looks away from me. It’s clear she doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience .

Fuck me, but something animalistic roars in me at being the one who gets to touch her this way. I swirl my finger around her entrance and wrap my other arm around her waist to pull her close. As close as she can be. I will make her look at me while she comes apart on my hand. She will know I am the one who did this, who gave her pleasure .

I know it’s insane, it’s possessive, but I can’t help myself .

Her cunt is nice and drenched for me, and my finger glides right inside her tight channel. Jesus, she’s unbelievably tight. Her gasp of pleasure urges me to keep going. So I use my thumb to stroke her clit as I fuck her with my hand. I suck her breast through her bra, nibbling on the nipple, and she arches against me .

“Oh God, Bentley!” she cries out, shaking. “That…that… Yes, please, please …”

“Do not come yet,” I tell her as I pull back and look at her. Her eyes are begging me, just the way I want them to, but I need her pleading me harder. “Get right to the edge and stay there. Do you understand me ?”

“I… Yes,” she breathes. Her breaths are rapid, irregular, and she’s bucking against my hand. I’m sure my desk is soaked beneath her, which is so unbelievably fucking hot .

Soon, I can tell she’s right there. Her pussy is swollen for me, her clit a hard nub, and I let my thumb rub right on the sides to drive her wild .

“Please,” she gasps. “Please. I… I’m so close …”

“Not yet,” I order her. “You fucking wait.” I delay her for another long minute of delicious torture. My body is breaking apart too, wanting to push inside her so badly I can hardly breathe .

Her head falls back and she’s crying out, and in this moment all her nervousness from earlier is gone. Right where I want her .

“Come for me, Samantha,” I demand as I plunge another finger inside her tight cunt. “Fucking come all over my hand .”

There’s a pause as she stiffens, and then her body bows and she cries out, “God, yes, yes!” and her orgasm erupts and she’s exploding, soaring. I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life as the look of sheer, raw pleasure on her face .

If I don’t get inside her, I’m going to lose my damn mind .

“I need to fuck you,” I say baldly. “Tell me yes .”

“Yes,” she pants. “Please. I…” She’s still in the throes of her orgasm and her whole body is loose now, pliant for me. Samantha peers at me shyly. “Please .”

I tug a condom from my wallet and strip out of my clothes. Roll it on my aching cock .

“Um…where do you want me?” she asks, her cheeks flushed .

“Right here,” I say. I nudge her panties to the side and let the head of my cock press against her slick pussy. God, the heat radiating from there is magnetic. I can smell her. I hope my office always smells like this—like her arousal, her beautiful arousal .

I lean down and take her in a kiss as I unfasten the back of her bra. I need those gorgeous tits free, pressed against me. She sighs when I release her, and I cup the mounds, kneading them gently. My thumbs graze her erect nipples, and she sucks in a breath .

She’s so wanton, so wet and desperate for me. It’s intoxicating, powerful .

I push the head of my dick into her, and she pauses again, that same stiffness from before. Her brows flick together briefly and she looks away from me, dragging her lower lip between her teeth .

I drop one hand to reach around her back, stroking her lower spine. “Samantha. Look at me.” She’s skittish like a deer .

She finally drags her gaze my way. Her eyes are flickering with loaded emotion. Part of me wonders if I should stop. Then she says, “I want this. Please, Bentley .”

I push into her, inch by excruciating inch. Christ, this woman is tighter than anyone I’ve ever been with in my entire life. But she’s soaked and she wants me. I lick her flesh between her neck and shoulder, then drop down to her nipple, drawing it into my mouth .

I’m aching all over, and I want her to come apart again, on my cock this time .

I finally push all the way in, and she pauses with a gasp of pain .

I freeze .

There’s… No, she can’t be …

I pull back and look Samantha in the eye, not removing myself from her. Not yet. I need to hear her tell me. “Are you a virgin ?”

Her telltale cheeks burst into red. She swallows. “Um. Was .”

Fuck. The weight of this moment hits me hard in the chest. What the fuck? I …

Her gaze drops down in embarrassment, and she starts to draw away from me .

I yank her closer until our bodies are flush. Oh, no she doesn’t. Certainty fills me now, the knowledge that she is trusting me to make this feel good for her. I’m going to make this night something memorable. “You’re going to come all over me, Samantha. Again and again. Do you understand ?”

That gets her attention. She looks up, the uncertainty fading from her eyes .

I withdraw a little and nudge back in. Again. Again. Until her channel is wet and open for me, until she’s gasping for me to plunge deeper. But I won’t give it to her. Not yet. She’s not begging me hard enough .

She’s still in her head. And I want her in her body, feeling what I do. The insane lust that floods me when I look at her .

My own desire is building from the torturous moves—denying myself as well as her. I need to explode inside her. Claim her as mine, even if for a night .

Finally, her knees clench on the sides of my hips, and she thrusts against my pelvis. Head thrown back, arms wrapped around me, one hand clenching the back of my neck. She’s feeling it now .

I begin to fuck her in earnest, slamming that hot, wet cunt, earning groans of delight. I touch her everywhere, overloading her senses, tasting her salt-tinged skin. She’s beautiful and she’s here in my arms, and I’m getting her right to the point of another orgasm .

Her limbs begin to do that telltale tremble again that they did before. I fuck her harder, pump my raging dick into her channel .

“Bentley,” she gasps, nails blindly gripping me. Her head is nestled on my neck now, her breaths panting on my skin. “God, yes, yes .”

“Not yet,” I warn her. I need her insane with desire to come .

My own body is as hard as a brick, my legs aching from hammering into her, but I’ll be damned if I stop. Not when we’re both so close. And after she comes for me again, I’m going to erupt inside her .

Before I know what I’m doing, I grip the back of her head, fist clenched in her hair. She gives a small squeak, but her fingers are digging into me, indicating her approval. I can smell her cunt, feel the way her juices are pouring out of her. The sound of our bodies slapping together, wet and hot and lustful .

“Now,” I command. “Come now, Samantha. Come all over my cock .”

Another few moments of relentless hammering, and then she stiffens and screams, and I can feel her pussy clenching around my dick, and oh God it feels like heaven, and then my balls are so tight they ache and I’m coming too, spilling my seed, and we’re holding each other .

It takes me several long, long moments to come back from what just happened. I’m shaking. When the fuck was the last time I came so hard? When sex was so powerful and intense for me? I can’t remember .

I don’t want to remember .

This is just fucking. Nothing more. Can’t ever be anything more .

Samantha sucks in a deep breath and relaxes against me, her body slumping. She’s sweaty and loose and her breathing is evening out. I can feel her smile against my chest. “Wow .”

I stroke her hair from her damp brow and then withdraw from her. Strangely, my body is aching for more…but I’m far too disciplined for that. We were fucking, is all .

Even if I did just take her virginity .

Fuck.

When I look over at her, she’s slipping her clothes back on, buttoning her blouse. Her hair is mussed from being ravaged. Her mouth is swollen and pink .

I yank on my clothes without making eye contact. My brain is screaming at me—you just fucked an employee. An employee and a woman you can’t possibly give anything of value to. Way to go .

“So. Um,” she says. I can hear hesitation in her voice. “I …”

“You can take tomorrow off,” I tell her, dropping into a chair to put on my shoes and lace them. I can’t look at her. I could hear in her voice that there’s more emotion than I can face. I’m not ready for this. I’m not good enough for this. “We have a light schedule, and I don’t have anything major planned .”

Not to mention I need a day to have some space from her. To balance myself out again and let go of whatever the fuck is happening in me .

“Um, okay.” Her reply is soft .

I finally force myself to look at Samantha. Her big brown eyes are filled with questions. That sexy fucking hair of hers is all messy, and all I want to do is bury my hands in it again and plunge back inside that hot, wet body. Until both of us are too sore to move .

But I know me. This is a girl who will want more eventually. I can’t give it. I don’t have anything inside me to give .

I should never have done this. Never have given in to that intense moment of lust. Well, I can’t take it back, but I can make it right from here on out. And I will. I will deal with whatever fallout comes from this. It’s all my responsibility .

I go to the desk and drape my tie around my neck. Take careful time and attention to tie it. I don’t know what else to say. What else to do .

Samantha is still staring at me, but I can’t let my gaze go back to her again .

Then she steps into her heels and leaves, the door closing behind her .