Quinn gives me a solemn nod as his finger continues to caress my lip. “That pleases me. So much.”

“I’m glad.”

“You know what else will please me?”

“What?”

“This.” His fingers sinking into the collar of my dress is my first warning. The loud, long, merciless rip that follows is its own evidence. The dress he’s hated for a year hangs off my arms in a shredded mess he’s already forgotten about, if the rabid look in his eyes is any indication.

I didn’t just go for the outer trappings for my role. My underwear is also resurrected from a time when desperation was both my first and last names. It’s clean, but cheap.

“Jesus. I don’t know whether to spank your tight little ass or commend you for this fucking audacity.” He turns me around and yanks the dress free to better examine the thrift store–bought set of charmless white cotton panties and matching bra. Impatient fingers slide under the bra straps and push them aside.

An angry hiss rips from him as he traces a patch of slightly stinging skin. “Fucking hell, Elyse. Do you know it’s left a mark? Do you know how crazy that makes me?” he growls.

“I’m sorry.”

Without warning, his teeth sink into the curve of my shoulder. It’s not painful, but there’s enough intent to grab my attention, right before he kisses the ravaged pain away. “Are you? I don’t think you are. I think you’re determined to push me over the fucking edge. Is that your intention here?”

“As long as I get to come with you over that edge, yes.”

That paralyzes him for a moment. Then his head drops between my shoulders. “God, Elly. So much power. So much fucking power,” he whispers against my skin.

“Please, Mr. Blackwood.”

“You destroy me. The moment you lifted those beautiful eyes and looked into my camera, you fucking destroyed me.”

“Please.”

His hands move over my body even as he continues speaking. “Every word you spoke, every breath.” Fingers unhook my bra and pull it off me. A kiss at the top of my spine. “I wanted to know every single thing about you. I wanted to own you.”

“You did. You owned me. You still do.”

“Then I wanted to protect you.”

“You protect me.”

“Not always.” Pressure at my waist and then the glide of my nude tights over my hips and down my legs. I step out of my flats, and he pulls the thin material free. “I let that fucking asshole Getty take you from me.” His fingers bite into my thighs for a moment, before they caress upward to rest on the lower curves of my butt. I feel the touch of his lips on my left butt cheek a second later, then a nip of teeth, then another kiss on my right. “And you know what I swore that day, Elyse? As I watched him drive off in that fucking van with you in the back?”

I’m high up a tower in the middle of the financial district wearing nothing but a pair of cheap cotton panties, while one of the most powerful men in the country whispers dark memories against my skin.

“No?”

“I swore that if I ever got you back, if I was ever given the privilege of having you in my life again, I would die before I let another human being hurt a hair on your head.”

I’m thankful he’s behind me. That those incisive eyes can’t see the guilt I’m sure is naked on my face.

“I…”

“That’s a promise I intend to keep for as long as time will let us.”

Wait…something about that doesn’t sound right. I start to turn around. His hands shackle my waist, and he lifts me onto the table like I weigh nothing. The move surprises me enough to shatter my train of thought. And from my elevated height, I have a clear, uncensored view of his every emotion as he stares up at me. From the first, he’s had the ability to tilt my world on its axis, but the naked emotion I see in his face now, the arousal and pain and worship and need, throws me into another dimension.

But even as I struggle to find the right words to respond, he’s morphing, a chameleon slipping back into his perfect skin. Between one blink and the next, he’s the powerful real estate mogul, and I his decadent morsel. When I’m steady enough on my feet, he lets go and steps back.

“Get down on your knees, Elly. Face my chair.”

I don’t hesitate. The glass greets my knees as I sink onto it and rest my hands on my thighs. The mild shock of my heated body against the cool surface draws goose bumps and puckers my nipples. Quinn’s gaze drops, and he takes a sizzling note of it. The huge bulge behind his fly visibly shifts, and his jaw grits before he turns away and returns to his seat. He helps himself to more pasta and bread.

For a full five minutes, he doesn’t speak. Or look up as he eats. When he’s done, he places the silverware at a precise angle before he picks up his wineglass.

Only then does his eerily hypnotizing gaze lift to snare mine.

“So my eager little Elly who wants everything…Where shall we start?”

“Wherever you want.”

“So accommodating. Okay, if memory serves, I wasn’t the only one caught in that torrid little spell you wove around me the last time you were here.”

“No.”

“Ah, so you harbored a shameless little secret of your own?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Tell me.”

“I…I wanted you to fuck me.”

“I guessed that much. But there are so many levels of insanity and I’m craving specifics. So…how badly did you want it while you were sitting at my table with your hands neatly folded and your legs primly crossed?” His voice is almost a bored rumble but his eyes are on fire.

A rush of heat stains my cheeks. “Bad. It was really bad. Talking to you, being you with…made me ache. And…wet.”

“And did you walk around with it all day or did you take care of it?”

My whole body is on fire from the memories. “I tried to take care of it once.”

“How?”

“I locked myself in the ladies’ room cubicle once, and I almost touched myself.”

One sleek eyebrow lifts. “Almost?”

I nod.

“Why almost?”

“I…It didn’t feel right. Not with Q…in my life too. But I also wanted…more than just my fingers.”

That draws a hint of a smile from him. “My gorgeous, loyal Elly. Well, there’s no need to deny yourself now, is there?”

“No.”

“Go ahead, then, sweetheart.” His gaze drags down my body to where my panties hide the last of my naked body from him. Then it returns to my hair. “Start by taking that thing off your head.”

I’ve forgotten about the server’s cap pinned to my hair. I tug it off and toss it away, and my hair tumbles over my shoulders and down my back. A hint of satisfaction eases across his face.

He nods lower down my body. “Now, get rid of that offensive scrap of shit cradling that sweet pussy that belongs to me.”

I raise myself a few inches and draw the panties down my hips and over my thighs. I keep my eyes on him and spot the moment he sees the last surprise I have in store for him.

The long, thin platinum chain is fitted to rest just below my panty line with the longer loop that holds a tear-shaped pink diamond pendant adjusted to rest a scant inch above my clit. Specifically designed by Quinn, he gave me this decadent little present the first time he told me he loved me. I haven’t worn it in a while, and I see pleasure light his eyes when they rest on it.

That pleasure transmits through his body in the form of a shift in his seat and a dark little curse under his breath.

I hide a smile as I finish removing the panties and send them to join the rest of my discarded clothes.

“Open your legs, Elly,” comes the guttural directive.

I part my thighs on the glass table. The diamond drops cheekily to brush the top of my clit.

“Touch yourself the way you wanted to that day. Show me if your insanity came anywhere close to mine.”

I don’t need to wrack my brain to recall that desperate race into the bathroom. The torture of desperately wanting to be fucked by Quinn while knowing my promise to Q wouldn’t allow me to give in to my insane desire for Quinn Blackwood. In the battle between my mind and body, my mind won out that day, but not without driving myself to the edge of reason.

My breath shakes through me as my right hand trails toward the shamelessly wet space between my legs. My middle finger skates over the priceless jewel, but I have no time to appreciate it. I brush it aside and glide my fingers on either side of my pussy in a vain attempt to alleviate the lust spiking through me. But I know nothing but a full, honest contact will ease the pressure building inside me, so I close the gap between my fingers and squeeze my throbbing clitoris between my knuckles. Sensation rips through me. I slam my eyes shut and let out a loud, wanton moan.

“Motherfucker,” Quinn growls again under his breath. “Are you wet, Elly?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I moan again.

I hear him swallow a healthy gulp of wine. “Lean back. Show me.”

I push my hips forward while leaning back on my left hand. My knees slide wider apart, and with my fingers on either side of my pussy lips, he can’t fail to see how soaked, how desperate, I am.

“Jesus, Elly. Open your eyes. Show me more.”

My lids are heavier than lead but I pry them open and give him what he wants because denying him is denying myself. We watch each other, feed each other’s lust as my fingers work, flicking and caressing my pining flesh.

When I can’t take any more, I slip my middle finger inside, gasping when my greedy channel sucks me in. The moans torn from my throat begin to blend into one endless litany.

Like the sex maestro he is, Quinn times me to perfection, knows when I’m poised on the edge of no return. He surges to his feet, pauses to take a deep breath, and rounds the table to where I’m splayed for his pleasure.

Still holding his wineglass, he taps his palm on the edge of the table. “Here. Come to me. Don’t stop touching yourself.”

A marionette on a string, I reposition myself for him, exposing everything that I am to him. He towers over me, his eyes missing nothing as I continue to pleasure myself, as he slowly bends toward me, as if my body’s gyrations are the strings controlling his puppet.

“My God, do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” he slurs, drunk on our lust. On me.

The words tug at me deep inside, firing up another conflagration that sends my hips, my fingers in a twisted, frenzied search for a climax. “Please…Quinn…Mr. Blackwood, help me!”

“My pussy, Elly,” he warns.

“Yes!”

He leans closer and swipes his tongue over my lower lip. “How close are you, sweetheart?”

“So so close. God…please.”

“You know I won’t be able to have a business lunch at this table from now on without seeing your gorgeous body on top of it, don’t you?”

“I…”

“I’ll probably need to throw everyone out halfway through it so I can jerk off like a goddamn schoolboy to this image of you. Does that make you happy?” A flick of his knuckle over my straining nipple.

Too much. I can’t take it anymore. I raise pleading eyes to his. “Have mercy, Mr. Blackwood,” I whisper.

A mighty breath shudders out of him. “Have mercy? I can barely stand up straight I’m so twisted up for you.” His head drops and his mouth closes around my nipple and he draws me in a hot, merciless pull.

“Oh!” My pussy spasms around my finger, the ripples intensifying as he suckles me.

My finger has gained a life and rhythm of its own. I can’t stop the desperate plunges into my body, so I’m grudgingly thankful when Quinn’s hand closes over mine, freezes my thrusts. Thankful, but only for a second. Because my desperation is unchained.

“No…”

His sinful mouth releases my nipple, and he spears me with a silver gaze full of wicked promise. “You don’t say no to me, Elly. Remember?”

I swallow hard and stare back at him, biting my lip to keep from begging like a pathetic creature. When he waits, silent, for my consent, I finally nod. “Yes.”

“Good. Put that delicious finger in my mouth. I want a taste.” He takes his hand away and rocks back on his heels.

My body shakes with the denial of the climax I crave more than my next breath. But against every clamoring instinct, I pull out and hold my soaked finger against his mouth.

He breathes me in for a long second, the color scouring the tops of his sculpted cheeks telling their own story of the rigid control he’s exercising over his own need.

Slowly, he parts his lips, sucks me hot and hard into his mouth, and at the same time sinks two fingers deep inside me. I scream. I come. Hard.

“Yes. Oh God, yes!”

He absorbs every twitch and jerk while he sucks my finger and finger-fucks my pussy. I roll in wave after wave of endless pleasure.

The moment my body begins to quiet, he releases my finger and tips the last mouthful of wine between my breasts.

“Quinn!”

He lunges after the dark red stream, licking his way down my belly to my sex. He sucks both diamond and clit into his mouth and the sensation is like nothing I’ve every felt before. With his fingers sliding in and out of me, I’m sent on another bone-melting trip. He devours my orgasm, and when he straightens, his face is a taut mask of barely restrained arousal.

“Take me out,” he rasps in a gravel-rough voice.

God. Yes. Finally. I want to weep with relief. But I don’t have time for it as my fingers fumble for his fly. Somehow, I manage to push down his pants and boxers just as he withdraws his fingers from me and licks it clean of wine and my essence. He falls, hot and heavy and oh-so-hard into my palm, and I can’t help but pump his power through my fingers.

His hands glide over my hips to clutch my ass, and he drags me to the very edge of the table. “Are you ready to feel everything I dreamed of doing to you last year, Elly?”

“More than. Show me, please, Mr. Blackwood.”

The words barely leave my lips before I’m yanked forward and impaled on his steel-hard cock. My scream is louder than before.

His grunt shakes both our bodies. “Holy fuck!”

He holds me completely still while his cock beats a glorious, terrible tattoo inside me. With the floodgates of my orgasms seemingly open, I feel another climax claw through my bloodstream.

And Quinn feels it. “Jesus. You’re unbelievable.” The words are gasped from his soul as he pulls me closer and grinds his pelvis deeper into me until I’m poised in that exquisite, delirious place between pleasure and pain.

“You do it to me. Always. Take me, Quinn. I’m yours.”