Of course I want to take her to my penthouse and take her until she’s senseless with pleasure. Of course I forced myself not to react when she begged me to punish her—but it was those words that told me we’re on another level.

Vivienne Davis can’t resist me, and my hands on her body unlock something within her I can guarantee she hasn’t surrendered to anyone else. That was one of her deepest fantasies, one she would never admit out loud, and I heard it directly from her lips.

Deep down inside, Vivienne Davis—despite what she might say in the light of day, despite how confident and independent she is, despite everything—is desperate for someone to take control, at least in the bedroom. She needs it so badly, I can taste it in the air stirring around her. And now that I know it for sure…

It’s time to play.

She’s bewildered when I get out of the car and help her out, her face red and hot, her body trembling, and her breath coming fast in her throat.

“Not now?”

Her deep green eyes are wide, her lips puffy from my attention, and her face is a picture of disbelief. I lean down and kiss her cheek, the way I did in the restaurant, then I put my hand under her arm and steer her toward the entrance to her building. “Not now.”

“But—” I stop, face her, and put my finger over her mouth.

“No, no,” I murmur, leaning to speak directly into her ear, feeling her body shiver underneath my touch. “Not yet, sweet thing.” Another shiver. “Do you think I’m going to rush through the anticipation? No—I wouldn’t do that.”

She groans softly. “Dominic, I—”

“Be a good girl,” I say softly into her ear. I’m taking a chance on this—for some women, it’s a turnoff, but for others—

Vivienne trembles, harder than before. That’s the reaction I was hoping for. She leans into me a little bit more, and I can feel the hope pulsing underneath the surface of her skin.

“Be a good girl, and I’ll make it so worth it.”

She opens her mouth one more time to argue, and then thinks better of it, a little frown playing over her face. I put a finger underneath her chin and lift it until she’s looking directly into my eyes.

“I promise.”

“Okay.” The word is a whisper that’s almost swallowed up in the July breeze.

“I’ll see you soon.”

I act like it’s nothing to stop touching her, like it’s nothing to walk away from her, and I don’t look back.

She stands frozen on the sidewalk until the Audi disappears from sight. I lean back against the headrest and try to ignore the painful erection that’s about to burst out of my pants, letting myself dissolve into the delicious anticipation that I’ve set in motion.

For the first time in weeks, the world seems brighter, seems suffused with a new energy, and it’s all because of Vivienne. I don’t see her on Tuesday morning, and still, the knowledge that she’s down on the eighth floor, walking and breathing, wearing the glittering diamond I sent to her around her neck, is putting me in a fantastic mood.

The one thing I didn’t ask for was her phone number, and that will come with time. I’m not going to look it up—I’ll wait until we’re at that special point—because the fact that we have to use other means of contacting each other makes this even sexier.

Judging by the expression on her face when I drove away last night, I’m going to be on her mind—probably about as much as she’s been on my mind, which is nonstop and can’t even be cured by four rounds of jacking off in the shower between last night and this morning and a mind-numbing, hour-long workout at the gym.

Exchanging phone numbers comes sooner than I thought, however. Around lunch time, my private cell buzzes in my pocket, and I slide it out before I’ve put the next bite of steak into my mouth. The message is from an unfamiliar number, but as soon as I read the text, I know it’s from her.

I wanted to call you last night, but I didn’t have your number.

I can almost hear her saying it in the same low voice that she adopts when she’s very, very turned on.

How did you get it this morning, sweet thing?

She’d never be able to send this from any kind of work phone, so I know it’s relatively secure.

My new boss gave me a list of essentials in case of emergency…

Overhiser. He’s never been one of my favorites, but he does his job well enough that firing him would be more of a hassle than it’s worth. He’ll age out sooner or later and retire to the Bahamas, and that will be the end of that.

This is an emergency, is it? :)

Some parts of me think so.

Which parts?

There’s a long pause, and I decide to end it before she loses her nerve.

Be a good girl and tell me what has you so bothered.

Those are the magic words, and I know it’s only for times like these—times when we’re “alone,” when we’re in that sphere where the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I know it instinctively. Vivienne has her sights set on a thriving career, but she has a dirty little fantasy that can play out in the secret spaces.

My pussy aches for you.

My cock is already rock-hard, but it gets impossibly harder. I adjust it in my pants and glance out the door to Emily’s desk. Still empty.

Is the waiting too much for you?

No. I can handle it!

I think you’re lying to me, sweet thing.

I would never lie to you.

She doesn’t hesitate to send that message, which makes me think it’s absolutely true.

Be patient.

It’s hard.

So am I.

I want you…

I want you, Vivienne.

Have me.

Not now…

Cruel.

I’m not cruel. I’ll prove it to you.

How?

There’s a gift coming to your desk in the next two hours. Don’t open it at the office. Take it home and follow the instructions.

The entire plan comes to me as I write out the text, a grin spreading across my face. Then I send a second follow-up text on its heels.

Will you be a good girl?

Yes…

Tell me.

I’ll be a good girl.

Get back to work and wait for your gift.

She doesn’t answer.

She’s gone back to work.

I click out of the text messaging app and dial a number, my heart pumping in my chest. I’ve got her all wound up.

She’s going to love the release.

And I’m going to love imagining what she looks like as she does.