“Finally.” He sighed as she leaned in, gently licking his lip. He opened his mouth to her, intent on taking what he wanted. He licked back, battling for dominance. Usually, he won this fight easily, as women rarely pushed back against him. But Christina was nothing if not a challenge to the core, and she joined in on the battle, exploring his mouth with confidence.

At the end of the day, Matty knew it was all an act. She could pretend to be dominant all she liked—believe she was in charge. The fact of the matter was that he’d won, and it was a sweet victory. She’d tried to resist his charms, tried to deny her own desires, and had failed spectacularly at both.

He’d finally cracked her shell and been rewarded handsomely, with more prizes to follow. There really was a woman under all that. However cold, however mechanical, however orderly and straightforward she tried to be, at her core she was pure female. Sensual, passionate, tender, gleeful, giving, afraid. She’d done her very best to hide this from the world and from herself. But it was still under there, waiting for the right circumstances to break free.

She finally gave in, letting him into her mouth. His hands tightened at her waist and then slid up to her shoulders and neck. Then he reached down with a free hand and ran it up her thigh. She gasped with surprise and pleasure, and his lips smashed harder against her mouth.

She tasted divine. Sweet and mild, with a hint of berries from her lip balm and a hint of sugar from her soda cocktail. He knew that her perfectionism would extend to everything. No doubt her entire body, from head to toe, would smell and taste of berries, just like her lips did. He was eager to find out just how wonderfully delicious her pussy was, and he planned to find out what his name sounded like on her lips when she came undone with her legs wrapped around his head.

Breaking the kiss, he glanced at the table. The waiter had brought them their second round of drinks, but must’ve noticed their intimate moment and held off bringing appetizers.

“Why’d you stop?” Christina frowned.

“We’ll catch dinner tomorrow.” He pulled out his wallet and tossed a pile of notes on the table.

“What? Why?”

He raked his gaze up and down her body. “I have another menu in mind.”

She gave him a sternly disapproving look.

Not this shit again. “What is it now? You can't leave a meal that’s already been started?”

“You’re a slow learner, aren't you?”

He paused, running through the situation in his mind. He’d ceased kissing her to pay his bill and go home to fuck. He’d put the money on the table. He paused. “The money?” He made eye contact with her. “You want me to pay the exact bill?”

“And leave a tip for the server.”

“Perhaps whatever doesn't go toward the bill is the tip for the server?”

“Okay, how much are you tipping them?”

He sighed. “I thought we were leaving work behind for tonight?”

“I thought this was a business dinner, and you wanted to change your lifestyle and habits for good, not just during office hours.” Christina folded her arms over her chest. It pushed her breasts together right in front of Matty’s face. He found it hard to pull his gaze away from them.

There it was again. The coldness and attitude he was more familiar with. He’d started to wonder if the old Christina was still in there.

“Fine, I'll pay by card.” He put the notes back in his wallet, save a bill for the waiter. Damn, she was difficult.

But she did smile when he’d asked for the card reader and paid the precise amount he owed. In fact, she seemed almost satisfied. The way he felt when he managed to find the time to make a painting, or when he sealed a new deal. She probably looked just as he’d looked when she first kissed him. Seeing the world in order really was that important to her.

He’d met people who enjoyed order and balance before. But she seemed a far more extreme, convoluted version than he’d ever seen. In his experience, even a person who adored order would make some exception for the chaos that naturally surrounded him. But Christina did not. When he was acting as she expected him to, she was happy and loving. And when he was acting in a matter she didn’t care for, she reverted to robotic formality.

She was something else, she really was. She was such a tight ass, that disorder actively turned her off. Surely, once he’d fucked her properly, she’d loosen up. That had to be the issue.

After the bill was paid, they made their way swiftly back to his house, where he immediately led her upstairs.

Walking into the bedroom, she retained some of her confident defiance. He wasn't sure whether he loved it or hated it at this point. All he knew was that he wanted her naked in his bed, in the fewest steps possible. He loved the push and pull. But he wished she’d push a little less, and pull a little more, preferably on his cock.

He chuckled to himself and closed the door behind them. She remained erect, head high and proud. He wanted to sweep her off her feet and into the bed, to take her immediately. But he knew that wouldn't work. She wanted to dance the dance. She wanted him to seduce her.

Fortunately, for Matty Spencer, that came all too easily for him.

He walked up and unfastened her hair clip before she could protest. The crisp, sharp edge of her tightly bound hair broke, and locks of wavy brown cascaded down onto her shoulders and over her chest. They bounced and shimmered in the amber light of his lamps. The sleek, mechanical finish had been stripped away to reveal a soft sea of hair.

He looked at her lips. The sharp lines of her lipstick were initially resistant, but he’d begun to wear them down, and a light smudge appeared around the edges. He wanted to smear it. He wanted to erase that sharp red line entirely—do away with the harshness that surrounded her body and reveal the curvy, wild animal beneath the armor.

“Absolutely beautiful.” He made a slow circle around her and traced a line with his index finger over her collarbone, before slipping the dress from her shoulders. It caressed her curves as it fell, pooling at her feet in a pile of silky fabric. She flinched, as though it had hurt. As though by removing her makeup and dress he was actively cutting pieces off her body, bulldozing the walls of her very existence.

He continued kissing her, admiring the goosebumps rising all over her bronze, exposed skin. As each layer of her personality stripped away, she became more and more vulnerable under his hands, more and more receptive to his advances. It was all building up to the ultimate surrender, the culmination of their dance where he would possess her entirely.

Glancing down at her naked body for the first time, he was pleased to see how warm and inviting her soft brown skin was, in contrast to her sharp, pitch-black dress.

It was structured, but with a feminine edge. A delicate pink, with a white lace overlay. Her suspenders were a dusky pink, fading down into her slightly reddish stockings, the colors graduating in steps, down to the sharp red under her heels.

Releasing her from his grasp, he moved to the bed, ripping off his own shirt before sitting down and sliding his trousers off, all while keeping his gaze locked on her. She had a perfect hourglass figure, with a vertigo-inducing dip from the flare of her hips into the curve of her waist. Her thick, luxurious hair framed her face, and her breasts were high and firm. Her legs were toned, yet soft, gently compressed by the top of her stockings. She was so helpless, yet tried to remain proud. Such an intense rush of adrenaline coursed through Matty that a groan caught in his throat. He noticed bows at the top of her garters. She was like a little present, all wrapped up, begging to be devoured.

She delicately stepped out of her dress and followed him, black heels with red soles clacking sharply on the floor. He could see why she wore them. They demanded respect and represented authority. All the things Matty enjoyed defying. Their extreme height elevated the petite woman to challenge most men's stature. Their sleek lines and told him they were expensive. She didn’t need a man to support her. They screamed independence and control. And the rhythmic click said that she did not mind being seen, that her every movement was important, that she was worthy of attention and admiration. It was all an act. Matty knew she felt the same butterflies kicking in her stomach. How could she not?

It was in this moment he realized she truly was giving him a gift. She was showing her vulnerability. All that sweet, feminine tenderness was his to own and enjoy.

As she drew close enough to touch, he gripped her hips firmly, and dug his fingers into her soft, tender flesh. She let out a yelp of approval.

In one smooth motion, he turned and threw her down on the bed, forcing a gasp out of her. He climbed on top and slanted his mouth over hers. His growl landed on her lips. She tasted even better like this, helpless and naked. She bit his lip. Not angrily, or in rejection, but not softly and tenderly either.

If Matty knew one thing, it would be that Christina would not be running this show. He tasted copper on his tongue, and ran a hand down her thigh and yanked it up over his hip, giving him deeper access.

He pinned her wrists over her head and sucked down her neck.

“Holy shit.” Christina gasped.

He tasted the salty-sweet of her neckline and traced his tongue over her collarbone, before working his way back up to her ear. “I run the show now. Understood?”

She nodded with an eagerness he’d never seen from her.

He sucked down on her earlobe and clamped his teeth around it. “Good.”

Matty reared up slightly and watched her sink back into the silky red sheets. Her hair was loose and tangled, spreading out beneath her like a blanket. Her lipstick was smeared. He enjoyed her disheveled, out of order. It was how he planned to keep her. Her breasts threatened to escape from the top of her bra. She was breaking under him, and it sent a surge of epinephrine coursing through him. She wasn't a dominant robot woman anymore. He would tame this feisty woman and show her the night of her life.

With a quick, sweeping motion he grabbed both her wrists in one hand, and with his other, he palmed her breast and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She smirked defiantly and began to twist her arms, trying to break free. It was a pointless effort. Even if she’d been trying in earnest, a woman her size stood no chance against a man who no doubt weighed twice what she did. Even so, he slid his hand from her breast to her throat. A little move Matty enjoyed immensely.

She froze on the spot, her smirk fading to a meek smile as his hand ever so softly caressed her neck, squeezing lightly, teasingly. At any moment, they both knew he could bear down and cut off her air supply.

“I’m going to taste you.” He smothered her mouth with his, taking whatever he wanted with his tongue, before pulling away. “And then I’m going to fuck you.”

He grinned at her and she shuddered with anticipation. She nodded lightly against his grip.

“Good girl.”