This investigation is getting into my head, under my skin, something has to be done about it. I need to release some of the tension before I grind my teeth into oblivion all night.

Dominic wants to see me, and it’s a good thing, because I need him.

I need him to take control for an hour or two. I need him to reduce me to a bundle of lust-soaked nerves, because when I come out on the other side, my mind will be settled, my mind will be at ease, and then maybe I can figure out what the hell is knotted at the center of this theft. It should be easy. It should be open and shut. This was going to be my big moment of triumph, my big break, but—

I follow Dominic into the lobby of his penthouse. The moment I cross the threshold, my shoulders relax in spite of the thoughts rattling around in my brain, and I hear him let out a big breath like he’s been holding it in all afternoon. We were both quiet in the car, watching the blocks roll by, but now we’re here, and I’m so, so ready.

He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me in close, nuzzling his chin into the side of my neck, and all of me melts into him.

“It’s been a long day,” he murmurs in my ear.

I twist in his grasp, putting my arms around his neck. “Are you too tired? Do you want to lie down for a while?”

A wicked look comes into his eyes. “Lie down with you?” He drops his voice a touch, and I know there’s going to be no rest until he’s thoroughly finished with me.

Which is how I want it.

He leans down slowly, edging toward me, his hands tightening around my waist, and I breathe in his clean, manly scent. The core of me goes hot, my pussy is wet already, and I wonder why we didn’t get started in the car.

It doesn’t matter. We’re here now.

His lips make the softest, gentlest contact, like we’re kissing for the very first time, and it makes me tilt back in his arms, groaning out loud. “Dominic—”

“What?” He pulls back, eyes dancing.

“Don’t tease me.” I meant to say it in a haughty tone, but instead it comes out as more of a plea. “I’m—”

He pulls me back into him, and I feel his erection pressing against my hips. “You need something more.”

“Yes…”

“You need something harder.”

“I—” My throat goes tight with how much I need it. I’ve never thought of myself as the kind of woman who needs a man to take her in hand in the bedroom, but right now, with the pressure of my job bearing down on me, the fact that I can’t share it all with Dominic, I have to have it. I have to have him.

He turns me in his arms, pinning my hands behind my back with one of his, and he reaches around, roughly taking my breast in his other. I arch back against him, my head thrown back against his shoulder. Through the fabric of my dress, he pinches at my nipple, sending a spike of pain and pleasure down the line from my navel to my pussy.

He doesn’t ask me what I want another time. He doesn’t ask me what I need. He growls into my ear, “Be a good girl.” The part of my mind that’s obsessed with the investigation shuts down, and all I can do is hear his voice, respond to his orders with an increasingly wet pussy and a trembling core. “Bedroom. Now.”

He releases me, and I lead him to the bedroom. “Strip.”

I do.

Then he gestures toward a large ottoman in front of his fireplace. “All fours, ass high.” The air is cool between my legs, and a trickle of wetness runs down the inside of my thighs. While Dominic strips off his jacket, shirt, and tie, I go to the ottoman, only hesitating a fraction of an instant before I kneel on it, bending down into exactly the position he’s asking for, private spaces exposed, breasts down on the smooth fabric, holding tight to the edges.

He runs a hand down my back, the other gliding between my spread legs, and I open up for him a little more as his fingers dance on my wet folds and slide inside.

“Mhmm,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You’re ready.” He dips three fingers in and I take in a breath, sighing it out. Oh, God, I need this.

Dominic strokes and rubs, circling my clit with his fingertips, until I’m a trembling puddle on the ottoman. Then, a gentle pressure on the small of my back, and his other hand slides up, spreading my ass.

My entire body tenses. “Dominic—”

“Are you mine?”

My heart is pounding. “Yes…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes…” This second one comes out as a whisper.

“Then relax for me, sweet thing.”

I force myself to relax as he spreads me again, slowly, taking his time, and then drags the pad of one finger down from the cleft in my cheeks, down one agonizing inch at a time, down and down, until he presses it firmly against my crinkled hole. I’m flooded with shame, but more than that, I’m swimming in desire.

“Relax.”

Dominic removes the finger and sucks it into his mouth, then replaces it against my hole. “Relax…” He repeats, and then he increases the pressure, working his finger against my resistance until finally it pops in.

I cry out, and he presses his hand against my lower back again. “How does it feel, sweet thing?”

“It—I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” He works his finger in and out, pressing it a little deeper with every movement. It feels thick, it feels big, but it doesn’t necessarily feel bad, even though my face is scarlet and my knuckles are white where they’re clenching the sides of the ottoman. Dominic works until it’s all the way in. “Good girl.”

A gush of wetness gives me away, and he lets out a short laugh.

“Don’t move.”

I hold as still as I can while he crosses the room. A drawer opens, then closes, and the next sensation to wash over me is a cool liquid against my hole.

“Oh—”

“Relax.” This time, his voice is as commanding as it’s ever been, and I press my lips together and obey.

Then there’s something thicker than his fingers at my hole, and his hand is on my back.

“You’re mine,” he says, and then he presses it in, presses it slowly, presses it absolutely relentlessly. I have no choice but to open for it, to let it in, and I don’t recognize the sounds I’m making. “Good girl,” he says, pushing it in a final inch, and I feel my asshole close around a narrower section of it.

“Oh, God, it’s huge.”

He leans down, threading his fingers through my hair, and turns my face to him. His eyes are fiery, piercing, and then his mouth is on mine, he’s pulling me up and away from the ottoman, carrying me to the bed. Spreading me out. Thrusting inside me. I suck in a breath of him, bite down on his shoulder, wrap my legs around him—and I’m gone, lost in a crashing wave of desire and release, all the worry erased from my mind.