I shudder against the smooth wood of my desk from his accent as he leans in closer, the heat of him radiating like a furnace. His strong hands slide beneath my thighs, hoisting my legs higher as he plants soft, teasing kisses along the tattoos on my calves with his full, wet lips. The juxtaposition of his gentle touch and the delicious tension in the room sends my heart into a fucking frenzy.
“I see you, you know,” he says softly, his lips meeting the sensitive skin behind my knees. “Everything you try to hide—your pain, your fears. But you don’t need to hide from me. I want you bare, in every sense of the word, mí Chiquita hermosa.”
My breath hitches as he moves up, trailing kisses along my inner thighs, each one igniting a fire deep within me that just fans the flames even more. It’s not just his dominant nature but the intimacy behind it that sets me ablaze. It echoes what we are—a chaotic blend of need and vulnerability, of past scars longing for healing in each other’s embrace.
Meaning we're both fucked up.
I dart my fingers through his short, dark hair, pulling him closer, and urging him to continue. “Michael…” I whisper, teasing him as the tension builds, a yearning I can't fully comprehend.
“Shh…” He silences me with an expert flick of his tongue against my skin.
I lose myself in the haze of pleasure mixed with dizziness, letting go a little more with every second. As he continues toexplore my body, I find not just the chemistry we’ve sparked but also a connection. But I know deep down it'll never work. He needs to stay at an arms length like the rest of them. Hunter has more leeway with me since we've known each other long and have been through more together than they have.
In the depths of my mind, the looming shadows of consequence hover like a stalker—tall, dark, mysterious, and waiting to fucking pounce when the moment finally shatters. But with every kiss, every teasing brush of his warm, olive skin against mine, I find myself more willing to slide down this dangerous path.
“Are you with me?” he asks, his hot breath sending shockwaves through me. I can feel my pulse quickening as I look into those intense, green eyes.
“Yes," I breathe, holding his gaze steady, knowing exactly what I’m signing up for.
“Good,” he smirks, determination lacing his features. “Because tonight, we’re rewriting the rules.”
As he continues his teasing assault, I close my eyes, surrendering to the moment and losing myself in the twisted, forbidden dance we’re creating—a dance that will lead us both into the depths of the unknown, where nothing is quite what it seems, but everything feels so fucking right.
As Michael's lips glide against my skin, I feel the tug of impending confusion pulling at my insides—a swirling cocktail of ecstasy and trepidation. I remind myself that everything about this moment is wrong, yet I can’t muster the strength to pull back. My body thrives on the danger, the raw connection, and the exhilarating chaos that follows. The chaos makes the noises in my head quiet. The thrill makes the shadows on the walls less noticeable. The danger makes the twisted thoughts not as bad.
“Touching you like this feels so fucking good,” he murmurs, eyes alight with that familiar wild fire.
He places an open-mouthed kiss right where my thigh meets my hip, prompting a gasp to escape my lips. The sound of my breath fills the quiet room, tempting him further while my heart races at the thought of being discovered. But the world outside has never felt more distant. It's just our two fractured souls drawn together by bits and pieces of broken trust and lifelong trauma, longing for something we aren’t even sure how to fucking name.
“Michael, we can’t…”
“Can’t what?” he interrupts, lifting his head to meet my gaze, searching me rather than assuming anything. “What we have is real, even if it’s messy. I can feel it in the air between us.”
My fingers curl into the edges of the desk, grounding me amid the storm of emotions swirling within. I could argue that everything we were doing was reckless, that my clinical mind warns me of the disaster it could entail. But there’s another part of me—the darker, more insatiable part—that craves this chaos, craves him.
I bite my lip, contemplating my next words, but he closes the distance once again, his breath ghosting over my skin and igniting every nerve ending in my body.
“Just give in to it, hermosa,” he pleads softly, and I can’t ignore the way his voice wraps around my brain, turning my dark thoughts into feathers, light and floating.
He stands up straight, towering over me for a moment before he grabs both my ankles, pulling me closer to the edge of the desk. The shift in position sends a rush of vulnerability coursing through me, reinforcing the power dynamics pulsing in the room. There's something intoxicating in that—the thrill of him taking charge, steering me toward something raw and honest.
Deep down, I know there’s only a thin veil between therapy and whatever the hell we’re creating here, but right now, I don’t have the fucking willpower to stop it. I nod as his hands glide up my thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.
“I need you to trust me,” he murmurs, his voice filled with that commanding tone I’ve always found irresistible.
I don’t know why I do it. Perhaps it’s the vulnerability shining in those green depths that has me leaning into the unknown, or perhaps it’s the realization that I’ve been burying the truth of what I’ve been feeling since that first day in my office. But there’s freedom within this surrender, an unshackling that whispers sweet temptations into my ears like a spell.
“Then show me,” I murmur, and the moment the words leave my lips, there’s a rush of electricity, a push that ignites the air around us.
With a fierce, unrelenting grip, he pulls me closer until my knees dangle off the edge of the desk, my heart racing as he crowds my space. I gaze at him, contemplating the sheer enormity of everything that's happened. Time has been unfair as fuck, and so have the scars left behind by the men I once turned to for comfort. But the risk—God, the fucking risk sends desire surging through me.
“Michael,” I exhale, voice resolute but trembling at the edges.
“Good girl,” he replies, a grin breaking across his lips.
With one swift motion, he captures the back of my neck, his fingers digging in deeper than before, pulling me into him as he presses his mouth to mine, swallowing my gasps with hunger. His kiss is a breathtaking storm, keeping me on the edge of reality and fantasy, and my mind begins to spiral as I lean into the delicious madness he incites.
His hands roam over my body, igniting pathways of sensation that have remained dormant for so long. There’s something about this man whose quiet affections have the power todismantle everything I’ve fucking built up, shattering facades I know I should have kept intact.
