I climbed the stairs two at a time, loosening my tie. It had been a long day. But this was the part I looked forward to.
Coming home to her.
My office door was open.
I edged forward, taking her in.
She’d ridden and drained me before I left for work this morning, patting my shoulder like I was her personal fucktoy. I hadn’t had time to address her insolence then—but tonight? I had all the time in the world.
She was curled up in my leather chair like she owned the damn place. Legs tucked beneath her. A book open on her lap. One of my Montblanc pens in her hand—clicking it absently as she read. The sleeves of her sweater shoved up to her elbows. Her hair pinned up in that messy way she liked, wild strands sticking out like a crooked little crown.
My sexy little fucktoy.
Her presence was a beautiful disruption. She didn’t belong in a boardroom or behind some soulless desk. She belonged here—filling my space, stealing my focus, making herself impossible to ignore.
And she didn’t even notice me watching her.
It was time to remind her who owned her.
Chapter 14
Everly
It took everything in me not to look up from my book. Silas must’ve thought I was deaf if he believed I hadn’t heard him rush up the stairs like a man possessed. But this was the game we played—he stalked, I ignored.
And even when I lost, I still won.
He moved in, and I glanced up.
“Silas,” I breathed his name.
He still looked exactly as he had when I first started noticing him growing up—always in a sharp suit, hair smoothed back, the weight of authority clinging to him like cologne. He’d shaved the stubble since returning to the office, but it was those ice-blue eyes—cold, cutting, such a stark contrast to the richness of his dark hair—that undid me every time.
I’d latched onto him before I even understood what fixation was. Since I was old enough to notice the way women looked at him. Tall. Powerful. Always in control. He was everything my mother didn’t deserve.
And now, after three weeks under his roof?
The infatuation hadn’t faded. It had mutated. Deepened. Turned into something darker. Possessive.
“Are you finished?” he asked, nodding to my open laptop.
“Yes,” I said, biting back a smile.
He was still sore about this morning—waking up to me joyriding his cock like I had nowhere else to be. He’d had an early call with some stiff across the globe and had warned me.
Slow down, he’d growled.
But I didn’t. I rode him until his hands fisted the sheets and he spilled inside me, my breasts bouncing against his face as I milked him dry.
“How was the office, dear?” I asked sweetly, setting my book down.
“Boring,” he said, casually setting his leather laptop bag on the desk.
“What did you get up to?”
“I missed you,” I said with an exaggerated pout. “Had to make use of my vibrator by lunchtime.”
A bold lie. I’d barely looked away from my screen—I’d been working nonstop just so I could finish early… for this.
