Page 10 of Possessive Mr. Pen

I gasp when he hits a sensitive spot.He gentles his touch and grins.

I growl and press my other foot to his shoulder.He pierces my soul with a wicked smirk.I shove.

He doesn’t budge.Doesn’t falter.Doesn’t react at all.

Liquid desire floods my panties.I shake from the force of my need.

“Let go,” I manage through gritted teeth.

He gives my heel a final squeeze before closing his fist around my ankle.I fight the growing urgency in my blood as he caresses my calf and teases the back of my knee.

“Is that really what you want, Ms.Winthrop?”he murmurs.

Hunger floods my mouth and twists my tongue.

Unexpected tears swell behind my eyes and thicken my throat.

“This,” he gives my captured leg a gentle squeeze, “isn’t any different from all the times you cared for me throughout the years.You’ve been so good to me for so long.Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

I almost fall for his trap.I want what he offers so badly I consider giving in and joining him on the dark side, but his gold earrings reflect the bright overhead light and remind me not to fall for his villainous ways.

I jerk my leg out of his grasp and place both feet on the floor on the far side of his knee.

“This isnotthe same as me adjusting your tie or fixing your hair before a meeting.We can’t—”

He leans forward and props his palms on the couch, bracketing my hips and forcing me to sit back to avoid his touch.

“We can.We will.”

Fury rips through me.I shove his face away with both hands, knee his side, and lunge to my feet.The dress pinches my skin and constricts my movements, but I manage a few steps before my adrenaline fades enough for me to feel it.With my fists at my sides and my entire body throbbing like one big exposed nerve, I force my lungs to expand and meet his eyes over my shoulder.

“No, we won’t.You are my boss.I am your personal assistant.Do not cross the line again,” I demand.

I turn and stomp toward the hall, but before my toes cross over the rug and touch the hardwood floor, arms made of iron sweep my legs out from under me and lift me into the air.I squeak and clutch at Connor Pen’s shoulders, terror and shock vaulting me into panic.No one has ever dared to pick me up—I can’t even remember a time as a child when an adult held me in their arms—so the foreign sensation short-circuits my brain.Words spill from my lips.

“Put me down.I’m too heavy.You’re going to—”

He ignores me and strides down the hall toward the master suite with me cradled against his chest as though I weigh nothing.Emotions war within me as he settles me onto the edge of the bed and steps back.

Alarm spears through me when he unbuttons his suit coat and shrugs it off his shoulders.

“What are you—”

He drapes the fabric over his shoulder as he turns and stalks to the door.I hold my breath, both hoping for and dreading the moment he shuts the door and locks us inside the bedroom together.To be alone with this terrifyingly handsome man, to have his full attention on me, to writhe and gasp as he commands every inch of my body, is everything I want but the last thing I need.

He steps out into the hall and smirks in delight when my reaction escapes my control.

“You broke our agreement, Ms.Winthrop.”He shifts his grip on the door handle.Masculine pride gleams from his expression as I peel my gaze away from his hand.My clit throbs with want.

“We can take this at your pace, but you’re mine now, Hilary.There’s no escape for you.”

As he closes the door between us, his eager, demonic smirk embeds itself into the darkest, dirtiest recesses of my mind.

Several ragged breaths later, his words pierce through the fog of my lust.

Frustration boils deep in my chest.I grab a pillow and rear back to throw it at the shut door, think better of it, and bury my face in the softness instead.A short, forceful scream later, and I snatch my control back by sheer force of will.With faux calm on my features and exaggerated care in my movements, I fluff the pillow into its original place, rise, and lock myself in the bathroom.I remain stoic and unaffected as I shower and change into the set of casual work clothes I included with the suits and dresses.

Too tired to handle another altercation so soon, I move the few personal items from the clutch to my large designer work bag—because Connor Pen cannot let others see his personal assistant with anything second rate—and slip away before he emerges from the second bedroom.