I run a finger down the front of his shirt, waggling my eyebrows at him. “Hmmm, what’s the scenario then? Boss and subordinate? Professor and wayward student?”
Talon leans in, breath hot at my ear. “I want you to be my saucy secretary. The one who always ‘forgets’ to wear panties in front of her billionaire boss. I think you already have some experience with that.”
“I do,” I purr, then hike up my skirt to show him I’m already prepared. His eyes go hungry, and the next thing I know he’s on his knees, hands spreading my thighs, tongue flicking up the length of my slit. I arch against the desk, gasping, clutching at the smooth, cold surface with both hands as he devours me like he’s starved.
He takes his time, alternating between gentle licks and eager, greedy sucking until I’m squirming, so close I can taste the finish line. Then he stands, bending me forward, face pressed to the desk, ass in the air. I hear the rip of his fly, the sound of a condom wrapper, and then the head of his cock at my entrance.
He slides in slow, bottoming out with a groan. “You’re so tight, Kitten,” he murmurs, and the filthy satisfaction in his voice makes me clench even harder.
I buck back against him, desperate, my forehead pressed to the glass desktop as he fucks me deep and slow. “Harder,” I plead, “I want it hard.”
He delivers, grabbing my hips in both hands and pounding into me, desk shuddering beneath the force. I feel the edge building again, spiraling up with every slap of skin and sound of his voice.
“Open wider,” he commands, and I do, spreading my legs so far my thighs ache. “You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked by your boss?”
“Yes,” I gasp, and mean it with every atom.
He slides a hand down, circles my clit with rough fingers, and the orgasm hits like a freight train. I scream, high and raw, and Talon rides me through it, shoving deeper, filling me until I lose all sense of up or down.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
When he comes, he lets out a roar, slamming into me so hard the whole desk skids an inch across the floor. We collapse together, tangled and gasping, laughing and breathless and absolutely, perfectly ruined.
We stay there, draped over the desk, panting.
After a while, Talon shifts us to the couch, wraps me in his arms, and nuzzles the side of my face.
“Hey, Kitten,” he whispers. “Did you like that role-play?”
I giggle, nuzzling against his bronzed chest.
“I did, actually. The billionaire boss thing really turns me on. We should do that again.”
He chuckles, the vibrations coming from deep within his chest.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t all role-play actually. That thing about me being a billionaire? It’s real. I got the latest update from my accountant, and—well. You’re dating a man with nine zeroes in his bank account.”
I blink, astonished. “You’re a billionaire?” I whisper.
Talon nods and then winks.
“Angel’s Sharepushed me over the threshold. You are officially dating a man worth ten figures.”
I press my face into his neck, still giggling. “Yeah, but Talon, I don’t care if you’re broke or a billionaire. I just want you. My reclusive mountain man with the rough hands who knows how to handle an axe.”
“Good,” he says, and kisses me long and soft. “I’ll always be that for you, sweetheart.”
And in that moment—arms wrapped around the man I love, head buzzing with the promise of a glorious future—I know that I finally get to write my own happy ending.
EPILOGUE – BACK TO THE PROFESSOR AND HIS NAUGHTY STUDENT
KAT
Two years later.
The night air sparkles with snow, soft flakes pressing against the window in slow-motion huddles, and every corner of the cabin radiates that hush you get when the rest of the world is blanketed and sound can finally take the night off. The fire pops and cracks, spit-roasting the logs in the hearth and making the whole place glow. I’m curled on the deep leather couch, one leg folded under me, the other draped across Talon’s lap as he traces lazy circles on my knee, a glass of wine balanced expertly in his free hand.
We’re alone at the cabin this month, and it’s blissful to relax, chat, work, and eat in the company of my handsome mountain man. Talon’s wearing flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt that shows off his muscular physique. He hasn’t shaved in days, and the bristle on his jaw makes him look even more like a disreputable lumberjack. His blue eyes are fixed on me, and I get the feeling he’s counting the seconds, but pretending not to.
