Page 118 of At His Beck & Call

His erection pushes between my legs, making me shudder.

“You’re mine, Lissa, do you hear me? To do with as I please, and if I want you to stay at my house, youstay where I put you.” His voice is wavering now, a snarl at the back of it that makes my whole body ache for him.

His lips brush mine, and I give a startled cry as he bites down on my lower lip before he thrusts his tongue inside my mouth.

His fingers run down the backs of my thighs as he lifts me up against the shelves, supporting my weight with the strength of his body. With short jabs of his hips, he rocks his cock into me as my legs open, wrapping around his waist, my shoes falling to the floor with a thud.

His mouth crushes against mine before he pulls away, biting at my neck, licking at it, scraping his teeth over my flesh. His tongue plunges into my mouth again as he groans, sucking at it,his hand moving to my thigh and beneath my skirt as he cups his palm between my legs.

I pant above him, utterly undone by the heat of his body.

He pulls back, spearing me with that pitch-black gaze as he shoves his cock so hard against me, my head falls back into the shelves with a thud.

“I told you at the beginning to never leave when you’re upset. Did you not hear me?”

I can’t speak, my whole body melting against him. Every piece of me wants to please him, to make the anger on his face fade forever.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe out, and he gives a little grunt of satisfaction.

“You’re damn right you are.”

One more thrust of his dick, and he lowers my feet back to the floor. The abrupt change makes me dizzy, and I hold onto the shelves to steady myself as he steps back, still looking at me, but now with a softer expression.

“We both made mistakes, and I intend to make it up to you tonight.”

“Tonight?” I ask as he straightens his clothes.

“Tonight. Seven o’clock. I’d like it if Henry came, too.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere fancy. What’s your favorite kind of food?”

I stare at him, not understanding. “You don’t have to do that?—”

“Iwantto,” he says darkly, interrupting me as a shiver runs up my back. “I fucked up, and I need to make it right.”

I stare at him, panting, my body throbbing for him, and he keeps his eyes on my face as he very deliberately smooths a hand over the front of his pants and adjusts himself.

“Will you let me do that, Lissa?” he asks, and I’m relieved to hear the softness return to his tone.

“Alright,” I murmur, and without another word, he walks back to his desk and sits down.

“Don’t ever walk away from me when you’re angry,” he says. “Or out of my house without telling me, for that matter. Ever again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, adding a touch of petulance to it as he looks at me, his eyes moving over my body one last time.

He bites the corner of his mouth and looks away for a moment. “Be ready at seven.”

I back toward the door, straightening my clothes while I stare at him, willing him to look at me again, but he doesn’t.

I open the door, still feeling just as confused as when I came in, and almost bump into Noah.

“Oh!” I say quickly, stepping back, a hand moving automatically to my hair. “Sorry, Noah.”

“Is Mr. Heath free?” he asks.

“Uh,” I turn and find Oliver’s dark stare pinned on me. I have to fight the shudder that threatens to run through me. He gives me a clipped nod. “Yes. Go right in.”