Page 68 of At His Beck & Call

She looks beautiful, as always, as she stands waiting for my instructions.

To my amazement, I don’t get a word out before she speaks first.

“I’m sorry about last time.”

I blink at her, dumbfounded by the statement. “What?”

“I forgot about your rule, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think, and it won’t happen again.”

A throb of heat pulses through my groin as I watch her fidget. If we were really together, I would tell her she deserved to be punished for it, lay her over my lap, and spank her behind. But that’s not somewhere we can go.

Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“It’s fine,” I bite out, stopping myself from reaching across the desk and dragging her into my lap.

“Either way, I’m sorry,” she insists. “Is everything okay?”

I frown at her. “What?” I ask stupidly again.

“I just wondered if you’re alright. You were at the hospital and…” she trails off as I glare at her.

I should be furious at her for breaking the boundaries of this room and asking me personal questions about my life. But then, wedidrun into each other outside of work. That’s hardly her fault.

In fact, it’s mine. I should never have approached her and her ex like that.

I clench my fists beneath my desk, thinking about that asshole. I hate the thought of him ever touching her.

“Henry asked about you when he woke up,” she says suddenly with a rueful smile. “I think he mainly wants to meet your dog, but he kept asking whether the ‘big man’ was coming back.”

My nails dig into my palm so hard I have to hold back a wince.

I don’t want to get to know you, Lissa. I don’t want your son to meet my fucking dog and I don’t want to get any more attached than I already am.

But the thought of that adorable little boy waking up and thinking of me stirs something deep in my chest, and even as I glare at her angrily, I’m touched by the sentiment.

“Are you going to take off your clothes, or do you need a break?” I ask, the tension clear in my voice as I fight to not blow my load before I’ve even touched her.

Whatever this thing is, it’s getting worse, and I’m beginning to think I’m no longer in control. I can’t have that. I need to get a handle on this.

Her cheeks flush beautifully, but I can tell my tone has shocked her. Her hands flutter in front of her as she searches for words, and despite knowing that this is all too soon, that I’m pushing things, and I should hold back and make sure she’s comfortable, I can’t do it.

Her pupils are blown wide now, her breath coming faster, and as I rise from my desk and walk toward her, she looks uncertain but not afraid.

“Are you firing me?” she whispers, and I stop, my hands coming up to pull the jacket from her shoulders as she gasps, letting me throw the thing to the floor.

“Not a fucking chance,” I growl as I lower my head to hers and crush my lips against her mouth, pulling her roughly against me as I lift her up to my hips. She has no choice but to wrap her legs around me as her mouth opens on a stifled gasp.

I push my tongue into her mouth, caressing her as she moans with a startled cry as her back hits the wall.

My fingers push beneath her skirt, taking hold of her underwear and wrenching them down. She hums into my mouth as I drag them to her ankles and then unzip my fly with practiced ease, keeping her balanced against the wall with my other hand.

“I think that’s enough small talk for one day,” I mutter, as she jolts in my arms, my cock already pressing at her entrance.

My fingers slide between her legs, awkward with the angle, but I smile as I feel how wet she is for me already.

“Have you been waiting for me, Lissa?” I murmur as she shudders, her head thrown back against the wall.

“Fuck,” she chokes out.