Page 14 of Tempting Tessa

“Excuse me?” I sit up straighter, heat flooding my face. “That’s not how this works.”

Matteo pushes off his desk and steps toward me, his movement fluid like a predator. In one smooth motion, he’s behind my chair, hands gripping the armrests, caging me in. His breath is hot against my ear, and I freeze, afraid to move.

“This is exactly how it works,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my earlobe. He’s so close I can smell his cologne. Something so masculine that it makes my thighs want to part on instinct.

“Back the hell up,” I say, but it comes out breathier than I intended.

He doesn’t move an inch. “Show me the prototypes.”

“I don’t have them with me.”

“Liar.” His eyes drop to my briefcase. “Open it.”

“No.”

“Open it,” he repeats, “or I’ll open it for you.”

We stare at each other, locked in a battle of wills before I finally cave.

“Fine.” I grab the briefcase, yanking it onto my lap. “You want to see? Here.”

I punch in the code and flip it open, revealing three sleek black boxes nestled in velvet. Each one contains a different prototype from my luxury line.

Matteo straightens, satisfaction rolling off him in waves. He reaches for the largest box, but I slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch without permission,” I snap. “Isn’t that what you are always preaching?”

His mouth curls into a dangerous smile. “You’re right. May I?”

I roll my eyes and hand him the box. “Be my guest.”

He opens it slowly, revealing a curved, matte black vibrator with gold accents. The design is elegant, almost like a piece of art. He lifts it, turning it over in his hands, examining every detail with those long fingers that I absolutely do not fantasize about.

“This is…impressive,” he admits, running his thumb over the controls. “High-quality silicone?”

“Medical grade. Body-safe, phthalate-free, and with a magnetic charging port that’s completely waterproof.”

“And the gold?”

“Twenty-four karat plating. The Contessa line doesn’t cut corners.”

He presses a button, and the vibrator hums to life, pulsing with a deep, rumbly vibration that can be felt across the room. My cheeks heat as I watch him test each setting, his expression contemplative.

“Seven speeds?”

“And three patterns,” I say, trying to keep my voice professional despite the fact that he’s holding a fucking sex toy I designed to make women orgasm their brains out.

He turns it off and places it back in the box with a care that makes my stomach flip. Then he reaches for the second box.

This one contains a smaller vibrator, designed for clitoral stimulation. It’s shaped like a teardrop, with the same matte black finish and gold accents. He examines it with the same meticulous attention, testing its weight in his palm.

“This one’s more discreet,” he notes, turning it on. The vibration is higher-pitched but just as powerful. “For public use?”

My face burns hotter. “For whatever the user wants.”

“Hmm.” He switches it off and returns it to its box, reaching for the third prototype.

This one’s my favorite—a sleek, almost ridged dildo with a slight curve designed to hit the G-spot perfectly. No vibration, just pure, elegant design. The base is weighted for optimal balance, with a suction cup for hands-free use. Perfect for fucking riding.