Page 19 of Tempting Tessa

Her breath catches as I caress her swollen, punished flesh with surprising tenderness.

“You may have been bad,” I tell her, leaning down until my lips are inches from hers, “but you’re my bad little stellina.”

Something flickers in her eyes—confusion at my sudden shift, maybe, or relief. I don’t care which one it is. All I care about is the way she melts into my touch when I stroke her cheek.

“That’s it,” I encourage, rubbing my thumb gently across her clit, making her hips buck. “Such a perfect response. So sensitive.”

I pick up the vibrator, still slick with her juices, and examine it with newfound respect. “Your toy gets my seal of approval,” I tell her, setting it carefully back in its box. “High quality. Effective. Maybe too effective.”

I step back from her, giving her space to breathe, to recover. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she tries to regain her composure.

She blinks, reality crashing back as she looks down at her exposed pussy, then at my soaked clothes. A deep blush spreads across her cheeks.

“Did I...?” She can’t even finish the sentence.

“Squirt all over me?” I smirk, looking down at my ruined suit. “Yes. First time?”

She nods, looking mortified and fascinated all at once.

“Good. I like being your first.” I turn away, giving her privacy to sort herself out while I walk to the small bathroom attached to my office. “I’ll be right back. Don’t run off.”

In the bathroom, I strip off my wet shirt and grab the spare I keep hanging on the back of the door. As I change, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are wild, my hair mussed from where her fingers grabbed it without me even noticing.

I look fucking feral for her, because of her, and that’s better than any drug.

Chapter 6

Contessa

Holy fucking shit. Did I just squirt all over him?

I’m still shaking, my thighs trembling as I slide off the leather chair I’ve been stuck to. The leather makes an obscene peeling sound against my ass, and there’s a wet spot beneath me that I’m trying hard not to look at. My pussy throbs—swollen, sensitive, and still pulsing with aftershocks from the most intense orgasm of my life.

I run my fingers over my sex, wincing at how tender it feels from his spanking. What the actual fuck just happened? And why did I like it so much?

I tug my skirt down, trying to reclaim some dignity while scanning the floor for my panties. They’re somewhere under his desk, and there’s no way I’m crawling around to find them while he could walk in any second.

My mind is racing, spiraling into a fucking tornado of confusion. I design sex toys for a living. I’ve had good orgasms before. Great ones, even. But nothing—absolutely nothing—has ever made me lose control like that.

“It was just the toy,” I whisper to myself, knowing it’s bullshit. The vibrator is my design, yes, but it’s not what made me squirt like a fucking fountain all over Matteo’s expensive suit. It was him. His voice, his control, the way he slapped my pussy when I came without permission.

Permission. Since when do I need a man’s permission to cum? Since when do I want it?

I hear the bathroom door open and freeze, my heart hammering against my ribs. Matteo emerges in a fresh shirt, his hair slightly damp at the temples where he must have splashed water on his face. He looks composed, powerful, and entirely too pleased with himself.

“Looking for these?” He dangles my black lace panties from one finger, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Give them back,” I demand, but my voice comes out raspy and weak.

“Come get them.” His eyes challenge me, daring me to approach him.

I stay rooted to the spot, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I am. My pussy is bare under my skirt, still wet, still aching for more despite the intense orgasm I just had. What is wrong with me?

“Shy now?” he asks, taking a step toward me. “After what we just did?”

“We didn’t do anything,” I say quickly. “You…tested my product. That’s all.”

He laughs, the sound rich and knowing. “Is that what we’re calling it? Testing the product?” He moves closer, my panties still dangling from his finger. “Then I’d say your product exceeded expectations. Made quite an impression.”