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“W-what?” I stammer, the heat in my cheeks quickly blazing its way south and pooling between my legs.
His stoic expression doesn’t waver, and his eyes don’t leave mine as he speaks. “If the answer is no, I won’t bring it up again, but I can’t keep trying to decipher your mixed signals.”
I’m frozen, every cell in my body alight with something unknown. Desire? Fear? Embarrassment? I can’t figure it out, but it only grows stronger the longer his eyes bore through me.
I realize this is what I’ve wanted all night: for the elephant in the room to be addressed and to find out how Alessandro feels about me. Unfortunately, he’s beaten me to the punch. Not only that, but he hasn’t told me what I’m most dying to know: doeshewant his knot inme?
Is that why he’s asking?
We’re at an impasse, neither of us moving an inch. If I say yes, how will he respond?
The impending answer weighs like a boulder on my shoulders, and my chest feels like it will burst if I don’t hurry up and spit it out, though I might die from embarrassment first.
He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for my response, and I open my mouth just to shut it again, the words not wanting to form.
Yes, it’s what I want.
It’s all I’ve been able to think about since staying over at his house, but admitting it out loud feels huge, bigger than I expected it would.
I thought it would come easy, especially considering how much I’ve beaten around the bush tonight, but my emotions are shutting me down, fighting against my desire. It’s an internal battle between wanting to confess and fearing the repercussions.
Alessandro isn’t giving any hints as to which answer he’d rather I give, which only makes things worse. He’s carved from stone, emotionless. If I had any idea as to how he feels, I might feel more confident about my answer.
As it stands, I’m terrified, and my fingers begin to tremble.
You got yourself into this mess, Jessa, so you might as well come clean about it.
My breath shakes on the way out and I clear my throat, hoping it’ll dislodge whatever feels stuck there. “Yes.”
The singular word hangs in the air between us, multiplying the tension in the room as neither of us moves. Blood pounds in my ears, and my pussy clenches at the thought of having it filled with a swollen knot, but I don’t dare move or say anything else.
Not until Alessandro does.
His jaw flexes, and I can see the wheels behind his eyes turning, contemplating. Is he debating the best way to let me down? Wondering if he should fire me?
My nerves can’t stand the wait, and I shift nervously in the seat.
“Are you sure?” His voice is even lower now, sending a vibrating chill down my back, and I nod.
“Yes.”
He pushes himself off the desk and steps forward, stopping right in front of my chair. My eyes slowly drift down his form, lingering on the swollen bulge in the front of his pants, and my stomach squirms. I look back up in time to see him reach for me, grabbing my wrists and hauling me up to my feet.
I gasp, surprised by the sudden physical contact, and before I can ask him what he thinks he’s doing with his hands on me, his lips are pressed against mine.
Time stands still as he pulls me into his arms, and I struggle against the swell of conflicted emotions clouding my mind: a mix of elation and shock, sprinkled with an egregious amount of lust.
My eyes flutter closed, and my brain struggles to catch up to the way my body reacts. He kisses me slow and deep, his hands sliding delicately down my back and palming my ass. Pulling me into him so I can feel the firm outline of his erection against my stomach, he deepens our kiss, and I groan into his mouth.
There’s no time for words, and I probably couldn’t string a sentence together if he asked me to. Instead, he whirls me around so my ass presses against the side of the desk. In a hasty motion, he breaks our kiss and swipes an arm across the desktop, shoving papers and files out of the way, sending them tumbling toward the floor before pressing me back onto the hard surface and finding my mouth with his again.
My heated core throbs painfully as Alessandro presses me onto the desk with his body, his fingers teasing the hem of my shirt.
“Alessandro,” I whisper, rocking my hips up to meet him, desperate for friction against my swollen clit.
He kisses around my neck, lips dragging across my throat and dipping lower toward my collarbone. I keep my fingers out of his hair, not wanting to mess it up before we head back to the dining room. Instead, I lock my arms around his neck as I slowly lose my grip on logic.
I want him to tear my pants off and bury himself inside me, to fuck me mercilessly on his desk while everyone outside wonders why we’re talking so long. The diners closest to the office might hear my screams and pants and moans, but I don’t care, not when every inch of me is begging for Alessandro to claim me.
