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“I don’t know what you have been smoking or drinking or whatever, but I haven’t done a single thing to you.”
“You were born. You walked into my office. No, you waltzed into it, crushing every wall on its way. You fucking cockblocked me at every turn.”
My mouth is wide open, with my jaw planted somewhere on the floor.
“So, how are you going to pay for your rude interruption of my life Lexi? Huh?” Landon asks, adopting his Dark Angel mask. Seductive Dark Angel. I am momentarily stunned by how my name rolls off his tongue in that low, raspy tone. The anger seeping from him slowly turns into lust that ignites like scorching lava in those dark eyes. There’s wickedness in the way Landon watches me. A promise.
I am fucked. Aren’t I?
He’s trapping me with his cruelty whether I like it or no.
Ask me if I can do anything about it?
Ask me if I want to do anything about it?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing because all I feel right now is thrill and anticipation.
He is mere inches away from my face, and I see his tongue darting out, slowly licking the bottom lip. My eyes are glued to that lip, and I see it. I see what he intends to do next, but that second, my fight or flight kicks in, and I slam a hand over my own mouth as he pushes those devious lips toward mine.
Instead of my lips, he kisses the back of my hand, but that doesn’t faze him in the slightest. He opens his mouth and bites one of my fingers.
He freaking bites me.
Bites and pulled the said finger off my mouth with his teeth.
My hand slips down, and beneath it, my mouth hangs open.
There is no air, no sun, and moon. There are no other thoughts in my head except one.
Landon wants me.
Landon Locke wants me.
And he takes what he wants.
All I feel are his lips, his hands, his body, his power.
What now?
15
LANDON
Song: Jaymes Young – Don’t You Know
I’ve tried, God knows, I’ve tried to stay away from Alexandra, but would that infuriating, scorching hot woman let me?
Of course not.
Of course, she had to barge into my office like it was her God-given right.
Of course, she had to wear a leather dress today.
Of course, she had to smell like fucking vanilla, suffocating me, making me high, and overdosing on it.
And let’s not forget that my dick somehow decided that it would only get hard for her ass, for her sharp tongue, and for her petite body. Every time one of my pleasure givers stepped a foot near me, he dropped dead. D-E-A-D. Not even a twitch.
Over the past week, I have been on edge, my control slowly slipping away. The craving for her heightened, magnified and reaches altitudes so high that my every wall crumbled from its pressure. Despite telling myself that she is my assistant and thatI will not touch her, I have imagined her in all positions as my cock thrust and pounded into her silky softness.
