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In two strides, I close the distance between us and push her down into the seat. She looks up at me, her eyes a turbulent mix of emotions. Bracing two hands on the chair’s arms, I bracket her in, letting her feel the full weight of the moment, the uncertainty of what I might do next. Then, slowly, I position two of my fingers on the pulse point at her neck, sensing the rapid beat beneath my touch.
“Explain yourself,” I command softly. “If you lie, I’ll know it by the speed of your pulse.”
She bites her lip, her chest rising and falling noticeably. My gaze drops, snagging on her delicate throat. Slowly, my eyes continue their descent, until… Jesus. Those tits were nearly my undoing last night. How I would love to suck her nipples until she cried out my name and begged me to slide my dick inside?—
“You didn’t come home with me last night,” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper. "After everything with the mayor and how you touched me.” She swallows, pulling my attention to her mouth and her delicate throat. And the steady thump of her pulse under my fingertips. “I ... I was feeling jealous, and I wanted to find out who she is—your mistress.”
I bark out a laugh. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
She licks her lips. “Yes.”
“One, you’ve made it clear you’d rather I fuck anyone but you. Two, the thump of your pulse” — I drag the pad of my finger over her lower neck, smiling to myself when she shivers — “suggests you’re lying.”
“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s full of shit!” Like the defiant little brat she is, she wears her venom on her sleeve. She tries to push me away, but I grab her hands, restraining her delicate wrists with one of my much larger hands. “There is no way in hell that feeling my pulse is an effective lie detector.”
Restless lust simmers under my skin like an itch just out of reach. “It's not,” I admit, “but it was fun to pretend."
She softens her features and attempts a conciliatory tone. “Let's forget about this. Your office wasn’t locked, and your computer literally has no passwords. Obviously, you're not concerned about privacy, so I assumed there was nothing here you were trying to hide.”
I smirk at her naïveté. This computer is a showpiece. It’s where I play solitaire, schedule squash games. This sanitized, harmless machine is what they’ll seize if there’s ever an investigation into the country’s billionaires. I’m confident Kira didn’t learn anything of importance, but she was certainly after something.
“I have my reasons, and none of them concern you. What should concern you is how I’m going to extract the truth from you.”
“And what will you do?” Her voice is throaty. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was excitement in her eyes rather than fear.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” I release her hands and place my two fingers back on her pulse point.
Fuck. My wife likes this game we’re playing.
She lifts her head, and I don’t miss her half-lidded gaze, nor the way her nipples have hardened to peaks beneath her thin robe.
My cock throbs in response. “One more chance to tell the truth, lastochka.”
She glares back. “I’ll take the punishment.”
“That’s not an option.”
She blinks up at me as the tip of her pink tongue dances out of her mouth to wet her parted lips.
Fuck me, there’s only so much a man can take, especially when that sexy mouth is level with my crotch.
“Get up.” I wrench her up by her hair, and God help me, instead of a cry it elicits a little moan. How did she go from shooting me death looks this morning to practically wrapping her lips around my dick?
A sudden thought surfaces—she's using sex to distract me. She knows I'm weak for her. After last night, the whole city knows I’m weak for her. I can't believe I fell into her trap, but now I'm in dangerous territory. She’s a liar, and instead of throwing her in the dungeon, I’d rather teach her a lesson on her knees.
Hand still wrapped around her silky strands, I force in a deep lungful of air. “Last chance to come clean,” I rasp, not bothering to hide my arousal pressing tightly against her.
Perhaps we have a different definition of coming clean. Because Kira rises to her tiptoes, parts her lush mouth, and drags her tongue over my lips.
"Kira," I growl in warning, our breaths mingling.
She’s manipulating me, but that realization isn’t enough for me to stop this. Not when my need for her is seeping out of my pores.
She's about to speak, but I know the only words to come from her will be lies so I don’t let her talk.
My thumb hooks into her mouth, and I pull her lower lip down with a sensual tug. “You don’t get it, do you? This mouth is the fucking bane of my existence. Not only because it’s always sassing me but because it’s so fucking sexy. I’ve had detailed fantasies about plundering it with my tongue, my cock, even my fingers…”
I slide my thumb between her lips—she twirls her tongue around it, drawing it in deeply. A low groan escapes me, followed by a sharp "Fuck!" as I press my arousal against her. Delicious tension builds, and although one of us should be the responsible adult, it won't be me. I'm beyond saving. The brief taste of her in the limo only fueled my desire.
