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"You believe in God?"
"I do now that I've met his most perfect piece of creation," Vigo murmured, his brain firing rapid synapses of admiration and arousal. It wasn't just her body calling to him—it was her sharp wit, her relentless drive. The way she matched him, challenge for challenge, only made him more certain.
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"In the chair. Now."
She did as she was told. She climbed on, hiking her skirt up in the process.
He did not need further prompting. He unbuckled his pants and climbed on top of her. Their lips met in a collision of need and recognition. It was a kiss that spoke of shared ambition and mutual understanding, a fusion of their intellectual camaraderie and newfound physical desire. He savored the taste of victory and anticipation mingled on her tongue.
He reveled in the way she matched his passion, stride for stride, an equal in every sense. Her fingers played at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He responded by exploring the contours of her body, his hands mapping the territory, familiarizing himself with the blueprint of her perfect form.
The crinkle of a condom wrapper mixed in with their heavy breathing. He lined himself up with her core, feeling the trembling and twitches at her entrance. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
"Vigo," she gasped out as he entered her.
"Say my name again," he demanded.
"Vigo," she obliged, the word a moan of pleasure.
The sound of it from her lips stoked the fire within him. He entered her in one thrust, and she welcomed him all the way to the hilt. Mathematically, two whole people did not equal one. But the two of them joined together multiplied the intensity of their connection, creating an equation where the sum of their shared passion exceeded the individual parts. They were no longer just two people; they were a singular force of combined desire and emotion, where each touch, each breath, each beat of their hearts added another layer to their intimate unity.
CHAPTER7
TANYA
The moment Vigo entered her, the girth of him, the length of him, stunned her. The reins of her control snapped as he filled her and she loosened the tight hold over herself. With him nestled deep inside of her, her lips parted in a gasp. Vigo seized that opportunity to capture her mouth in a searing kiss that stole her breath, leaving Tanya wholly invaded.
Tanya was no slouch in the bedroom. As Vigo had undressed, she'd made a plan to mount and ride him until she'd reached her pleasure. Yet somehow, she'd wound up beneath him with the genius wrapping his long, capable fingers in her hair as though her tresses were the reins. He tugged hard, causing her to rear up into him as he plunged impossibly deeper into her body.
She obeyed his commands. Her hips moved against his with a fervor that matched her relentless drive in the boardroom. Every part of her being was accustomed to taking charge, to steering the course of any interaction. But she yielded to his skill, to his drive, to his passion.
As he rode her, stroking his delicious length into her core, something shifted within Tanya. Vigo's touch, commanding and yet gentle, stirred a different response in her. His hands, confident and guiding, cradled her face, and she found herself unexpectedly yielding to the sensation. It was unfamiliar territory for her, this surrender. But it wasn't frightening—it was liberating.
She didn't need to direct every moment with him. She could let go, even if just for now. Her body relaxed, her arms winding around him, not with a need to control, but with a desire to explore this newfound vulnerability. His kisses, once met with equal intensity, now coaxed her into a softer, more receptive state.
As she let herself be carried by the ebb and flow of their embrace, Tanya's usual rigidity began to melt away. In its place, a sense of peace and exhilaration mingled. Here, in Vigo's hold, she was not the CEO, not the control freak; she was simply Tanya, a woman discovering the sweet surrender of trust in someone else's lead.
Her breathing deepened in sync with his, and every calculated thought that typically raced through her mind quieted. All that remained was the sensation of Vigo's lips on hers, the pressure of his hands in her hair, the rough thrusting of his cock that pounded into just the right spot, and the thrilling realization that letting go didn't mean losing herself, but rather finding a new dimension of her being.
Tanya found an unexpected harmony between control and surrender, a balance she hadn't known she craved. And as her orgasm rose from deep within her core, she found herself relaxing into Vigo's embrace. As the pulsations wracked her body, she allowed herself to be pulled under while she remained safe and secure beneath him. She let him hold her as she relinquished control and still felt utterly, wonderfully whole.
When she came down, she was buzzing with sensation. No. That was the vibrator in Vigo's hand.
His lips curled into a smile. But there was no humor in it—just a shared understanding of the precipice they were teetering on. His free hand traced the contours of her body with a reverence that made her nerves sizzle. This wasn’t about data or efficiency; this was human connection in its most primal form.
"Ready for round two?" Vigo's voice was a low rumble, vibrating through her very core.
"Round two?"
"Perfection requires iteration."
The purr of the vibrator filled the space between them, a promise wrapped in silicone and circuits. As Vigo deftly navigated the controls, Tanya couldn’t help but marvel at how his expertise with machinery translated into a mastery over her senses. She was still coming down from the first orgasm, but she was greedy for another with her second favorite toy. Vigo had surpassed his creation and taken first place.
He was still hard inside her as he placed the vibrator on her clit. Tanya gasped, head thrown back as the sensation spiraled. She clawed at his shoulders, grounding herself in the solid reality of muscle and sinew beneath her fingers. The sterile air of the lab mingled with the scent of their desire, forming a heady mix that drove her higher.
"Vigo," she moaned, her voice breaking with the intensity of the moment. It was more than a plea; it was an acknowledgment of the walls crumbling between them.
