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I shrug.
He stoops, rubbing his palms across my shoulders, down to my sides. Feeling what I’m wearing under my shirt, he undoes one button, then another, and another.
“Jesus, Amber-Rose,” he gasps. I bet he’s forgotten about that shower already.
His fingers fumble as he impatiently gets rid of my shirt, revealing my pink bustier. He squeezes my waist, and then without delay he loosens my jeans.
He sighs low. “My sweet God…”
Oh yeah, he loves my surprise.
He rubs my calves under my stockings, almost ritually, and then nuzzles his way in between my knees to kiss my inner thighs. His warm fingers fiddle at my garters, snapping the buttons open. His breathing escalates as he rolls my stockings down the length of my legs, watching my flesh springing out of the tight mesh—inch by inch.
Then, groaning, he hoists me and forces me to lie flat on the couch. His weight comes crashing down on me, his hard-on stretching his briefs, slapping my pelvis floor.
“What?” Rob eyeballs me suspiciously. Maybe at this stage he’s expecting wild moans and writhing.
I’ve never had sex in an office, let alone a billionaire’s office. But a couch is a couch. I know with Rob it would be amazing anywhere—it’s who you’re with that makes or breaks a moment. Butespeciallybecause I’m with Rob, I want to unleash the hell in him.
Today I’m seeking an adventure, one that will take us to our breaking points—a peak that shatters us, and when we wake up from it, the pieces will have bonded together so there are no longer him and me.
“Break me,” I beg him.
“I don’t intend to break your heart, Amber-Rose.”
“Not my heart.Me.”
The line between pain and pleasure is thick and hard. Only a man whom you trust with all your heart can erase that line.
Rob studies me, and I groan, “Do it where you’ve never done anyone before.”
“I’ve never made love to anyone here.”
I trail my finger along the elastic of his briefs, trying to rein in my eagerness to attack his bulge. “Give it to me rough, baby.”
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me up. “Are you sure?” His blue eyes turn fiery, but behind the flame, his benevolence remains.
This is the moment. Rob is the man who will erase the line between pain and pleasure, and make sure it remains erased.
“Yes,” I say adamantly.
“Did you bring protection?” he asks.
The question takes me by surprise. Last night on the boat, he magically had a condom in his hand. So he was serious when he said he’d never had sex with anyone else in his office.
“My bag,” I huff.
He takes out a foil pack and keeps it within his reach.
Obviously having thought of something, Rob pulls me up so I stand straight. He locks my wrists behind my back with just one hand, while his other is reaching out for a pair of ties in his office closet.
He jerks my hands, forcing me to tip backward, giving my shoulder blades a taste of his hard pecs. “Walk,” he commands, shoving me to stride toward a single-pole coat stand. It’s made of solid wood with four steel hooks at the top, and with its square shape, the pole looks more like a pillar. He pushes me so my back is flush against it, and then stretches my arms up, wrists still in his grip.
Suppressing a hiss, he loops a silk tie around my wrists tightly, and then uses the remaining length to secure my hands across a couple of hooks. The second tie soon comes into play. He inserts it between my lips, forcing them to part, and then bands it around my mouth—my teeth clamp on it, and my tongue curls behind the gag.
Rob squares his shoulders.
Goddamn!
