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Our eyes locked, and the world seemed to narrow down to the charged connection between us. Time stood still until I felt the warmth of his body against mine, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping me. It smelled of cinnamon and cloves, smoke and leather and all the things that a man was supposed to smell like. It was a heady aroma, and I found myself teetering on the edge of something unknown.
What is happening right now?
He reached out and his fingers threaded around my throat, only just grazing against my skin, and a fiery blast of desire rattled through me in an instant. I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d never been with a man. I’d hardly even dated, but right now my body was simmering with an unhinged kind of heat that I barely even recognized.
His presence was electrifying, and I found myself surrendering to a desire that defied any reasonable sort of logic. In that charged moment, our eyes communicated a language of longing and connection that words couldn’t capture, and I held my breath.
As if drawn in by an irresistible force, Murtagh leaned down, closing the remaining distance between us. The world around us blurred, and the anticipation between us hung thick in the air. And then, with a gentle yet soul-igniting intensity, his lips met mine.
He kissed me.
At first, the kiss was gentle enough to steal my breath away as his body molded around mine.
As the kiss went on, however, it turned harder, rougher, punishing even, and I yelped, but he swallowed the sound.
His strong arms circled around me, pulling me closer as if the world outside had ceased to exist. I felt the forcefulness of his kiss, a commanding presence that left me breathless and bewildered, and there was nothing for me to do other than give in.
In that moment, I was caught in a whirlwind of sensations, each conflicting with the other. The punishing nature of the kiss left me both vulnerable and exhilarated. My heart raced, the echo of the yelp mingling with the thunderous rhythm of the storm of desire circling inside of me.
When he finally pulled away, my lips ached. I drew my fingers up to my mouth, touching where his had just been. Tingles of pleasure pulsed through me, all stemming from his touch.
“You taste as good as you smell, little thief,” he purred, and the sound made my core squeeze tighter with building heat.
Maybe I could get out of all of this by using my body. I could have sworn he had looked interested since the interview, and now after that kiss, I couldn’t ignore that anymore. He was most definitely into me, and I could use that against him.
Maybe.
His fingers wound around the back of my neck as I gazed up into his jade-green eyes. They were soft, contemplative even, and I hazarded a smile.
“As pretty as you are freshly kissed, I think you’re going to be absolutely radiant once you’ve been properly punished,” he said softly, and it took several seconds for what he said to truly sink in.
What? Punished? With what, a slap on the wrist, a dock of my pay?
He’d already said I wouldn’t get fired, which was probably a bad decision on his part, but who was I to judge? If he wanted to keep me on after this, that was on him, not on me.
His hold on the back of my neck tightened suddenly, and he spun me around, swiped his arm across the desk to clear it, and bent me over it so quickly that I didn’t even have a chance to fight back against him. Instead, I was staring straight down at the polished grain of the wood before I knew what was happening.
It was only after I was held down in place that I had the forethought to even make a sound of protest.
“What are you doing?” I finally managed.
“You tried to steal from me, Zazie. I can’t let that go unpunished, so now I’m going to teach you that there are painful consequences to your actions,” he warned, and I stiffened, my mind racing to try to figure out what was going on.
“What do you mean? Are you going to fuck me?” I squeaked, my voice coming out quite a tad higher than I meant it to.
“If you take your spanking like a good girl, I just might.”
I froze.
So much to unpack there. I checked my brain to make sure I heard that right, but it seemed like it had short-circuited. I didn’t know what to address first.
Wait, no. I did.
“Spanking?”
I’d never been spanked before. My parents were long-dead, and now I lived with my elderly grandmother who, although she could scold me into anything and would wake me up with ice-cold water, wouldn’t lift a finger to swat a fly.
“Yes, naughty girl. I think a good dose of my hand will teach you what happens to little thieves who try to steal from me,” he threatened, and I shrieked, using my hands to push up against the desk. I only got about an inch of clearance before his palm pushed me back down into place with ease, like I was nothing more than a mouse caught in his trap.
