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“Only for you.”
He steals another kiss, deeper this time, while he traces my collarbone with his fingers, which always wreaks havoc on my panties.
“We discussed this before,” he continues, teasing me with his words and mouth. “There’s nothing perverted about it. I can work at my desk, and you can be my little cock warmer.”
I should be offended.
Any woman would be.
But when Hunter talks dirty like this, it only makes me want him more, so he keeps talking.
“You don’t think. You don’t speak. For those few hours, you’re on your knees like a good girl, licking my cock like a lollipop. Tending to it.” His thick voice in my ear makes me let out a whine, and I feel his chest rumble. “You just become mine for those few hours. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of everything. Your job is to exist for me.”
My core aches for him.
What kind of control does this man have over me? I think in dazed shock. My entire head is filled with visions of me on my knees, serving him, just like he said.
“Not today, however.” He chuckles lightly, and my cheeks flush in shame. “Today, I still need a manager.”
“You jerk!” I hit him again.
He roars with his amusement. His laughter is a low, soothing sound filled with wickedness.
“Good, you’re no longer crying.”
My hand automatically goes to my cheeks, and I realize they’re indeed dry. Even with a smile on his face, his eyes turn dark and dangerous.
“I don’t even like sharing your tears, Megan.” He swoops some of my stray hairs back into their ponytail. “Don’t ever waste your tears on a man who isn’t me.”
I blink, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“What?”
“You heard me. Not one more fucking tear.”
Chapter 37
You Overestimate Yourself
MEGAN
“Out of all the conversations we’ve ever had, this has got to be the most toxic.”
“Yes, well,” he studies me, unbothered. “Nothing I say should come as a surprise to you.”
I give him a long, judgmental look and one of introspection.
“I’m not going to sleep with you again,” I say as if I’ve just decided something profound.
“We’ll see about that.”
I glower at him, annoyed by his confidence.
“I mean it.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Maybe I should write it on my forehead in permanent marker so you remember,” I mutter under my breath.
