Interesting. I lean back in my chair. “Are you asking me to pay this?”
Her back straightens. “No. I’m not here to ask you for money. I already sent this to the supplier, but they won’t budge. I was hoping you could look at the contract and see if there’s anything there we can use. I’m apparently much worse at reading legalese than I am at the numbers.”
“Is that what this is?” I nod at the stack of papers.
“Yeah.”
I pull the papers toward me. “Let me take a look.”
Ten minutes later, I have no choice but to deliver bad news. “There’s nothing in the contract that will help.”
Her face falls.
“But I know this supplier. The owner is Gino Ferraro’s cousin. We’re invited to have dinner with the don at his house next week.”
“We are? Since when?”
“Since a few days ago. I’d like you to join.”
Her eyes light up. “Okay. I can talk to him about this then.”
“Good idea.” I glance back at the business model. “The six-month projection looks good, but I think there are some problems with your long-term view.”
“There are?” She stands up and comes to my side of the desk.
“Take a look.” I toggle to the correct sheet and walk her through my logic.
She bends at the waist and reaches for my laptop. I catch a whiff of her floral shampoo.
“Hmm.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “It’s possible I used the wrong numbers for the cost per square meter. I guess that should go down the more fabric we buy.”
I lean back in my chair and glance at her ass. Her skirt’s ridden up, nearly high enough for me to see her panties. My hand twitches. I’ve given her space after she fled from me that time in bed.
Be patient. Let her come to you.
But she did come to me, didn’t she? She’s here, late at night, the house empty.
“Do you think I should decrease it by ten or twenty percent?” she asks.
She might push me away if I touch her. But I need to fucking touch her. I lift my hand and wrap my palm around the back of her thigh.
She sucks in a low breath. I wait. Give her time to adjust or to shove my hand off her the way she’s done so many times before.
But seconds pass, and she doesn’t.
This emboldens me. I move my fingers in a light caress against the inside of her thigh. “I think fifteen is a good guess.”
Goosebumps erupt over her flesh. She types in the new number. “Done.” Her voice is hoarse. “Any other feedback?”
“You should probably increase your marketing expenses in Q4.” I inch my hand higher, stopping when I reach the edge of her panties. “Once you pay off the debts, you’ll want to double down on growth.”
“Okay.”
Slowly, I start to move the tips of my fingers back and forth along the edge of her underwear. Her skin is so soft and warm here.
Her elegant throat bobs. “By how much?”
I shift in the chair, my cock straining against the fabric of my slacks. She still hasn’t pulled away, so I go farther. To the damp lace fabric covering her pussy. To the valley that molds to her slit. She gasps and squirms against my hand.
“Ten percent.” My voice drops an octave lower. The lace grows more and more wet with every swipe of my thumb.
She’s frazzled now. She mistypes the numbers, deletes them, types them in again. Her hands are shaking.
“I think I need to—”
I increase my pressure, and she chokes on her words.
“Need what?” I slide a finger under the lace.
A satisfied groan rumbles inside my chest. Drenched. My wife is fucking drenched for me.
“I should increase the he-headcount.” She’s panting now. “We’ll need to hire someone to help with the marketing.” The sentence comes out in one breath.
Her wetness coats my digits, and there’s so much of it. My dick weeps at the thought of sliding through all this wet, warm heat.
I draw a circle around her clit. “Good idea.”
With a shaking hand, she adjusts the numbers and then slams the laptop shut. A puff of air escapes past her lips, and she lets her head fall forward.
Slowly, I rise out of my chair, brush her hair over her shoulder, and bring my lips close to her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”
The air fills with the sound of her heavy breathing. Anticipation tightens inside my gut.
She swallows. “No.”
I press a kiss to the side of her neck, my body buzzing with triumph. “Good girl.” She whimpers. “I’m going to feast on you, tesoro. You’ve kept me so fucking starved.”
I roll my chair until it’s directly behind her, sit down, and lift her skirt.
I groan.
Red lace panties stretched over a firm, round ass. So fucking perfect. I hook a finger around the fabric and pull it aside to examine her.
Fuck me. Her cunt is dripping down her inner thighs, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. That pussy is made to be eaten.
I shove the panties down her legs and make her step out of them.
“Put your elbows on the desk.”
She’s trembling, but she does as she’s told. Her perfect, glistening cunt is right where I want it—in front of my face.
I wrap my hands around her legs and pull my chair closer, and then I spread her open. Gently, I run the pad of my thumb over her little asshole, and then I dip it inside her folds. So tight and warm. I lean in and drag my tongue over her wetness.
“Oh God,” she moans.
Her taste floods my senses. Fuck, I’ve waited for this for so long, and it’s somehow even better than I imagined. I lap at her, pushing her thighs apart, pushing my tongue deep inside of her, pushing all her fucking reservations out of her body with every slow swipe.
“You taste so fucking good,” I growl against her as I push a finger inside of her.
A shiver runs through her. She’s strangely quiet, with the exception of her throaty moans. I have to remind myself that this is new to her.
Right?
I pull away from her, and she whines at the loss of my tongue.
“How many men have done this to you?”
“What?” She glances at me over her shoulder, her cheeks red and her eyes hooded.
“How. Many. Before. Me?”
She huffs a disbelieving breath. “Rafe, right now?”
“Tell me.”
She tugs on her bottom lip. “A few.”
Possessiveness cuts through my haze of lust. “After I make you come, you will write down their names.”
She holds my gaze. “Why?”
“So I can kill them all.”
Her wetness gushes over my hand. I look down. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” I curl my finger inside her.
She gasps. “Shut up.”
“They ever make you this wet?”
Her brow arches. “They never took a break to chitchat, so at least they had that going for them.”
This smartass. “You’re going to pay for that.” Before she can bite back some snappy retort, I pull my finger out and run my tongue over her.