The loss of her warmth breaks a quiet whine from me as she pulls away from my core. Untangling my fingers from her hair, I look down to see her blushed face and swollen lips smeared with my arousal. Everything about this erotic scene is now burned into my memory forever.

  Her thighs tense together as she seeks a shred of relief, driving me insane. "Do you need something, Miss Richter?" I ask.

  Moaning, she rocks herself forward like she did while sitting on my lap. "What do you need?" I taunt. We both know that I'm well aware of what she needs. I just want to hear her ask for it.

  "I need to come," she whines.

  I push my chair back and free her from the small space. "Sit that sexy ass on my desk and tell me what gets you off."

  I may be satisfied, but I am desperate to give her the same experience.

  Scrambling to her feet, she scoots over the edge of my desk and leans back. I lift her dress with a sinful smirk, admiring her nearly bare mound apart from the fair strip of hair over the center. Her lips part as she sucks a sharp breath between her teeth while I dance my fingers over her soft thighs. "I prefer clitoral stimulation over penetrative," she rasps.

  "Mhm," I agree. Her grinding habit told me as much. "Tell me something that I don't already know, bunny."

  Her core clenches as I say the pet name I gave her, and that gives me one hint to what she likes. "I like dirty talk," she says as her cheeks pinken. "You know, the dominating kind with praise."

  Another thing I could have assumed, but I don't call her on it. I would rather see it in action and give her the same pleasure she gave me.

  "Open that sweet pussy for me. I want to see how messy eating my cunt made you," I demand.

  Shifting her legs further, she drags her hand slowly, torturously, to her glistening slit before spreading herself apart. "Like this?" she asks innocently with a flutter of her lashes.

  "Just. Like. That." I drag my hands up her thighs, following the same path as her until I reach her core. "Look at how wet you are," I coo. Wet is an understatement. She's soaked just from touching me, tasting me. I smirk, continuing with her preference for praise in mind. "All from playing with your boss's cunt. From fucking me so well with your sweet tongue."

  I graze my fingers over her engorged pink hood, enamored by her response to chase my fingers by lifting her hips. I repeat the motion, adding more pressure until I hear her moan. Dipping a finger into her pussy, I coax more of her arousal to leak before pulling out and bringing it to my mouth. I would be lying if I said she tasted like anything I have ever had before, yet somehow, I know the taste all too well: my next bad habit. "Anastasia—"

  Her eyes are glassy as she watches me suck my finger clean. I enjoy having her attention far more than I expected I would. Removing my finger from my mouth, I sigh. "I knew it."

  "Knew what?"

  Licking my lips, I lean closer. "That you taste as sweet as you look."

  I give her a moment's breath before I dive in, licking and sucking as much of her arousal from her soft mound before focusing my efforts on her protruding hood.

  "Oh fuck," she moans, gently thrusting her hips. "Don't stop—I'm going to come."

  Now what kind of woman would I be if I didn't give in to her plea?

  I probe my tongue against her pulsing nerve before sucking it between my lips. Her sweet release coats my tongue while my name falls from her lips. It takes everything in me to not smirk against her pussy, giving away how smug I am overhearing her in ecstasy.

  I swipe my tongue over her twice more before placing a kiss on her sensitive flesh. "So damn sweet." I sigh as I pull away, giving both of us a moment to compose ourselves.

  This connection we just shared is something I have never experienced with another person. Sure, I have always maintained a give what you get mentality in the bedroom, but I have yet to feel this.

  "Since we're still here," she sighs softly, breaking me from my thoughts, "should we finish sorting those surveys?"

  Smiling, I nod. "That would be great. I think we'll make quick work of it now."

  "Yes, ma'am." She winks.

  Is it too soon to want to go another round?

  Chapter eleven

  Monday, February 10 th, 2025

  Traffic on Monday mornings should be illegal.

  "You're quiet this morning," Izzy says as she flicks the blinker and merges out of traffic. "I haven't seen you home at a decent hour the last few days, either."

  As close as we are for siblings, I don't need her to know that I was daydreaming about Anastasia and the orgasms she gave me. Avoiding her stare, I opt to look out the window instead. "Huh—Oh, I'm just thinking about what I need to do when I get to the office," I mumble.

  "Is working with Cupid going well?" she asks over the sound of honking horns.

  Leave it to Chicago to be up and at it this early in the morning.

  I sink into my seat, ignoring the heat that radiates over my cheeks. "Yu–p." I add a little umph to the word. Hopefully it's enough to appease her. Out of all my sisters, Isabelle would be the one to tell if I'm acting differently.

  I suppose that's what happens when you work in private security for nearly a decade.

  "Good," she breathes. Turning down the street, we're stopped by a long line of unmoving cars. Irritation claws at me from the inside out with each minute that passes thanks to the ill-timed traffic jam. I pick at my nails to calm my nerves, not caring that Izzy can hear me. Clearing her throat, she asks, "Are you willing to make a break for it?"

  I scrunch my nose at the idea of running in the February cold in a pair of heeled boots, but if I sit in the car, I'll both be late and have to deal with Izzy asking questions that I would rather leave unanswered. "Looks like I'll have to." I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door. "Thanks for the ride, Izzy," I say before slamming the door closed and running toward the sidewalk.

  I rush inside the lobby and soak in the warmth after nearly being bowled over by the icy wind. My cheeks prickle from the sudden temperature change as I walk to the elevator. I’m ready to start my day productively after Anastasia and I spent last night finishing Cupid's client surveys. "Looks like you survived the weekend," Britney clips from behind the receptionist's desk. Her bitter tone gives me pause that she seemingly takes as permission to continue. "With Ana, I meant."

  "We worked this weekend, yes," I say, minding the fact that I signed an NDA. Whatever Britney is insinuating, true or not, needs to be kept quiet. I understand that what Anastasia has proposed is unethical, but we're both consenting adults. We do what we have to do to ensure our safety.

  "We both know it wasn't just work," she scoffs.

  Clearing my throat, I respond with a professional tone. The one I reserve for the demanding clients I've had to navigate over the years. "I'm here to work, and speaking of such, I need to go before I'm late." I don't bother to wait for her retort—or insult. Instead, I continue my path to the elevator.

  Once inside, the ride up is faster than I'd hoped, but the shriek that filters in through the opening doors as I reach the top floor is enough to change my mind. "Nicolette!" Dawn shouts. "I could kiss you, you absolute sweetheart."

  I shake my head with a smile. "No need for drastic actions. All I did was clean up your desk a little last night."

  "A little?" she snorts. "You organized the whole dang thing."

  Okay, maybe she's right. Though, to be fair, once I started, I couldn't stop until it was perfect. "It wasn't just me." I wink.

  As I walk past the desk, a laugh slips from my lips when she shouts something about loving her boss. If I didn't already want to be here, Dawn would absolutely be a selling point to work at Cupid based on her personality alone. Rounding the corner cubicles, I shuffle to my desk and set my laptop down before removing my jacket.

  I blow a tired breath and knock on Anastasia's door. My fist barely meets the door when her voice rings out. "Come in."

  I follow her instruction, stepping into her office. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust when the small lamp on her desk turns on, casting a warm glow over her. Like a moth to a flame, it draws my attention straight to her face. She's beautiful in a way that I know I can't and won't resist. I both admire her and want her in ways that will only destroy me, though destruction by Anastasia Graves sounds like the perfect way to go.

  "Good morning, Ms. Graves," I say, closing the door behind me.

  Her pupils dilate the moment she looks over her monitor, roaming her eyes down my body. "Good morning, indeed, Miss Richter."

  "Is there anything I can help you with this morning?" I smile as I smooth the wrinkles over my simple, beige, sweater-dress.

  "You can help me by finding a new wardrobe," she mumbles.

  My face burns from her comment. A flood of anxiety crashes through me realizing that Claire was actually right about my attire for once. "I-I checked the employee handbook...this dress doesn't violate any—"

  "You are too sexy for your own good." Licking her lips, she gives me a devious smirk. "I meant no harm, only a compliment. Your outfit is within company guidelines," she says.

  "Oh," I deflate, pleased to hear that I haven't broken a company rule. "In that case, thank you—ma'am."

  With a shake of her head, she waves me off teasingly. "You're going to be the reason I never get anything done around here. Get out of my office before I find myself between your legs again."

  A throb of lust pulses in my core at the memory of me sprawled on her desk while she sank her tongue into me. Smiling, I take a step backwards and reach for the door handle. "I wouldn't say no to doing that again," I tease.

  Before she has the opportunity to respond, I open the door and make my exit as my heart beats rapidly in my chest. Turning around, my heart skips a beat as I take in Dawn sitting at my desk wearing a knowing grin. "I came over to say thank you again, but I didn't want to interrupt your morning meeting."

  "You could have—you didn't have to," I sputter.

  "Uh-huh." She winks, and that tells me all I need to know. "Is she available to talk right now or will I have to book a meeting with her?"

  I glance at Anastasia's door, mentally debating if I should keep her on task or let Dawn through. I know she is busy, but I can tell that Dawn means a great deal to her as a friend. "You should go talk to her. I'm sure she can multi-task work and chit-chat."

  "I knew it," she sings, slowly lifting herself from my chair while cradling her baby bump. "You're one of the good ones, Nicolette Richter."

  Ready to start on today's tasks, I situate myself at my desk. A notification reminder pops up on my laptop screen reminding me that Anastasia and I are due to meet with Cameron and the Noble brothers this afternoon. The goal is to gently ease them together. Given Cameron's initial reluctance, it's important that this arrangement be as genuine as possible. I can't pretend to be an expert in polyamory, and I certainly have no idea what it means to be someone as famous as Cameron, but I can tell when someone needs a push to go after what they want. Being the youngest of five sisters, I've seen it all. I believe with Anastasia's expertise and a firm hand, Cameron will find exactly what she's looking for.

  With a sigh, I open my company emails to see a few of Anastasia's vendors have reached out to confirm services needed for this Friday. I scroll to Lillian's email, taking note that she sent several images of flowers and color palettes for Anastasia's approval. I click on the forward icon, sending the email back to Anastasia for review. The next email loads from Chicago Network asking for an interview with Anastasia for their Valentine's Day special.

  My teeth scrape against my bottom lip as I press the forward icon again, noting that I need to talk to Anastasia about these types of inquiries and which ones to decline on her behalf. Time escapes me as I dive further into each email, responding and forwarding when necessary. As I close out of the company inbox, a blinking message notification appears.

  GravesAnastasia: Please send the sorted survey files, bunny.

  RichterNicolettePA: Already sent.

  GravesAnastasia: Already sent, what?

  My thighs clench as I imagine Anastasia's firm, teasing tone whispering the command in my ear. Goosebumps rise over my arms and travel to my chest. Everything about her is a fantasy I hadn't realized I wanted—until she put me under her desk and let me devour her, while I waited needy and desperate for relief.

  RichterNicolettePA: Already sent, ma'am.

  GravesAnastasia: Come to my office.

  I stand from my chair, moving quickly to her door and knock once before letting myself in. "Lock the door," she commands as she closes her blinds before returning to her desk. Turning the lock, the sound of my blood whooshes in my ears. "Good girl."

  Like Pavlov’s dog, I salivate over her praise. "You wanted to see me?" I'm breathless, and we both can hear it. Nerves take flight in my stomach. We're playing a dangerous game on the clock, but I want it. I want her.

  Her smile is devilish, a challenge against the risk. "I need some assistance with finding those files."

  "Of course." I smile shakily, rounding her desk to see that her screen is black.

  "You should sit down." She pulls me onto her lap, her breasts press flush against my back. A gasp works from my mouth as her soft lips meet my neck. "Can you be quiet for me, bunny?" she asks as her hands slide to the front of my dress, cupping my breasts through the material.

  Nodding, I relax against her and will my heart to slow its rapid beating. Her hands squeeze lightly, massaging each breast before teasing my sensitive buds against the lacey fabric of my bra until they stiffen. I can't stop my legs from tensing as my wetness seeps from between my slit, slick against my inner thighs. "I am going to reward you," she says, flicking her tongue over my neck, "but only if you find those files for me."

  I press my finger on the power button and I feel her lips curve against my neck. Her hands leave my chest and slide down my stomach until she reaches between my legs. My lashes flutter against my will as she slips a finger between my pussy and softly rubs my swelling clit.

  "Anastasia." I breathe her name like it's the answer to all of my prayers.

  The screen loads quickly, allowing me to select the company software where everyone can sign in to their emails. Autofill saves me the trouble of asking for her login, allowing me access quickly. "Do you hear how wet your sweet pussy is?" she asks.

  Between her dirty talk and the sounds coming from my body, a moan is pulled from deep within me. I can't stay quiet. "Oh God—"

  "I thought you said you could be quiet. Do I have to cover your mouth?" Her words draw me closer to the edge, bucking against her hand. I bite my lip to stay quiet as I click the email I sent her this morning that contains the files. "There it is," she coos. Her hot breath tickles against my neck as she slips a second finger into me. Scissoring her fingers open and closed, she whispers her praise. "You are such a good girl for me, bunny. You found the files quickly, and your pretty cunt takes my fingers so fucking well."

  A whimper breaks through my lips, prompting her to gently cover my mouth with her free hand before pulling my head back to rest on her shoulder. Slowly, I roll my hips to meet her thrusting fingers. It's intoxicating, the desire we have for each other—the dynamic set in our professional positions. One thrust. Two thrusts. Three. That's all it takes to push me over the edge. I let myself fall undone, trusting her to hold me afloat until I resurface to reality.

  "Are you okay?" she asks, lifting her hand from my mouth before pushing the chair back, allowing me space from the desk.

  Am I okay? I think I just had the best orgasm of my life.

  Leaning forward, I bite my lip as her fingers slip from my core. "Mhm," I hum.

  "Good." Patting my thigh, she sighs. "Feel free to clean yourself up in my bathroom. We have a little time before the meeting with Cameron and her matches."

  Heat blankets my face at the reminder that we're on the clock and in her office. Standing from her lap, I smooth my skirt down. Let's just hope neither of us has left a stain on our clothes.

  Chapter twelve

  I wait for Nicolette to close the door before standing from my chair and leaning over my desk. My office is hot, or maybe it's my skin. Either way, I'm desperate to claw it from my body. Something about this—with Nicolette—is different. It's just sex, Ana. Get it together. Sighing, I lower my head to my desk, hoping to cool my heated body. I need my focus set on Cameron, Knox, and Jax. Given their status in the entertainment industry, they need my focus.

  "Ms. Graves?" Nicolette asks quietly.

  My long hair creates a curtain over my face, hiding the flush burning over my cheeks. "Yes, Miss Richter?" My words come out thicker than I anticipated, stirring the simmering throb in my core.

  "Are you okay?" Her sweet voice flits past my ear, like a gentle kiss from a lover, reminding me of her soft lips on mine when I kissed her.

  Clearing my throat, I brush the hair from my face. "Yes, I am. I was just—" The words die on my tongue as my eyes focus on her flushed face. My heart thumps harder as I watch her bite her lip, pulling it in before releasing it.

  "Do you need…anything?" I hear the break in her voice, the uncertainty, and I don't like it. Not one bit.

  "Come here."

  She moves slowly around my desk until she returns to my side, her stare holding mine, bringing a smirk to my lips. I reach my hand out, tucking her soft, honey waves behind her ear. "Do not think for a second that I don't want something from you right now. I do, but I am aware of our time constraints," I whisper softly.

  Her cheeks flush brighter as she licks her lips. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Sweet bunny." I smile, tracing her jaw with my finger. I'm never going to grow tired of hearing her obedience. It's addictive. She's addictive. "Let's get to the conference room before Cameron and the Noble brothers arrive."

  I reach for her hand, entangling our fingers as I grab the manilla folders from my desk with my free hand, before leading us to the door. I can't explain why I did it or why it feels so right, and I can't find it in me to care. At least, not while we are in the safety of my office, away from prying eyes. Not only do I have to protect myself, but I want—no, I need—to protect Nicolette, as well. Her reputation is just as much on the line as mine is, maybe even more so than myself. If anyone were to hear of our arrangement, they would inevitably choose her as their target.

 

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