Becoming Adrian's Slút (2)
I should not want this.
I tell myself that as I sit here, but my body betrays me. My nípples ache beneath the thin fabric of my bra, and I feel the wet pull between my thighs with every shift in the chair. I have worked for years to craft the image of a woman who is untouchable, disciplined, entirely professional. And yet here I am in Adrian Blackwood’s house, trembling because I want him to strip me bare and f**k me like it is his right.
I know the truth. I want to get laid by him. I have wanted it since the first time I caught him staring at me across the boardroom table, his dark eyes raking my body in a way that was both calculated and primal.
Now he sits across from me, glass of scotch in his hand, watching me like prey he has already decided to devou
