Mike’s grip tightened on Cynthia’s waist, pressing her against him, his breath hot against her skin.
“Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his thumb across her swollen lips. “So damn beautiful.”
Cynthia’s chest rose and fell rapidly. She hated how her body betrayed her, how her breath hitched at his touch, how her core clenched with need despite the anger burning inside her.
She wanted to shove him away, to run, but her legs felt weak.
“Mike…” Her voice wavered. “We can’t—”
“We already are,” he cut in, his tone smug, his fingers sliding up her bare thigh.
Her ruined chiffon gown lay in tatters on the office floor, her lace bra discarded beside it. She stood in nothing but her panties, her skin flushed and sensitive from his rough hands exploring her.
Mike’s mouth descended to her nec
