FORBIDDEN FLAMES REKINDLED

CHAPTER THREE- The First Fall

The lock clicked into place with the finality of a vow neither of them had spoken aloud.

Seth did not move immediately. He stood with his back to the door, watching Jane as though she might vanish if he blinked. The office was dim, lit only by the single desk lamp that cast long amber shadows across the ebony surface, the scattered sketches, the open laptop still glowing with Tokyo store renderings. Outside the glass wall, the city had become a sea of light: towers bleeding gold and white into the black January sky.

Jane felt every heartbeat in her throat.

She had not been touched with intention in years. Not like this. Not with someone who looked at her as though she were both sacrament and sin.

Seth pushed away from the door. Slow steps. Deliberate. The way a predator approaches something it has already decided belongs to it.

When he reached her he stopped just close enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

“Last chance,” he murmured. “Say the word and I unlock the door. We pretend this never happened. You go home. I stay late. Tomorrow we are professional. Polite. Safe.”

Jane’s lips parted. She tasted the ghost of his earlier kiss still lingering there: cinnamon, coffee, heat.

She shook her head once.

The motion was small. Definitive.

Seth exhaled through his nose, the sound rough.

Then he reached for her.

One hand cupped the side of her face, thumb tracing the delicate line of her cheekbone. The other settled at her waist, fingers splaying wide, possessive without force. He drew her forward until their bodies met: chest to chest, hips to hips, the hard planes of him against the softer curves of her.

He kissed her again.

This time there was no careful memorization. This time he kissed her like a man who had waited sixteen years to taste exactly this mouth.

Jane made a small sound into the kiss, fingers curling into the front of his shirt. She felt the rapid thud of his heart beneath her palm, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

His tongue swept past her lips, claiming, coaxing. She opened for him without hesitation. The kiss turned wet, deep, obscene in its hunger. He angled her head, took more, gave more. She rose onto her toes, chasing the taste of him.

When they broke apart both were breathing hard.

Seth rested his forehead against hers. “God, Jane.”

She smiled against his mouth, shaky. “Still time to unlock the door.”

“Never,” he answered.

He kissed her again, walking her backward until the edge of his desk met the backs of her thighs. He lifted her easily, setting her on the cool wood surface. Papers scattered. A pencil rolled to the floor. Neither cared.

Jane parted her knees instinctively. Seth stepped between them, hands sliding up the outsides of her thighs, bunching the emerald wool of her dress. The fabric whispered as it rose.

He watched the material gather at her hips with something like reverence.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

Jane felt exposed, vulnerable, powerful.

She reached for the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers shook only a little as she worked them free, one by one. When the last button gave way she pushed the fabric apart, palms sliding over warm skin, firm muscle, the light dusting of dark hair that trailed down his abdomen and disappeared beneath his belt.

Seth hissed softly when her nails grazed his n*****s.

He retaliated by hooking his fingers beneath the thin straps of her dress and sliding them down her shoulders. The bodice pooled at her waist, revealing the simple black lace bra she wore. Nothing extravagant. Practical. Yet the way his gaze darkened made her feel like the most expensive thing in the building.

He dipped his head, kissed the slope of her shoulder, then lower, tracing the upper curve of one breast with his lips. When he reached the edge of lace he paused.

“May I?” he asked against her skin.

Jane threaded her fingers through his hair. “Yes.”

He tugged the lace down with his teeth, slow enough to make her shiver. The cool air hit her n****e first, then his mouth. Hot. Wet. Relentless. He sucked gently, then harder, tongue flicking in tight circles. Jane’s head fell back. A moan escaped her, low and broken.

Seth’s hand slid between them, finding the damp lace between her thighs. He pressed the heel of his palm against her through the fabric, grinding slow circles that made her hips jerk.

“So wet already,” he murmured against her breast. “Have you been thinking about this all day?”

“Yes,” she admitted, voice raw.

“Tell me.”

She swallowed. “Since the rooftop. Since you said you’d think about kissing me. About touching me. About how I’d sound.”

He groaned, the vibration traveling straight through her. “I’ve been hard since the moment you walked into that briefing room. Watching you take notes. Watching the way your pen moved. Imagining those hands on me.”

He slipped his fingers beneath the edge of her panties, found slick heat, and circled her c**t with maddening patience.

Jane gasped, hips lifting into his touch.

He kissed his way up her throat, found her mouth again, swallowed her sounds as he worked her slowly, deliberately, building pressure without mercy.

When she was trembling, thighs shaking, he pulled back just enough to look at her.

“I want to taste you,” he said.

Before she could answer he dropped to his knees between her spread thighs.

The sight of him there, Seth Lawson on his knees before her, was almost too much.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips. He drew them down her legs, over her heels, and tucked them into his pocket without breaking eye contact.

Then he spread her thighs wider, draped her legs over his shoulders, and lowered his head.

The first swipe of his tongue made her cry out.

He licked her slow and thorough, savoring. Flat strokes from entrance to c**t, then pointed flicks against the swollen bud. When she started to writhe he pinned her hips to the desk with one forearm, holding her still while he devoured her.

Jane’s hands found his hair, gripping tight. She rocked against his mouth, chasing the building pleasure. He hummed approval, the vibration pushing her closer to the edge.

He slid two fingers inside her, curling them against the sensitive spot that made her vision white out. He sucked her c**t in rhythm with the thrust of his fingers, steady, relentless.

Jane felt the orgasm gathering like a storm.

“Seth,” she gasped. “I’m going to—”

He doubled his efforts.

She shattered.

The release crashed through her, wave after wave, thighs clamping around his head, back arching off the desk. He worked her through it, tongue gentle now, coaxing every last tremor until she was boneless, panting.

When he finally lifted his head his lips were glossy, eyes fever bright.

He rose, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Jane reached for his belt with shaking hands.

He helped her, unbuckling, shoving trousers and briefs down just enough. His erection sprang free, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip.

She wrapped her hand around him, stroking slow from base to crown. He groaned into her mouth, hips jerking.

“Condom?” she managed.

“Wallet,” he rasped.

He fished it out of his discarded trousers, tore the packet with his teeth, rolled it on with practiced efficiency.

Then he stepped between her thighs again, notched himself at her entrance.

“Look at me,” he said.

Jane met his gaze.

He pushed inside in one slow, inexorable thrust.

They both moaned.

He was thick, stretching her, filling her completely. She felt every inch, every ridge, the way he throbbed inside her.

He stilled when he was fully seated, forehead pressed to hers.

“Christ, Jane,” he whispered. “You feel…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

He began to move.

Slow at first. Long, measured strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper.

He picked up speed, thrusts growing harder, more desperate. The desk creaked beneath them. Papers slid to the floor. Neither cared.

Jane’s nails scored down his back through the open shirt. He hissed, liking the sting.

“Harder,” she begged.

He gave it to her.

He f****d her with purpose now, hips snapping, the wet sound of their bodies meeting filling the quiet office. She felt the coil tightening again, impossibly fast after the first release.

Seth reached between them, thumb finding her c**t, rubbing tight circles.

“Come with me,” he ordered, voice gravel.

Jane shattered a second time, harder than the first. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking him. He followed her over the edge with a broken groan, hips stuttering, burying himself deep as he pulsed inside her.

They clung to each other through the aftershocks, breathing ragged, skin slick with sweat.

When he finally pulled out they both hissed at the loss.

Seth disposed of the condom, then gathered her against his chest. He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

“So are you,” she answered.

He smiled against her hair. “Guilty.”

They stayed like that for long minutes, wrapped around each other on the edge of the desk that had just witnessed their ruin.

Eventually he helped her down, steadied her when her knees wobbled. He found her panties in his pocket, slid them back up her legs with surprising tenderness. He fixed her dress, smoothed her hair, kissed her softly.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“Not yet.”

He led her to the small sofa in the corner of the office, pulled her down beside him. She curled into his side, head on his shoulder.

They sat in silence, listening to the distant hum of the city.

After a while he spoke.

“This isn’t a one time thing.”

Jane lifted her head. “Seth…”

“I know the complications,” he said. “I know my mother. I know the board. I know the age difference. I know every reason this is impossible.”

He cupped her face.

“But I also know I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked through that door. And now that I’ve had you, I’m not letting go.”

Jane searched his eyes. “It could destroy everything.”

“Then we’ll be careful,” he said. “We’ll be smart. But I’m not walking away. Not unless you tell me to.”

She thought of the years she had spent trying to be safe. Trying to be proper. Trying to be the woman her ex husband wanted. Trying to be invisible.

She thought of the rooftop. The kiss. The way Seth had looked at her like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing.

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

“I’m not telling you to walk away,” she said.

Relief and hunger flashed across his face in equal measure.

He pulled her closer.

They kissed again, slower this time, languid, like people who finally had time.

When they finally parted he rested his forehead against hers.

“Go home,” he murmured. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we pretend nothing happened. We are impeccable. Professional. Boring.”

She smiled. “Boring.”

“Excruciatingly boring,” he agreed. “Until the moment we’re alone again.”

Jane stood, smoothed her dress one last time, collected her bag.

At the door she paused.

“Seth?”

He looked up from where he was straightening papers on the desk.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For reminding me I’m still alive.”

He crossed the room in three strides, kissed her hard, quick, possessive.

“You’re not just alive, Jane. You’re incandescent.”

She slipped out.

The corridor was empty.

She rode the elevator down alone, legs still trembling, skin still tingling, heart pounding with something she had not felt in years.

Fear.

Exhilaration.

Hope.

When she stepped into the cold night air she lifted her face to the wind and smiled.

She had just begun an affair with her best friend’s son.

She had just f****d her boss’s son on his desk.

She had just chosen something reckless and beautiful and terrifying.

And she did not regret a single second.

The city glittered around her, indifferent and endless.

Jane Morrow walked into the night feeling more dangerous, more desired, more herself than she had in sixteen years.

And somewhere thirty two floors above her, Seth Lawson watched the elevator lights descend, already counting the hours until he could touch her again.