Seven: Congratulations, Miss Davis
1776 Words
SERAPHINA'S POV.
I had never assumed Daniel was a fool until this moment.
A damn clueless puppet.
He actually nodded.
He mumbled something about giving us a minute to discuss the private details of the offer and walked right out of the office like the oblivious, trusting man he had always been and I stood there watching the door close behind him with my heart in my throat and my nails digging into my palm.
How could he leave me alone with this man? I had gripped his arm. I had practically telegraphed my desperation through my fingers and he had smiled and nodded and walked away anyway because Daniel always assumed the best of every situation and every person and right now I wanted to strangle him for it.
The door clicked shut.
I did not get the chance to turn around.
A sharp gasp escaped my lips as strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me forward until I was chest to chest with Mr. Voss.
The contact was electric, a shockwave that short-circuited my fear and replaced it with a sudden dizzying rush of heat that I absolutely did not have time for.
He spun me effortlessly and suddenly I was not just facing him. I was pressed against him, my palms flat on his chest, staring up into the dark abyss of his eyes that held no anger, only that predatory hunger that terrified me as much as it thrilled me and I hated myself for both reactions equally.
"And we meet again, Seraphina," he murmured right against my lips, his whiskey breath flooding my nostrils.
The smell was intoxicating. Rich and smoky and dragging up memories I had spent days trying to bury.
My body betrayed me instantly, melting against his hard frame, my knees weakening in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
The rational part of my brain screamed at me to push him away.
That voice drowned completely in the blood rushing through my ears.
All I wanted was to slam our lips together.
So I did.
I surged up and claimed his mouth with mine without a single second of hesitation and his lips were so damn soft, too soft for the kind of man he was, and the taste of him exploded on my tongue the moment we connected.
Expensive whiskey. Mint. And that dark distinct flavor that was purely Aaron.
I moaned into the kiss.
I wanted more. I nibbled at his lips seeking entrance, my teeth scraping gently against the fullness of his bottom lip, tugging and demanding, trying to force him to open up, but men like him do not submit.
He did not yield to my aggression. He absorbed it.
A low rumble vibrated in his chest, a warning growl that sent shivers racing down my spine, and the hand on my waist tightened to the point of bruising, pulling me impossibly closer until there was no space left between us, until I could feel the hard thick ridge of his c**k pressing against my stomach through his pants and just the feel of it made my mind go completely blank.
I wouldn't mind if he took me right here against that desk.
But Daniel could—
Fuck.
One moment I was pressing into him and the next the breath was driven from my lungs in a sharp gasp as his rough hands gripped my waist and lifted me like I weighed absolutely nothing.
My feet left the polished floor and before I could process what was happening my back collided with the cold surface of his desk.
The shock of the chilled wood against my spine seeped through my blouse immediately but it was nothing compared to the heat of the body now crowding between my legs.
His knee wedged itself roughly between my thighs, kicking them apart with a dominant insistence that made my hips jerk and sent a jolt of terrified arousal straight through me.
He loomed over me, his eyes darkening until they were almost black, swallowing the light flooding the room.
One hand moved from my waist to tangle in my hair, tilting my head back at an angle that pleased him, exposing my throat to his lips before he claimed my mouth again.
He dominated the rhythm completely, slowing it down, making it deep and dirty.
His tongue swept past my lips not asking for permission, taking what he wanted, exploring my mouth with a thorough arrogant ownership that made my toes curl inside my heels.
He licked the roof of my mouth. Stroked my tongue. Sucked my lower lip until it was swollen and tingling and I stopped fighting entirely, my hands clutching at his lapels, holding on for dear life as he devoured me.
I sucked on his tongue pulling him deeper, tasting the whiskey and that distinct musky flavor of him that was so intoxicating.
I met his hunger with my own, our kisses wet and messy, sounds of our mouths meeting and separating echoing in the silence of the office.
He groaned low in his throat at something I did and the sound traveled straight down my spine and settled between my legs and I felt myself clench around nothing and the wetness soaking through my underwear was humiliating and I did not care at all.
My arms wrapped tight around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape, pulling him closer, wanting to eliminate every inch of space between us.
He shifted his weight, pressing his hips forward, and I felt the hard thick ridge of him again and I arched off the desk instinctively seeking more pressure and hating how desperately obvious I was being.
"You taste so f*****g good," he growled against my mouth, his voice a ragged scrape of sound. "I can't f*****g stop."
Every cell in my body screamed yes, don't you dare stop.
He bit my lip again, harder this time, drawing a whimper from me that he swallowed instantly. His hands slid down the sides of my body leaving trails of fire in their wake, gripping my waist, fingers digging into my flesh, holding me completely immobile.
Jesus Christ.
This man was gifted.
My breath came in short ragged gasps through my nose whenever he allowed me a split second of air.
His lips disconnected from mine and came down to my neck, licking a slow trail down my skin that made me pant and grip his hair tighter and I genuinely couldn't tell if I was pushing him away or pulling him closer.
Fuck. What was I doing?
Daniel was right outside that door.
But some traitorous part of me whispered that nobody would dare walk into Aaron Voss's office without his permission.
I should not be doing this.
I had promised myself the club was the last time. I had made that promise the whole drive home, sore and satisfied and drowning in guilt, and here I was two days later soaking wet for his boss on his desk.
"Mr. Voss," I breathed, pressing both palms against his chest, and thankfully he pulled back just enough to look at me.
His lips were swollen and wet, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that terrified and thrilled me in equal measure.
His gaze dropped to my heaving chest. Then to my parted lips. Then back to my eyes.
"I can't do this," I said, forcing the words out. "I can't accept your offer. Now if you will please excuse me—"
I made a move to push him backward.
He pressed himself further against me instead.
I gasped, gripping the edge of the desk on both sides, unable to move.
"You." His eyes flashed. "Are. Working. For. Me. And. That. Is. Final."
The commanding tone did something to my insides that it should not have done.
"I clearly stated that I do not want to work for you," I breathed out, hating how shaky my voice came out. "Let me go Mr. Voss or I will scream."
A laugh escaped his lips.
"Go ahead, Miss Davis."
"It is Mrs!" I glared at him, jaw tight. "Mrs. Davis."
"It is Miss to me." His lips curled slowly. "Now. Back to what I was saying." His eyes held mine without blinking. "I want you as my personal assistant."
I blinked.
His personal assistant?
Hell No.
"Mr. Voss," I started as steadily as I could manage given that I was sitting on his desk with his body between my legs, "I have no interest in working for you. I will keep looking elsewhere. Thank you for the offer. You can look for someone else"
His eyes glinted.
"I. Want. You."
"I. Am. A. Married. Woman," I reminded him through clenched teeth.
His fingers slid back into my hair slowly, the pads of them tracing my scalp before he grabbed a fistful and pulled, tilting my neck back until I had nowhere to look but directly into his eyes.
"You did not seem to remember you were a married woman," He rasped, "when you crawled to me like the dirty little slut you are and begged me to f**k you."
The words hit me like a slap.
Instinct took over before I could stop myself.
I raised my hand and smacked him across the face.
It probably hurt me more than it hurt him. He did not even flinch, not a single muscle moved.
He just looked at me with those dark eyes and his grip on my hair tightened so suddenly and so sharply that a cry tore from my throat before I could stop it, the burn shooting from my scalp all the way down my spine.
He used the grip to bring my face closer until our lips were grazing and I could feel every controlled breath he took against my mouth.
He bit my bottom lip so hard I tasted metal and winced.
"The next time you raise your hand at me. I'm going to f**k you so hard until you beg me to stop. And you know who's going to be our guest to watch?" His lips grazed her ear. "Quel bastardo stupido che chiami marito." ( That stupid bastard you call your husband )
He speaks Italian?
That was so f*****g hot.
"Are we clear?" he said, switching back to English without missing a beat.
"Yes," I whimpered.
His grip on my hair loosened slowly but he didn't let go entirely and I understood that was intentional.
"Good girl." The corner of his mouth curved. "Congratulations, Miss Davis. You are now my personal assistant."
- Writer
