“Let's have lunch now?” I proposed, my voice squeaking slightly, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs. I was desperate for any mundane escape from the high-voltage, crippling tension of the office. The thought of consuming food was nauseating, but I needed a distraction, a barrier, anything to stop Theon’s silent assault on my sanity.
“Yeah, I'm starving,” Theon whispered in my ears again, the word starving dripping with layers of s****l, predatory implication. He pressed his hips and his hard length against my back one last, punishing time, a blatant statement of intent. My eyes widened in sheer panic, and I violently yanked myself free of his grip, spinning around.
“What did you bring?” I asked, my voice slightly breathless, forcing myself to focus on the triviality of the takeout
