Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
I don't want this man to see me as a disaster.
"Does he talk to you like that often, Davina?"
"He talks to everyone like that," I whisper. "It's just the way he is."
"Bullshit."
"I…"
"We're not excusing a bully by saying it is the way he is, baby girl. He's a fucking asshole, full stop. And he doesn't get to speak to you that way." His eyes narrow on me, something dark and deadly drifting through them. "I don't give a fuck if he is your boss, no one speaks to you that way unless they want to answer to me."
"He hates that he's never made me cry like he has everyone else," I admit, looking up at him through my lashes. "I never let him see me cry. But I'm not a disaster, Micah. I know how to do my job, and I'm good at it. I'm just distracted today."
He peers down at me with a small smirk playing at his lips. "You think you're the only one distracted, little girl? You've got my dick so hard I can't even sit down."
I don't know what possesses me to do it—really, I don't. But he says those words and a bolt of white-hot desire rips through me. All I want is to see the proof of his need. I need it. Badly.
So I peek up at him through my lashes, pouting. "Can I see it, Daddy? Please? I won't tell."
His gaze turns feral, dark and dangerous and oh so delicious. "Davina," he growls my name as if it's a warning, a threat.
"Can I see it, Daddy?" I ask again, softer this time, biting my lower lip shyly.
His eyes darken further at the innocent question.
"You want to see Daddy's dick?" His voice is rough like whiskey, causing my heart to pound.
I nod eagerly. "Yes, Daddy."
He makes quick work of his belt, the leather slapping against the porcelain tiles as it drops, echoing in the silence. I sit, entranced, as he unzips his pants, delving inside. He doesn't take his cock out at first, letting me anticipate what's coming.
When he finally does, I let out a small gasp.
He's so beautiful. Hard and throbbing just for me. The sight of him only makes me wetter. He strokes himself slowly while I watch, unable to look away.
"Look at you, Daddy," I breathe, leaning back against the conference room table and spreading my legs wide. His eyes flicker down as I pull my panties aside for him to see how wet he's made me.
"I want you to come for me, Daddy," I tell him, my voice shaking with need as I spread my lower lips apart to show him where I want it. "Right here."
"Jesus Christ, little girl. Are you trying to kill your daddy?" His hand quickens its pace, his eyes locked on my pussy. His breath comes in ragged pants.
"No," I say, giggling. "I'm trying to make you come." I roll my thumb across my clit, moaning his name. "Good daddies get rewards."
"Jesus, I'm already close," he gasps, eyes dilating as he nears his climax.
"Then come for me," I demand softly. "Please, Daddy. I need it."
His hand speeds up on his length—so rough and primal. And then he grunts out a curse, ropes of cum spilling onto my pussy and across my thighs.
I moan, so turned on by the sight that I can't help myself. I rub it into my skin, whimpering his name. Within seconds, I'm coming too, shattering into a million pieces under his wicked gaze.
He growls, yanking me into his arms. His mouth comes down on mine in a fierce kiss, stealing my breath. "Naughty, naughty, little girl," he snarls against my lips.
"Just the way you like me," I breathe, melting into him, Stanley and his tirade long forgotten.
***
By the time the day ends, and everyone leaves, I'm a mess. Literally. My panties were too soaked after lunch to put them back on, so Micah slipped them off me and put them in his pocket. He's been toying with them all afternoon. My thighs are drenched as a result.
I can't focus. Every time his hand disappeared into that pocket, my mind went blank. I've made more mistakes than ever before.
Stanley is furious.
But I don't even care. Because no matter how many mistakes I made, he didn't dare speak to me rudely. He knew better.
I've never seen his face so red before.
As soon as the elevator doors close, whisking him and Sharon downstairs, Micah is at my side, breathing hard.
"Come here, little girl," he growls, hauling me into his arms.
"See you later!" Gemma says through laughter as he practically races into his office with me.
Gemma asked me to stay behind, pretending she wanted to talk to me about something. I love her for it because we both know she's the only reason Stanley didn't demand I leave with him and Sharon.