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refused her mercy, fucking her through her climax. Fucking her through my own release.
    My mouth finally came
away from the full swell of her breast, and I groaned against Chloe’s chest.
“Not enough. Never enough. I’ll never have enough of
you.” Her arms abruptly closed around my head and clasped me tight against her.
She was still panting and squeezing her eyes shut, still beyond speech, I
suspected. I hoped. I reveled .
    Hips pumping, I took
her harder, pounding my thighs against the end of the table. There would be
bruises later. A high whine began to build at the base of her throat, as first
one arm and then the other fell away from me, limp against the gleaming wood
beneath her. There wasn’t an ounce of resistance left in her. She was mine, her
body under my complete control.
    “Say my name, Chloe,” I
rasped. “Who is your Master?
    “You. Adrian,” she sighed, nearly inaudible.
    “Again,” I demanded.
    “Adrian.”
    The softer she spoke
the harder my cock throbbed, demanding she take me deeper, harder, rougher . I couldn’t get far enough inside her, no matter how
deep I thrust, no matter how much she took. More, I always needed more. I
always would need more with Chloe, long after she was gone, after everything I
was had finally pushed her from me.
    And again I came inside
her, no condom, no hesitation. I filled her and
claimed her and spent… myself inside
her.
    “Adrian,” she murmured
again, almost having caught her breath while I was still panting madly and
shuddering against her. One hand came up off the table, and her fingers
threaded through my hair, massaging my scalp. Heaven couldn’t have been better.
    I was about to tell her
so when the doorknob rattled.
    ***
    I twisted abruptly
where I lay on the conference table, my gaze fixed on the door I’d locked when
I slipped into the room to see Adrian. We were both on our feet in an instant,
and both of us tugging at my clothing, trying to preserve what was surely at
this point my nonexistent modesty. No one was going to see our flushed faces
and believe we’d been having an innocent conversation.
    It was, I thought
distantly, kind of sweet that Knight tried to help me get myself in order
before himself . One of those small gestures from
Adrian that had always made me feel cared for, looked
after…cherished. Over those initial days on Ihla de
Flor, it had taken real effort to discount so many little instances of
consideration and kindness, to condition myself to believe them meaningless or
even accidental. If I could have gone back to those moments now, I’d have let
myself enjoy them.
    “Adrian,” an unfamiliar
voice called through the door.
    “Obray. He’s my lead counsel,” Adrian told me, smoothing the thick waves of his
blackish brown hair back into place as I fiddled frantically with his belt.
    “Mr. Knight?” That one
I recognized—Frank Ullman.
    “I’m done for,” I
whispered as my hands and my breathing stilled and Adrian and I stopped to gaze
full-on at one another.
    Knight shook his head,
his parted lips grasping for something to say and failing. In the end, he
kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be,” I told him,
an odd calm settling over me now that I knew I’d been caught. “The choice was
mine.” The strangest thought occurred to me as I followed Adrian slowly to the
door. Had this been the way my mother felt all those years? She might never
have tamed my father’s wandering eye, but she had owned her love of him. She’d
accepted it. Embraced it. It had been hers —part of who she was—whether he had
been or not.
    I didn’t feel quite so
accepting of the subtle glare I got from Frank Ullman once that door was open
and he and Obray had a moment to look over my disheveled appearance and
Adrian’s. “Miss Bloom,” Ullman said dryly before he turned to the thinner,
gray-haired man. “This is one of the junior partners from our firm.” This
earned only a raised eyebrow from Obray, as Frank