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I hoped she could feel it on her tongue, that she’d know the tell-tale stirring of an orgasm was swirling in my balls and fizzing at the base of my spine. This was no time to enjoy a slow, sensual blowjob. A fast release was required, something that might get her out of my bloody system when I spurted cum down her throat and reduced the risk of us being interrupted.
    Again she bobbed her head, her suction sublime and all too damn pleasurable. I gave in, gripped the armrests and relaxed against the back of my chair, stared at the door, willing it to stay shut. I lifted my hips, forcing my cock further into her mouth, wanting to see if she balked. Needing to see if I could surprise her, catch her off guard. She took it all in her stride, damn her, drawing her mouth up, a hard and tight channel around me, and gave me a coy glance through her mascaraed lashes as if to say: Is that all you’ve got?
    That was it. I shot into her mouth, my pelvis jerking, cock tip jabbing into the back of her throat. Cum spewed out of me, a seemingly never-ending stream that sent me dizzy, had me closing my eyes even though I fought it. I’d wanted to watch her swallow, to grip her hair and tug hard, but all sense left me. Nothing but what she was doing and how it made me feel existed.
    Emptied, she’d emptied me, and my cock left her mouth with a soft plop. I opened my eyes to see her shuffling backwards, something that would have looked unfeminine from anyone but Zara. I quickly tucked myself away, then had no desire to do anything but study her as she stood, straightened her skirt and picked up my silver engraved fountain pen.
    “This is my mobile number.” She scribbled on an invoice for several hundred thousand pounds. “Next time you get a hard-on, call me. I’m not a mind reader.”
    She dropped the pen with a clatter, straightened then made her way to the door.
    With her fingers curled around the handle, she said, “See you tonight then.” She swung the door open and stepped out into the hallway, glancing over her shoulder. “Victor Partridge.”
    The door closed, shutting off my vision of her, my need to watch her strolling down the hallway, her arse swaying. In confused shock, I stared at my groin. I was aware of a vein still throbbing in my cock. I was sated in a way I hadn’t been before, my mind a muddle of not being able to understand how a woman could make me lose control, make me forget all reason and just go with whatever she had in mind.
    What the hell had she done to me?
    And, more to the point, what the hell would she do next?

Chapter Five
     
    After leaving Victor’s office, I sashayed down the hallway and past Mary’s desk, giving her a smile that I hoped would soothe her bruised ego. I hadn’t meant to upset her—Heaven forbid she have palpitations caused by me—but I’d woken with the mission to give that man a reminder of the previous night and wouldn’t have let anyone stop me. She pursed her lips in what I could only take to be a disapproving grimace and looked me up and down, a frown appearing when she stilled her gaze on my short skirt. I mentally shrugged off her dissatisfaction with my appearance and smiled wider. She continued to stare as I sauntered towards the door. I felt her watching me leave the reception area, as though her eyes shot out red-hot lasers that bored into my back, but, once out in the fresh, cool air, I forgot all about her.
    As I walked along the street, heading for the coffee shop, my phone bleeped, signalling a text message. I smirked, sure it would be Victor, knowing it would be him. I’d hooked many a man in the past and he’d be no different. Digging into my handbag, I found my phone and read the message.
    Coffee shop. Now.
    Throwing my head back and letting out a peal of laughter, gaining a few odd or startled looks from passersby—and no, I didn’t give a damn—I entered the coffee shop, heading for the counter with such determination in my stride I imagined I