The door clicked shut behind Damian.
My heart slammed in my chest. I was still bent over Mr. Hale’s desk — chest bare, skirt bunched at my waist, legs shaking and wet from everything he’d just done to me. My boss. My cold, commanding, silver-haired boss… and now his son was standing behind me.
I shouldn’t have been turned on.
But I was soaked.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Damian said, voice smooth and playful. “But this—” he gestured to me, still panting on the desk, “—was not what I expected when I dropped off my internship forms.”
Vincent adjusted his cuffs with practiced calm, like he hadn’t just finished emptying himself inside me minutes ago.
“You were told to sit down,” he said coolly.
Damian smirked. “Where?”
“Anywhere that lets you keep your hands off her. For now.”
My brea
