He repositions himself above me, one arm hooking beneath my knee and lifting my leg up to curl around his back so he can push in. Oh God, he’s so deep. It’s so intense and though not painful, not entirely enjoyable.

“Breathe,” he whispers against my mouth. “I’m there.”

“You are?”

He smiles, slipping one hand beneath my neck while the other one reaches down between us to rub circles against my clit.

And then he slowly pulls his hips back, dragging his long, hard cock out of me, leaving me feeling suddenly empty.

But only for a second, and then he’s back, pushing in, that intense, almost unbearable fullness forcing a cry from my lips.

Over and over again, so slowly, Henry pulls out and thrusts back in, each time becoming a little easier, my body accommodating his size more easily, then more greedily, until I feel the urge to move my hips with him.

He moans, as if he’s been waiting for that moment and his body begins plunging harder into me, lifting my pelvis with each thrust. His hips slap against my thighs, the rhythmic sound competing with the creak in the bed.

My breasts bounce violently and I know they’re going to be sore later, but right now I don’t care, reveling in the growing slickness between my legs as my body accepts all of Henry. I wonder if all sex feels this incredible, or if it’s just sex with Henry that makes me feel euphoric and free.

My hands slip over his skin, now coated with a thin sheen of sweet as his hips pump into me again and again, mercilessly, his hooded gaze locked on my face, smiling every time a gasp or moan escapes my lips.

“Henry...” I moan, trailing my tongue along the salty edge of his collarbone.

“I want to fuck you harder.”

“Yes,” I hear myself whisper, because instinctively I know I want him to, though I have no idea what that may feel like, and whether I can handle it. But I know I want it.

His eyes are full of amazement as he pushes up and back to rest on his knees, hooking arms behind my legs to lift my hips, his cock never slipping out. He slips his thumb over my clit again, applying pressure and rubbing circles around it. “You’re going to come with me.” It sounds like a demand. One that I think I can meet, my entire body blushed and humming with uninhibited desire, that same sensation I’ve felt twice with him already hovering in the recesses.

His powerful body thrusts into me and I cry out, his cock so deep inside that it’s borderline painful, and yet the idea of him being that deep turns me on, makes me want him to do it again.

And he does, hard and fast, slamming into me relentlessly, lifting my body off the bed, pulling a gasp each time.

It’s when my body welcomes the almost violent intrusion, giving itself completely over to Henry, that the warmth begins to spread through my middle, the tingle creeps along my spine, the urge to spread my legs and open myself up as much as humanly possible as my muscles tighten hits me.

I cry out as my orgasm rips through my spent body.

A guttural sound tears from Henry’s mouth, his face contorting, the last few slams against me coming so fast I can’t catch my breath, and then I feel him swelling inside me, his cock pumping out streams of cum.

And I can’t help but fantasize that he was shooting into me, instead of the condom, the primitive core of me craving his seed.

Henry slides out of me. I’m too spent to miss him in me yet, but I’m sure I will. My body sinks into the fluffy, soft bedding, now damp from our sweat and bodily fluids, and I listen to Henry’s shallow pants. He still looks as glorious as ever, resting on his haunches with his eyes closed, his lips parted, and his head tilted back, that lickable Adam’s apple jutting out.

“So, that’s what sex is like,” I mumble, earning his laugh.

He rubs his hand along my leg casually. “That’s just the beginning, Abbi.”

I meet his eyes and see the promise in them as they rake over my naked, boneless body. He’s still erect. I’m beginning to wonder if this guy ever isn’t. “You look like an angel that accidently fell into my bed,” he murmurs. “If I could keep you here and fuck you all day, I would.”

As sore and used and exhausted as my body is, I feel his words between my legs like a teasing caress.

With a sigh, he climbs off the bed, pulling the condom off and depositing it into a tissue. He glances at the clock. “I have a breakfast meeting in fifteen minutes, don’t I?”

“At eight. Yes.”

He heads for the shower. If I could find it in me to move, I’d like to get in there with him. But he’s on a timeline and I’ve noticed he doesn’t like being late.

It’s a quick shower, and then he’s out, toweling off and redressing quickly.

“I need you to call Rich Rowley and ask him to contact Shanghai today for a status update, and then send me a full recap.”

Just like yesterday, the moment it’s over, the seductive, attentive Henry is gone, replaced by business.

“Okay.” I pull myself up, swinging my legs over the end. I’m not entirely sure I’m capable of standing.

He slips his arms through his dress shirt sleeves. “About your text to me last night. Are you still confused?”

“Honestly? I don’t know what I am right now.”

“Besides no longer a little virgin farm girl?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, making him chuckle as he buttons his shirt with expertly fast hands. He holds out his silver tie.

I stand and take it. “Seriously? You tied your own tie this morning! Unless you had someone else do it,” I joke, slipping it around his thick neck. But my face falls as that thought settles. Maybe he did.

“I know how to tie a tie.” He smiles, easing my paranoia. “But I like having you do it. Is it such an unpleasant job?”

“No. I enjoy it actually,” I admit. I feel his gaze on my face as I loop the ends and pull them through, adjusting the knot with my fingers. “There.”

“You know, you’re very good at it.”

“It’s not hard.” I slide the silky material through my fingers. “Especially when they’re such high quality.”

The pad of his thumb slides over my bottom lip. “I wasn’t talking about the tie.”

“Oh,” I sigh, and then my cheeks begin to burn. I’ve just had sex with this man and I’m still blushing over sexual suggestions. Will that ever go away?

“Remember,” he leans down to tease my lips with his own, “I’m Mr. Wolf outside these walls. Just another rich tyrant. You have no idea how good my cock feels driving into you. Right?”

“Right,” I whisper, shakily. “But you’re not a tyrant.”

“If anyone calls me a tyrant or an asshole, don’t defend me. In fact, if you want to agree with them, I’m okay with that.”

The staff gossip from last night rings in my ear. “Because what we’re doing is wrong?”

“Is it against Wolf corporate rules? Yes. Is it wrong?” He sighs. “Every time I think about you, every time I’m near you, I don’t give a shit about what anyone else thinks.”

His frank words make my chest swell. “You think about me?”

He chuckles. “Yes, too much, which is why this happened in the first place. I have a hotel to get off the ground so I had to either fire you or fuck you.” His hand slips behind my neck, rubbing it affectionately. “I didn’t want to fire you.”

“So, what now? What are we doing here, exactly?”

He grazes my cheek with his knuckles. “You’re getting over an idiot ex and fucking your boss for the next four months. I’m running a hotel and fucking my assistant for the next four months. That’s all.”

That’s all. There’s no mention of a relationship or exclusivity and now is not the time to bring it up. Perhaps before I spread my legs would have been a good time, but I already know that had he come out and said that he can’t give me either, I likely still would have allowed this to happen.

Because I feel happy and wanted and desirable for the first time in a long time. And that pain in my chest over Jed’s rejection?