The late afternoon sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Damon Blackwood’s office, casting golden streaks across the sleek, modern space. The city skyline glittered beyond the glass, a silent witness to the charged atmosphere brewing within. Cori Bennett stood just outside the heavy glass door, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her pencil skirt. Her heart thrummed in her chest, a nervous rhythm she couldn’t quiet. A routine performance review, she told herself. That’s all this was. Yet the way Damon’s secretary had smirked when delivering the summons hinted at something… more.
Taking a deep breath, Cori smoothed her skirt one last time, pushed her shoulders back, and knocked. The sound was barely audible over the hum of her own pulse.
“Come in,” came the voice from within, deep and smooth, like velvet over steel.
She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the polished hardwood. Damon sat behind his imposing black desk, his tailored suit hugging his broad shoulders, a pen poised between long, capable fingers. His dark eyes flicked up to meet hers, and the intensity in them nearly made her stumble. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips, and Cori felt heat bloom across her chest, her knees threatening to betray her.
“Miss Bennett,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, his gaze raking over her with deliberate slowness. “Close the door behind you.”
She hesitated for half a second before complying, the click of the latch sounding louder than it should have. When she turned back, Damon was already on his feet, rounding the desk with the grace of a panther. He reached past her—his cologne, a heady mix of cedar and spice, enveloping her—and locked the door with a decisive snap. Her breath hitched.
“Is… is that necessary?” she managed, her voice smaller than she intended.
Damon’s smirk widened as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Oh, Cori, I think we both know this isn’t going to be a standard chat about spreadsheets and deadlines.” His tone was teasing, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a promise that made her stomach flip. “Sit.”
She glanced at the chair across from his desk, but he shook his head, gesturing to the edge of the desk itself. Her brows furrowed, but she obeyed, perching awkwardly on the cool surface, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. He stepped in front of her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from him, his eyes pinning her in place.
“You’re always so… timid,” he mused, his voice low, almost a purr. “Hiding behind those little blushes and downcast eyes. But I see you, Cori. I see the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking.”
Her cheeks flamed, and she opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a raised hand.
“Don’t deny it,” he said, his grin wicked. “It’s adorable, really. Like a kitten trying to play tough. But I’m no housecat, sweetheart. And I think it’s time you stopped pretending to be so… tame.”
Cori swallowed hard, her fingers tightening in her lap. “Mr. Blackwood, I—”
“Damon,” he corrected, stepping even closer, his hands bracing on either side of her on the desk, caging her in. “Say it.”
“Damon,” she whispered, the name feeling forbidden on her lips. His eyes darkened, and she felt a thrill shoot through her, sharp and electric.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “Now, tell me, Cori. Why do you tremble every time I’m near? Is it fear… or something else?”
Her breath caught, and she bit her lip, trying to muster some semblance of control. “I’m not trembling,” she lied, though her voice wavered.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made her toes curl in her heels. “Oh, darling, you’re shaking like a leaf. But don’t worry—I’m very good at steadying nervous hands.” His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, lingering on the curve of her neck. “Among other things.”
She should have pushed him away, should have stood up and demanded professionalism. But the way he looked at her, like she was something to be devoured, made her pulse race in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “You’re… awfully confident,” she managed, her voice steadier now, though her heart wasn’t. “What makes you think I’m interested in anything beyond a paycheck?”
Damon’s grin was pure sin. “Because, Cori, if you weren’t, you’d have bolted for the door the second I locked it. Instead, you’re sitting here, all flushed and flustered, waiting to see what I’ll do next. And trust me—I’ve got plenty of ideas.”
Before she could respond, he reached out, his fingers brushing against her jaw, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. The touch was light but commanding, and she felt herself leaning into it despite herself. “You’ve got a sharp tongue when you want to,” he said, his thumb grazing her lower lip. “I like that. Let’s see if you can keep up.”
“Keep up?” she echoed, her voice breathy.
“With me,” he clarified, and then his lips were on hers, firm and insistent, stealing the air from her lungs. She gasped into the kiss, her hands instinctively gripping his shirt, and he took full advantage, deepening the contact until she was dizzy with it. His hands slid to her hips, pulling her closer, and she felt the hard edge of the desk digging into her thighs as he pressed against her.
“Damon,” she breathed when he pulled back just enough to let her catch her breath, his forehead resting against hers. “This… this is insane.”
“Insane?” he repeated, his lips curling into a smirk as he trailed kisses down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her gasp. “No, Cori. This is inevitable. You’ve been driving me to distraction for months with those tight little skirts and shy little smiles. I’m done waiting.”
Her head tipped back, a soft moan escaping her as his hands roamed, bold and unapologetic, igniting fire wherever they touched. “You’re… impossible,” she managed, though the words lacked any real conviction.
“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, his voice rough with want as he lifted her slightly, settling her more firmly on the desk, her skirt riding up as he stepped between her legs. “Now, be a good girl and let go. I’ve got you.”
She didn’t have time to overthink it. His hands were everywhere, his mouth claiming hers again, and the world narrowed to the heat of him, the scent of him, the way he seemed to unravel her with every touch. Her moans grew louder, unrestrained, echoing off the glass walls of the office as she surrendered completely, caught up in the storm of Damon Blackwood.
Just as she felt herself teetering on the edge of something she couldn’t name, a faint creak sliced through the haze of pleasure. Her eyes snapped open, her breath ragged, as she realized it was the sound of the door—someone was trying to get in. Damon froze, his lips still hovering near her ear, his grip on her tightening possessively.
“Well,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement, “looks like we’ve got company.”
Cori’s heart pounded, a mix of fear and exhilaration, as she stared at the door, wondering who—or what—was on the other side.
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