The Armed Detective Agency office was a labyrinth of chaos and quiet corners, and Dazai’s desk was its own little kingdom of disarray. Piles of unfinished paperwork teetered precariously, threatening to avalanche at the slightest provocation. The dim light filtering through the blinds cast long shadows over the cluttered surface, while the faint hum of the city outside buzzed like a distant heartbeat. And there I was, perched on Dazai’s lap, my thighs pressed against the hard edge of his desk, feeling every inch of the tension radiating from him as his pen scratched irritably against the page.
His arm was a steel trap around my waist, holding me in place with a firmness that brooked no argument. But I wasn’t one for sitting still—not when the air was thick with unspoken challenges and the heat of him beneath me was a distraction all its own. I shifted, squirming just enough to test his patience, my restlessness bubbling over like champagne in a shaken bottle.
Dazai let out an exasperated sigh, his voice dripping with mock patience as he muttered, “Can’t you sit still for five damn minutes, you fidgety little gremlin?”
I smirked, leaning in close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek. Without warning, I sank my teeth into his shoulder—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to annoy. I relished the way his pen jerked across the paper, leaving a jagged line in its wake.
He gritted his teeth, shooting me a sideways glare, his dark eyes flashing with irritation and something hotter, something that made my pulse quicken. “Bite me again, and I’ll make you regret it, brat.”
Undeterred, I tilted my head with a taunting grin and nipped at his forearm next, my lips brushing against the taut muscle there. “Try me, desk jockey. I’m bored,” I whispered, my voice a low, teasing purr.
His grip tightened, fingers digging into my hip with a force that sent a thrill down my spine. He growled under his breath, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You’re a menace. Do you ever shut up?”
I wiggled deliberately, grinding against him just to push his buttons, feeling the way his body tensed beneath me. My voice was a teasing lilt as I tossed back, “Make me, genius. Or are you too busy playing secretary?”
Dazai’s jaw clenched, his focus visibly fracturing as the tension coiled tighter between us. With a sharp, frustrated motion, he slammed his pen down, the sound cutting through the quiet office like a gunshot. “Fine. You want attention? You’ve got it, you insufferable pest.”
Before I could throw another barb his way, his free hand slipped beneath my skirt, bold and unapologetic. My breath caught as two fingers pressed into me with maddening precision, sending a shockwave of heat through my core. I gasped, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but Dazai didn’t even look at me. His gaze stayed stubbornly fixed on his paperwork, as if nothing was happening, as if he wasn’t unraveling me with every calculated move.
“There. Happy now, you noisy little nuisance?” he drawled, his tone infuriatingly casual, like he was commenting on the weather.
My breath hitched, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter. Biting my lip, I forced my voice into a snarl, even as my body betrayed me with a shiver. “Is that all you’ve got, Dazai? I’ve had better from a vending machine.”
His lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes remained glued to the page. His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, dragging out every sensation until my nerves felt like live wires. “Keep talking, sweetheart. Let’s see how long that mouth of yours holds up.”
I squirmed again, half in defiance, half in desperation, my hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as I fought to keep my composure. “You’re the worst,” I hissed, my voice laced with venom and something dangerously close to a plea. “Can’t even multitask properly, huh?”
He chuckled darkly, finally glancing at me with a glint of mischief in those fathomless eyes. “Oh, darling, I’m just getting started. Keep whining, and I’ll give you something to really cry about.”
I narrowed my eyes, my grip tightening on his shirt as I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Big talk for a man who’s still got half a report to finish. What’s the matter, Dazai? Losing your edge?”
His smirk widened, a predator’s grin that sent a shiver down my spine. “Careful, love. Push me too far, and I’ll have you begging on this desk before the ink’s even dry.”
“Promises, promises,” I shot back, my voice dripping with challenge, even as his touch threatened to undo me entirely. The office around us faded, the hum of the city a distant murmur, as the game between us burned hotter with every word, every touch, every unspoken dare.
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