My toes curl. I’m so hot, even the soles of my feet seem to be on fire. His tongue is pure magic, driving me relentlessly toward a climax.
A start of an orgasm burns through me, all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I’m very close, and I clutch him, stunned at how fast I can peak. It usually takes me forever.
I have no time to dwell on that. He thrusts two thick fingers inside me, curling them just so to hit my G-spot as he pulls my clit hard into his mouth and flicks his tongue over the nub. His free hand reaches upward and pinches a nipple with enough force to almost hurt, but that sharp pain-pleasure is just what I need.
A mind-incinerating climax slams through me, and I shove a fist against my mouth to muffle my scream. My back bends like a slinky, and I literally can’t breathe.
He keeps going, his hands and mouth working together in an Olympian display of erotic coordination. I hurtle to another peak and shatter all over again.
I don’t know how long I lie on the desk, shaking in aftershock. Ryder presses a kiss on my delicate swollen folds. When he looks up, his mouth is wet. He licks his lips.
“Yummy.”
A wicked smile curves his clever mouth. Somethin
g warm, soft and gooey spreads through me, and I feel absolutely marvelous. I should be scandalized that he made me come so swiftly—and in his lawyer’s conference room, no less—but I can’t bring myself to care.
Nobody’s ever taken me to such an incredible height before. Sure, I’ve had orgasms, but this…this was amazing. I don’t know if my exes didn’t have good technique, or didn’t care enough to bother, or if it was just a lack of chemistry or…something. But holy cow. Ryder can make me wet with just a heated look, like the one he’s giving me right now.
He hasn’t come yet. I start to get up. I want to make him feel as good as he made me.
Brisk knocks snap me back to reality. “Are you finished?” Samantha says on the other side of the door.
I gasp. I still have my skirt around my waist, and my panties are on the floor.
Ryder shoves them into his back pocket and helps me up. “One moment!” I smooth my skirt down my legs and run my hand over my hair. My bun is ruined. I have no idea when that happened.
There’s no time to fix it, so I pull all the pins out and let my hair hang over my shoulder.
“Come on in,” Ryder calls, as soon as we’re both back in our seats.
Samantha walks in. If she notices the change in my hair, she doesn’t give any sign. “So.”
“We’re going to rethink the alimony,” Ryder says.
“You are? How?”
“To reduce the money,” I say. “I mean, um, not having all that money stuff.”
Confusion clouds her otherwise sharp gaze. “Whose idea is this?”
“Mine,” I say.
Samantha’s gaze flicks back and forth between Ryder and me a couple of times. “Anything else?”
“Nothing that I can think of right now,” Ryder says. “We’ll let you know once we have something more concrete.” He glances at me.
I shake my head. “We’re good. Thanks.”
Ryder and I gather our things and leave. Nobody can tell—I don’t think—but I feel like the baddest girl ever, walking commando with the slickness between my thighs. But it’s impossible to feel even a pinch of shame as my body buzzes with energy and a ridiculous sense of well-being.
The elevator doors open, and Ceinlys Pryce steps out.
Slim and fashionable, she is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Her glossy black hair is in an elegant French twist, and she looks even thinner in a charcoal gray dress and black patent leather stilettos. The red lipstick on her mouth is stark against her pale skin, but somehow she pulls it off.
Still, for some odd reason, she looks…haunted. Her gaze roams, searching for something, and I have an odd feeling that she doesn’t know what that is. There’s no focus in her eyes.
“Aunt Ceinlys,” Ryder says. “What a surprise.”