{Please cross it. Cross every line. Demolish every boundary. I'm begging—}
He still didn't touch her beyond caging proximity, and somehow that restraint was more devastating than contact would've been.
Her eyes flicked involuntarily toward her mahogany desk—a micro-expression of pure betrayal her body made before her mind could stop it.
"I can see it," he said, his voice dropping to intimate whisper that felt like fingers trailing down her spine, making her shudder. "Playing behind your beautiful, professional eyes. Want me to describe what I'm watching?"
"No—" But it came out breathless, already defeated, a choked little sound that was more surrender than protest.
{Yes. God yes. Describe it. Make me hear it out loud so I can't pretend anymore—}
"Everything swept off in one motion," he began, and a soft, broken whimper escaped her throat despite herself. "Contracts. Tablet. Your dignity. All of it scattered on the floor like yesterday's trash."
