Management Skills by January Rowe

under her cropped sweater. A quiver surged through her veins.
    “Will you please let me pass?” She was begging him now. He promised he wouldn’t interfere with her job. He promised. “Please, I have a flight to catch. I’m going to Saint Louis.”
    “You packed?”
    “Yes.”
    “What time is your flight?” His dark eyes were hungry, proprietary.
    “Two-thirty.”
    He hooked a finger under her collar and yanked her toward him. “Then you’ve got time.”
    He’d never dominated her with his physicality before. Her knees nearly buckled. “Sir.”
    His finger still curved under her collar, he drew her closer. He kissed her, sweeping her up in a haze of desire and submission. The kiss wasn’t exploratory or gentle, like the touch on her belly ring; his mouth and tongue told her she was his. His to control, his to tease, his to pleasure. White-hot lightning surged from his lips to her stomach, all the way down to the soles of her feet.
    He let go of her collar and reached under her sweater to cradle one lace-covered breast. His masculine scent of woods enveloping her, he continued to kiss her. He pinched her nipple through the lace. Her passion exploded. He broke the kiss. Closing her eyes, she moaned, throwing her head back and gripping his hard biceps.
    He whispered into her arched neck. “You’re so tempting.”
    He began to strip off her clothing. Slowly. Too slowly. He stopped to drag his teeth over her tender skin. He paused to nibble and bite. She loved it. And hated it. She couldn’t bear another minute of his long, painful foreplay as he undressed her. Her heart beat wildly. She couldn’t get enough air.
    And then, finally, she stood naked in the machine room, bare except for her collar. He devoured her body with his hot gaze, making her feel as if she was the only woman in the universe. Any thoughts of catching a flight—of a life beyond this moment—burned to ash.
    He dragged a condom foil out of his wallet. Holding it in his teeth, he stripped naked. He was big and beautiful, corded with muscle. A sigh shuddered through her. His erection was enormous. Just looking at his rigid, straining cock made her body scream for release.
    But begging her owner to have mercy would be futile. He wouldn’t give her release until he’d ratcheted up her arousal to explosive levels.
    Still holding the foil in his teeth, he scooped her up in his strong arms. He carried her over to a large silver table crammed with parts and tools. He lowered her to sit on a bare spot on the hip-high metal surface.
    “It’s cold!” she shrieked.
    His deep-set eyes smoldering with indigo fire, he swept the table clean of cable, hubs and cardboard boxes. A screwdriver clanged to the floor. “Lie back, Mine.”
    She obeyed and lay down on the icy table, shivering, waiting.
    In one smooth, easy movement, he straddled her. He placed the condom packet in the valley between her swollen breasts. The foil edges poked into her skin, reminding her that her fulfillment would be at his pleasure, not hers.
    “You’re cruel,” she whimpered.
    His eyes met hers. They sparked with a strange, satisfied light. He loved her sensual misery. He couldn’t get enough of bringing her to the edge and jerking her back, and then, finally, tearing her apart with orgasm after orgasm.
    His hands seared a path to her belly ring and roamed intimately over the jewelry. She squirmed beneath him. He inserted his little finger into the ring and pulled gently. Stinging desire and pain pooling in her loins, her body surged toward his. A molten haze of hunger swirled in her brain.
    “Please don’t tease me anymore, Sir.”
    “If only we had more time.” He released the ring.
    He dipped his head to hers. She felt his erection, hot and hard, against her bare stomach. His testicles pressed against her mound. She moaned under him, shifting his weight to just the right spot.
    “I can’t take it anymore,” she said.
    She ground against him. Fire consumed her.