Christmas on the Thirteenth Floor (A Holinight Novella) by Lee Jacquot

Author:Lee Jacquot [Jacquot, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-09T05:00:00+00:00

I hate my boss. I do. Really. I know what transpired in the elevator may contradict everything I’m saying—what I’ve always said—but I mean it. He was just too dominating, too powerful and all-consuming for me to do anything but melt under his commands.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m not a weak woman. I’m not someone who dry humps people she hates in a freaking elevator, but I wasn’t thinking. My mind was complete and utter mush, ruled by the fire rolling in my body and acting of its own accord.

Did I like it? Oh, my God, yes.

Did I want to stop? Also... no. No, I didn’t.

But what just happened goes beyond anything I even consider outside the walls of my wildest fantasies.

He... I... my free hand lifts to my swollen bottom lip.

Even though realization begins to settle in, my head can’t physically wrap around what we did. What I let him do. Hell, what I wished he would do. And my prickling skin from where our arms are currently connected proves that I wanted him.

I’m still on fire everywhere his hands were and everywhere I wanted them to be. And God, I wanted—want—him. More than I have ever wanted anyone in my entire life.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Roman Chen is a complete and utter asshole. He moves to a tune of his own, that no one around him is good enough to hear, and he couldn’t give two shits about anyone else but himself.

If that’s the only truth, then why do I feel like I was everything to him in that elevator. As if I consumed him as much as he did me? That I had him on the brink of his own sanity?

I swallow down over the thick lump in my throat and exit the cabin, keeping my pace in tandem with his. But the second my other foot drops, the very real awareness that there are two little balls nestled in my pussy hits me. No, like literally hits me.

My steps falter as the small jostle of the metal pushes them against my clenching walls, the intense sensation making my insides coil. He pauses, allowing me a moment to adjust, if that’s even possible, and I have to shift at least three times and take double the deep breaths before I’m ready to walk again.

His stance is straight and unbothered as we near the doors, his hand running through his hair to fix the wayward mess I left it in. My eyes trace the movement, my clit pulsing around both the Ben Wa knowing how his hands feel grabbing at my body.

As though he can read my thoughts, he smirks, his dark eyes flashing to me in his periphery. “I know you can do it for me, darling.”

My breath stutters at his words, and the desire—the need—to show him I can do it engulfs me. I want him to be proud of me.

What the fuck is happening?

His arm slips from mine to open the door,

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