Cassandra's breath hitched when Tyrese's lips left her breasts, but she was still not ready to stop. His mouth was hot and insistent, leaving a trail of warm wetness across her skin as he kissed down her stomach. The air in the private room felt thick, the heat from the lamps hanging above them almost unbearable.
He straightened up, eyes locking with hers as he hovered just above her. His cock pressed insistently against the fabric of his sweatpants, already hard again. Cassandra could feel her pulse thumping in her throat, the undeniable urge to give in. But she wasn't quite ready to let him have everything—no, not yet.
"Tyrese," she murmured, her voice soft but firm. "I don't fuck my employees."
He gave her a smirk, cocky and confident, as if he didn't care about the rules she tried to set. He reached up, gently pushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear.
"No rules, remember?" he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. "You don't need to fuck me to let me make you feel good."
Her chest rose as she took in a sharp breath. His words were dangerous, tempting. They sent a shiver down her spine, pooling heat low in her stomach. Her hands twitched, wanting to reach out and touch him, to claim control. But she held herself back, knowing he was watching her every move, waiting for the moment she cracked.
"Don't be so sure of yourself," Cassandra said with a teasing smile, her fingers brushing against his bare chest. "I'm not like the others."
He chuckled, low and deep, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts again, squeezing gently as he kissed her forehead. "You're better," he said. "More dangerous."
She bit her lip, torn between wanting to pull him closer and the need to maintain control. It wasn't just her body she needed to keep in check—it was her reputation, her carefully cultivated image. But in that moment, Tyrese made her forget all of it. His lips, his touch, his presence—he unraveled her carefully constructed composure with each heated breath between them.
Tyrese lowered himself to his knees again, his hands pressing into the soft curve of her hips, urging her to sit further back against the chaise lounge. She complied, arching slightly to give him better access. He smirked up at her, his eyes dark with intent, and slowly began kissing her thighs.
She let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the chaise. He took his time, his lips brushing against her inner thighs, barely grazing the edges of her panties. Cassandra's body responded against her will, her legs falling open slightly, giving him more room. He kissed her again, his mouth moving teasingly closer to the fabric of her panties.
Her breath quickened. Her hips moved of their own accord, a silent plea for him to touch her, to go further. But Tyrese remained patient, his tongue flicking out, teasing the fabric just enough to make her moan softly.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," Cassandra admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I think I have a pretty good idea," Tyrese replied with a grin that sent heat flooding her veins. His hands gripped the waistband of her panties, sliding them down slowly. The moment the fabric was free, he took a long, deliberate look at her wetness, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Damn, you're soaked."
She didn't need to speak. Her body had already given him the answer.
Tyrese leaned in closer, his lips brushing the soft skin of her inner thighs. He kissed up the length of her leg, trailing higher, close enough to feel the heat from her core, but not quite touching it. Cassandra's breath hitched, her body desperate for more.
"Please," she gasped, her hand tangling in his hair, urging him closer.
"Please, what?" he asked, his voice rough with desire, knowing exactly what she wanted.
"Touch me," she whispered, her voice breaking with want. "Make me feel good."
His mouth parted, but instead of giving her what she begged for, he slid a finger up her thigh, just barely grazing her slick folds. She groaned, her body trembling with frustration.
"You like the tease, huh?" he asked, looking up at her with a wicked smile. "I'll give you what you want… but only if you're ready to beg for it."
Her pulse raced, heat pooling between her legs. She was losing herself to him, to the feeling of being out of control.
"I'm not begging," she said through gritted teeth, though the challenge in her voice was shaky at best. She tried to keep her composure, tried to remind herself that she didn't need him, that she didn't have to let him ruin her boundaries. But it was so hard to think clearly when all she could focus on was the way he was making her feel—how he made her ache for more.
He pressed a single finger into her slit, just enough to send shockwaves through her system. Her back arched involuntarily, the sensation of him touching her sending her mind spinning. "You're gonna beg, Cassandra," he said, his voice rough, his finger slowly sliding deeper.
But before she could form a response, he pulled away, his grin spreading wider as he stood up.
"I'm not gonna make this easy on you," he said. "You've gotta work for it, babe."
Cassandra bit her lip, trying to rein in the rush of need coursing through her. She knew she was already slipping, already craving what he had to offer. But the control, the power, the ability to hold her own—she wasn't willing to lose that so easily.
"Fine," she said, her voice low and commanding. "But you're not leaving here until I get what I want."
He gave her a wicked grin and stepped back.
"Then we've got all night."