Nora’s POV

“Do not move. Do not make a sound.”

Marcus Hale’s voice stayed low and absolute against the back of my neck. His cock remained buried to the hilt inside me. My palms stayed flat on the polished conference table. The master key had already turned. The door handle began to move. City lights still glittered through the glass walls, throwing our joined reflection across every dark panel. I was Nora Blake, twenty-seven, the associate who had spent two nights learning exactly how little control she still owned on this floor. The thin fabric of my skirt sat bunched around my waist. My bare cunt clenched once around him...