‘Oh sweet Jesus, Livy.’ His mouth moves to my neck. He bites and sucks, my head falls back as my hold of him moves to his shoulders, and he doesn’t falter one . . . little . . . bit. The speed of his advancing hips picks up a gear. Or two. Could possibly be three. ‘Fuck!’

‘Oh God!’ I yelp, feeling the rush of blood hurling to my centre. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God! Miller!’ My hearing is muffled, my mind distorted, and I finally give up and close my eyes, leaving me blind, too. Now all I have is feeling. Lots of feelings. ‘I’m coming!’

‘Oh yes! Come for me, sweet girl.’ His face emerges from my neck and he tackles my mouth, impatiently pushing his tongue past my lips when I fail to open up to him. I’m too focused on the orgasm powering forward. It’s going to blow my world into pieces.

I begin to panic when I get stuck at a point of no return, yet not seeming to be able to capture my release. I tense everywhere. I’m rigid in his arms, only moving because of Miller’s control of our bodies. He strikes me over and over, yanking my body onto his while our mouths attack each other violently. But it won’t happen. I can’t get there, and my frustration explodes. ‘Fucking harder!’ I yell in desperation. ‘Make it happen!’ I reach up and boldly yank at his hair, making him shout as he hammers forward.

But he stops. Abruptly. My rage only multiplies by a million when he smirks at me. He’s watching me gasp unevenly all over him, feeling me squeeze him within me. He’s ready to explode, too. I can see it past the smug satisfaction of his gaze. But I’m not sure if that satisfaction is because he has me going out of my mind or because he has me on William’s desk.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his brow diverts my attention there momentarily . . . until he speaks, pulling my eyes back to his. ‘Say I’m yours,’ he orders quietly.

My pounding heart pounds harder. ‘You’re mine,’ I tell him with one hundred per cent conviction.

‘Elaborate.’

He’s holding me on the cusp of orgasm, holding us tightly together, his groin pushed against my sex the only thing keeping me there. ‘You. Belong. To. Me.’ I spell it all out for him, loving the glint of gratification that replaces the smugness. ‘Me,’ I affirm. ‘No one else gets to taste you, feel you –’ I cup his cheeks with my palms and press my lips to his, biting down a little before licking my mark – ‘or love you.’

A long moan emanates from my part-time gentleman. A happy moan. ‘Correct,’ he murmurs. ‘Lie back, sweet girl.’

I comply willingly, releasing his face and dropping to my back as I look up at him. He smiles, that glorious, dizzying smile, then circles his groin deeply and slowly, pushing me instantly over the edge. ‘Ooooh,’ I sigh, and close my eyes, my hands delving into my blonde and holding my head as it shakes from side to side.

‘I concur,’ Miller moans, shuddering above me before quickly pulling out and resting his length on my stomach. It’s only then that I realise he’s not wearing a condom.

He comes all over my tummy, his cock pulsing as it releases, and we both watch quietly.

I don’t need to say what we both know. There was no room in his consumed mind to think of protection when he pushed me into William’s office. He was thinking only of marking what’s his in the office of one of his nemeses.

Perverse? Yes. Do I care? No.

He slowly lowers his body over mine and pins me to the desk, seeking out that place on my neck he loves, nuzzling lovingly. ‘I’m sorry.’

The small smile that tickles my lips is probably as perverse as Miller’s unreasonable actions. ‘It’s . . .’

The slamming of a door resonates through the room, cutting me short, and Miller’s face slowly lifts from my neck until he’s staring down at me. The calculating smile that slowly graces that lovely mouth of his makes me bite my lip to prevent mirroring it.

Oh, God help us!

‘You arsehole.’ William’s rich voice is loaded with venom. ‘You fucking immoral arsehole.’

My eyes widen as the enormity of our situation bashes past the sick satisfaction I’m feeling. Although Miller’s sly grin remains firmly in place. He dips and kisses me chastely. ‘It was a pleasure, sweet girl.’ He lifts from my body, keeping his back to William to conceal me as he fastens his trousers. He smiles down at me, and I know it’s his way of saying not to worry. He pulls my knickers into place and arranges my dress, which is a good job because I’m arrested by anxiety, unable to make myself decent. Then he pulls me from the desk and steps to the side, exposing me to the potent anger pouring from William’s powerful frame.

Oh shit, he looks homicidal.

William’s lip curls in disgust. He’s physically shaking. And now I am, too. Not Miller, though. No. He ignores the rage and calmly pulls a chair out and turns me, pushing my unresponsive body onto the seat. ‘My lady,’ he says, making me cough at his continued arrogance. He has a death wish. He must.

I stare blankly forward and start nervously spinning my diamond on my finger, and in my peripheral vision, I see Miller making an over-the-top meal of smoothing his suit down before he takes a chair next to me. I cast him an edgy glance. He smiles. And he winks! He actually winks, making my hand shoot to my mouth as I start to snort all over the place. I try so hard to contain my giggles, try to disguise my laugh as a coughing fit. It’s such a waste of energy. There’s nothing funny about this situation. There wasn’t before Miller violated me on William’s desk, and there most definitely isn’t now. We’re both in big, big trouble. Double than what we were before we arrived.

I remain stiff and pipe down when I hear the sound of footsteps closing in, while Miller makes himself comfy, relaxing back, resting his ankle on his knee and sliding his hands down the arms of the chair. William rounds the desk, pulling my wary eyes in their sockets to follow his path. The atmosphere is just . . . horrible.

Lowering slowly to his chair, keeping pissed off grey eyes on a blasé Miller, he finally speaks. But William’s words stun me.

‘Your hair’s different.’ He turns to me, taking in my new hair, which is most likely a sexed-up mess now. My face feels damp, my body still buzzing.

‘I had it cut,’ I reply. Now that he’s turned his contempt onto me, I can feel my sass igniting.

‘By a hairdresser?’

My body starts to shift awkwardly. This isn’t good. People usually have their hair cut by a hairdresser – it goes without saying – so the fact that he’s asked doesn’t sit well. ‘Yes.’ I’m not lying. I did have my hair cut by a hairdresser . . . the morning after I hacked it off myself.

William’s hands form a steeple in front of his mouth as he watches me continue to fidget and avoid his eyes. I’m soon spared his glacial stare and words, though, when he turns them onto Miller. ‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ He’s injected some heat into his tone now, and I chance a glance at him, wondering if he’s questioning what he’s just found or what he undoubtedly knows of last night’s events at Ice.

Miller clears his throat and reaches up to casually dust his shoulder down. It’s an indifferent act and meant to be. He’s pushing William’s buttons, and while I’m guilty of doing this on many occasions, I’m not sure now would be the time. I contained my sass . . . just. Miller needs to rein his impudence in, too. ‘She’s mine,’ he says, looking up to William. ‘I’ll do with her as I please.’