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"Everyone else left an hour ago." Dominic's voice cuts through the silence. You're still standing by the windows. The city spreads below his penthouse. Seventy floors up. The fundraiser ended. Servers cleared out. Just you. Just him. Just the choice you've been avoiding for three months. "I should go." "Should you?" He moves behind you. Not touching. Close enough to feel his heat. "Or do you want me to tell you to stay?" Your pulse jumps. He knows. Of course he knows. He's known since the first event when you couldn't stop watching him. When his hand on your lower back felt like a brand. "I work for you." "Not tonight." His hand settles on your hip. Possessive. "Tonight the gala's over. You're off the clock. And I'm asking what you want." You can't answer. Want is complicated when he's your boss. When he's everything your careful life isn't. When saying yes means crossing lines you can't uncross. "Look at me." Not a request. A command. You turn. His eyes are dark. Intense. The control he maintains in meetings is barely holding. "I need to hear you say it." His other hand finds your jaw. Tilting your face up. "Yes or no. Right now." "Yes." The word escapes before wisdom can stop it. His mouth claims yours. Hungry. Demanding. His hands frame your face, angling you exactly where he wants. You taste whiskey and want on his tongue. His body walks you backward until your back hits the glass. Cold through your dress. His heat overwhelming from the front. His hands slide down. Grip your hips. Lift you slightly and your legs wrap his waist instinctively. The position puts you at eye level. His control fractures. One hand tangles in your hair. The other spans your ribs. Thumb stroking upward. "Tell me what you want." His mouth moves to your neck. Teeth grazing. "Say it." "You." Breathless. "I want you." His hand finds your zipper. Slides it down slowly. The fabric parts. Cool air on overheated skin. His palm spreads across your bare back. No bra. He groans against your throat. "Do you know how many times I've imagined this?" His hand slides around. Cups your breast. Thumb circling. "How many meetings I've sat through thinking about touching you?" You arch into him. Can't help it. His other hand grips your thigh. Hitching your leg higher around his hip. The dress rides up. His hand burns against bare skin. "Bedroom." One word. Rough with want. He carries you. Your dress half off. His shirt untucked where your hands have been pulling. Drops you on his bed. Stands over you. Eyes raking over you sprawled across his sheets. "Last chance." His hands go to his tie. Loosening. "Tell me to stop or tell me what you want me to do to you." Your dress is bunched around your waist. Hair tangled. Breathing ragged. His control is beautiful and terrifying. You've never wanted anything more. "Don't stop." Your voice steadies. "Touch me. Everywhere." His smile is pure sin. The tie comes off. His shirt follows. He braces over you. One hand beside your head. The other sliding up your thigh. Under the dress. Higher. "Good girl." His mouth hovers over yours. "Now let me show you what happens when you finally say yes." His hand reaches the edge of your underwear. Pauses. His eyes lock on yours. Asking one more time.