Ms. Carter," he said suddenly, his voice smooth and authoritative, addressing her without breaking the meeting's rhythm. "Can you pull up the Q3 projections?"
The executives turned to her, oblivious to the storm brewing below. Eva's lips curved into a faint smile, her voice steady despite the heat pooling between her thighs. "Of course, Mr. Blackwood," she said, tapping her tablet with one hand while her other slid under the table, finding his thigh. Her nails dug into the fabric of his trousers, a silent retaliation, and she felt him tense, his grip on her calf tightening.
She projected the data onto the screen, her movements precise, but beneath the table, their game escalated. Victor's hand slid higher, his fingers brushing the hem of her skirt, teasing the bare skin of her thigh. Eva's pulse raced, her body responding with a flush of warmth, but she didn't flinch. She leaned forward slightly, as if studying the projections, and let her hand drift higher on his thigh, her fingers grazing the hard outline of him through his trousers. His breath caught, a sound so faint only she could hear, and his eyes flicked to hers, dark with warning and desire.
"Interesting numbers," one of the executives droned, oblivious to the silent war. "But I think we need to adjust the risk assessment."
Victor's voice was a low rumble, betraying nothing. "Agreed. Ms. Carter, make a note to revise the risk parameters."
"Yes, sir," Eva said, her tone deferential, but her hand squeezed him lightly, a bold move that made his eyes flash. His fingers retaliated, slipping beneath her skirt, tracing the edge of her panties with a slow, deliberate touch that sent a jolt through her. She bit her lip, fighting a moan, her thighs parting slightly to give him access, a surrender she hadn't planned.
The meeting dragged on, a torturous dance of words and numbers, while beneath the table, their touches grew bolder, more reckless. Victor's fingers slipped beneath the lace, finding her wet and ready, and he teased her with a slow, circling motion that made her vision blur. Eva's hand tightened on him, stroking through the fabric, feeling him harden under her touch. Their eyes met again, a shared secret burning between them, a promise of what would come when the room emptied.
When the meeting finally adjourned, the executives filed out, their chatter fading down the hall. Eva stayed seated, her tablet forgotten, her body thrumming with need. Victor didn't move, his hand still beneath her skirt, his touch unrelenting. The door clicked shut, leaving them alone, the silence heavy with anticipation.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he said, his voice low and rough, his fingers pausing but not withdrawing. "In my boardroom, no less."
Eva leaned closer, her lips hovering near his, her hand still on him, stroking slowly. "You started it," she said, her voice a sultry challenge. "Don't tell me you want to stop."
His eyes darkened, and he pulled her chair closer, his hand sliding deeper, his fingers entering her with a slow, deliberate thrust. Eva gasped, her hips bucking, her hands gripping the table for support. "Victor," she moaned, her voice raw, her body surrendering to the pleasure he wrought.
"That's it," he growled, his lips brushing her ear, his fingers moving faster, coaxing her toward the edge. "Let go, Eva. Right here, where anyone could walk in."
The risk, the forbidden nature of it, sent her spiraling. She came with a muffled cry, her body shaking, her nails digging into his arm. Victor watched her, his gaze intense, drinking in every shudder, every gasp, as if her pleasure was his victory. When she stilled, he withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting her with a slow, deliberate lick that made her pulse race.
"You're mine," he said, his voice a possessive rumble. "Don't forget it."
Eva's lips curved, a reckless smile born of adrenaline and desire. "We'll see," she said, adjusting her skirt, her body still humming. "This game's not over."
He chuckled, dark and dangerous, but let her stand, his eyes promising more. As she left the boardroom, her legs shaky, she felt the weight of his gaze, a tether she couldn't escape. Liam and Sophia were out there, plotting, but here, in Victor's world, she was a force, and she'd use every weapon at her disposal.
**The Cabin**
Victor's office was a fortress of power, its glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city, its dark wood and leather exuding authority. Eva stepped inside that afternoon, a stack of reports in her arms, her professional façade firmly in place. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound a signal that the world outside ceased to exist. Victor was at his desk, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the corded strength of his forearms. His eyes flicked up, locking onto hers, and the air thickened, charged with the memory of the boardroom.
"Reports," she said, her voice crisp, placing the files on his desk. But her movements were deliberate, her hips swaying slightly, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of lace. She leaned forward, giving him a view, and felt his gaze linger, hot and unyielding.
"Efficient," he said, his voice low, but he didn't touch the reports. Instead, he stood, rounding the desk with the grace of a predator, stopping inches from her. "But I didn't call you in here for paperwork."
Her pulse quickened, but she held his gaze, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "Then what did you call me for, Mr. Blackwood?" she asked, her tone laced with challenge.
He didn't answer with words. His hand shot out, gripping her waist, pulling her against him so she could feel the hard evidence of his desire. His lips crashed into hers, a kiss that was all heat and hunger, his tongue claiming her mouth with a ferocity that left her dizzy. Eva moaned, her hands fisting in his shirt, her body melting into his as he backed her against the desk, the reports scattering to the floor.
"F*ck, Eva," he growled, breaking the kiss to nip at her throat, his hands sliding under her skirt, finding the lace of her panties. "You've been driving me insane all day."
"Good," she said, her voice a sultry purr, her fingers working his belt, freeing him with a speed born of need. "I want you to lose control."
He groaned, his hands gripping her thighs, lifting her onto the desk. Her skirt rode up, her panties pushed aside, and he entered her in one swift thrust, filling her completely. Eva's cry was loud, unrestrained, her legs wrapping around his waist as he moved, each thrust deep and relentless. The desk creaked, the glass walls a silent witness to their frenzy, the city sprawling below oblivious to the storm within.
"Victor," she gasped, her nails raking his back, her body arching to meet him. "Harder."
He obliged, his pace brutal, his hands gripping her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race. His lips found her breast, sucking through the lace of her bra, the sensation sharp and electric. Eva's moans grew louder, her body trembling as pleasure coiled tight, her climax building with every thrust.
"You're mine," he said, his voice rough, his eyes locked on hers. "Say it."
"I'm yours," she gasped, the words tearing from her, raw and honest. "F*ck, Victor, I'm yours."
The confession pushed him over the edge. His thrusts grew erratic, his groan primal as he spilled inside her, his body shuddering. Eva followed, her climax shattering, her cry muffled against his shoulder as waves of ecstasy tore through her. They collapsed against the desk, breathless, tangled, the world beyond the glass fading away.
For a moment, they stayed there, his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. But reality crept back—Liam's message, Sophia's venom, the war Eva was fighting. She pulled away, adjusting her skirt, her heart racing with a mix of desire and doubt.
Victor watched her, his eyes searching. "This isn't just a game, Eva," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Not anymore."
She wanted to believe him, wanted to let herself feel something real, but the weight of her revenge was too heavy. "Maybe," she said, forcing a smile. "But I'm not done playing."
He chuckled, but his eyes held a promise—a vow that he'd fight for her, even if she fought against herself. As she left his office, her body still humming, Eva knew the truth: Victor was no longer just a weapon. He was a fire, and she was burning in it, unsure if she'd emerge whole.
But Liam and Sophia were out there, and she'd make them pay, even if it meant losing herself in the flames.