Chapter 34 Don't fight it
Kaden starts to stroke me, his movements frantic and desperate, a harsh rhythm that mirrors the erratic pounding of my heart. It’s faster. Rougher. Like he’s chasing something instead of measuring it. Like he’s trying to prove something...Or take it.
My eyes fall shut for a second, a curse slipping under my breath before I can stop it. My hands tighten instinctively on his thighs, grounding myself in something solid, something real.
When I force my eyes open, I find him watching me.
Taking it in.
Every shift, every reaction, every crack I’m failing to hide. My jaw tightens.
The friction turns the world into a blur of heat and static. My breathing has shattered into shallow hitches. He looks down at where he’s working me, his thumb grazing the head of my cock with a precision that makes my knees buckle. Something in his expression sharpens, like he likes what he sees. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He reaches lower, his fingers cupping me, his grip firm and possessive.
Everything narrows. Sharpens.
Burns.
“That it?” he asks, quieter now, almost curious. “That your off switch?”
My eyes snap to his.
He tilts his head, studying me like I’m something he’s figuring out in arranged sequences. My grip on him tightens further, almost like a warning, but he doesn’t stop. The sound that leaves me is involuntary. It's low and rough... Fucking petty. Immediate regret follows it.
His mouth curves slightly the second he hears it.
"Next time you start barking orders, do I just have to grab your dick to make you shut the fuck up?"
Before I can even think of a retort, before I can find a way to flip the power dynamic back in my favor, his other hand shoots up. He wraps his fingers around my neck, not enough to choke, but enough to claim. He increases the speed of his stroke, his thumb working in a rhythmic, agonizing circle that sends white-hot sparks behind my eyelids.
My brain scrambles. Everything dissolves into the sensation of his palm and the heat of his gaze. Something in me snaps tight. Not control, not even anger. Something darker.
I’m close, and part of me knows I'm supposed to hate it. Because this right here is exactly where I’m not supposed to be.
On the edge.
Out of control.
Letting someone else take me there.
I try to pull back, to wrestle it down, to reclaim something, anything, but my body isn’t listening. Every nerve is lit, every thought drowned under the sheer, overwhelming weight of sensation. I should stop this, flip it. Take it back and make him the one unraveling. But my thoughts are scattered like they were never that solid to begin with. I’m just a needy pulse.
“Don’t fight it,” Kaden instructs, voice low right against my ear, something darker threading through it. “Just let it happen. Show me exactly how much you want this...You’re already there.”
He’s right. I’m at the brink. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of white-hot pressure that’s nearly too much to bear. My vision is blurring at the edges, my fingers digging into his thighs until my knuckles turn white.
I’m right there. One more stroke. One more twist of his thumb....
And then, the world stops.
The heat vanishes. The friction is gone. Kaden’s grip loosens, his fingers uncurling and letting go entirely. I’m left standing there, my cock twitching, hungry, and aching with a brutal, unfinished need that makes my entire lower body throb in protest.
"What—" I start, my voice a wrecked, disoriented rasp. I blink, trying to clear the static from my brain, only to find Kaden smirking at me. Not wide or obvious but just enough. Like he’s privately won something. And before I can react, he uses the hand still wrapped around my neck to give me a firm, demeaning shove backward. I stumble half a step, my head spinning as he slides off the desk with a grace I currently lack.
He stands there, adjusting the hem of that fitted black shirt. Then he gives a small, almost careless shrug, gesturing briefly downward.
"Wardrobe will have a fit if I get these clothes messy," he says, his voice regaining that effortless, mocking lilt.
I swallow hard, the reality of the room crashing back in. I glance at the scattered documents on my desk, then down at my open trousers, feeling the cold air hit my skin like a physical insult. I’m a heartbeat away from snarling at him, from lunging across the space to show him exactly what happens when he teases me, when a sharp knock echoes through the door.
The sound is like a gunshot.
Kaden and I freeze, locked in a silent, vibrating stare-down. For all his boldness, I can see the flicker of genuine, wide-eyed panic deep in his pupils. He’s pretending not to care, but his chest is still heaving, and he’s just realized we’re possibly inches away from a scandal.
The knock comes again, slightly more insistent this time.
"What?!" I bark, the word exploding out of me as I frantically tuck myself away and fumble with my belt. My hands are still shaking, my skin still on fire.
"I’m so sorry, Sir," Sylvie’s muffled voice comes through the wood, sounding terrified. "The producer... he’s asking if you've finished your meeting with Kaden? He says the weather looks like it might turn, and they need to get the final shots before the light goes."
I look at Kaden. He’s standing there, his mask of defiance held together by a single, fraying thread.
"He'll be right there," I call out, my voice miraculously steady despite the fact that my heart is trying to kick its way out of my ribs.
We both stand frozen, listening to the fading click of her heels. I hadn't even heard her approach. Kaden doesn't wait for an invitation to leave. He starts toward the door, his stride regaining that loose, arrogant roll, though the tension in his shoulders betrays him.
"You know this only makes it worse, don't you?" I say, my voice dropping into a low, register that stops him mid-step. "Leaving me like this... it just means I’m going to seek you out to finish the job later."
He stops with his hand on the brass lever of the door. He doesn't turn around fully, he just tilts his head slightly to the side, the sharp line of his profile cutting through the light of the office.
"You're clearly used to people folding the second you open your mouth," he says, his voice dry and unimpressed. "But news flash, you’re just a guy in a nice suit. And frankly? I've met tougher men in dive bars."
I let out a short, jagged breath that might have been a laugh if I weren't so high on adrenaline. "Then I guess I’ll just have to take the suit off, Kaden. It’s been getting in the way of what I wanna do to you anyway."
He scoffs, a huffed sound of disbelief, then shakes his head, his fingers tightening on the handle.
"Good luck with that," he mutters.
He wrenches the door open and walks out without looking back. I’m left standing in the sudden, ringing silence, my pulse still screaming and my skin still burning where he touched me.