Chapter 106 REMINDING HER WHO'S IN CHARGE.

Chapter 106 REMINDING HER WHO'S IN CHARGE.
DANTE.
When I returned to my office, I felt completely lost. My mind struggled to process anything, and no matter how hard I tried to piece together the problem in front of me, I couldn't succeed. To pass the time, I kept myself busy.
The meetings were just noise.
All of them.
Words floated around the table while I sat inside my own thoughts, gazing at the surface of things without engaging with any of it. Tate spoke, numbers flashed on screens, and someone laughed at something trivial.
I nodded.
Signed whatever was placed in front of me.
Checked my watch for the fourteenth time. Finally, it was four in the evening.
Standing, "we'll finish tomorrow."
No one argued because I was already walking towards the exit.
It took me less than five minutes to get to her door.
Her office light was still on. I could see it shining from under the door. The rest of the floor felt empty because almost everyone had ended their day.
I knocked once and opened the door before she answered.
She sat at her desk, her head bent over a document with a pen moving swiftly across the page, hair falling over one shoulder. At some point, she'd taken off her heels, they lay on their sides by the chair leg.
She glanced up at me.
There was a flash of something in her eyes, brief yet distinct.l.
"I was just finishing—"
"We're done." I stepped inside and placed my briefcase on the visitor's chair with my jacket on top.
"Dante, I have my car—"
"I know."
"So there’s no reason to—"
"Cinnamon." I met her gaze. "Let’s go."
She set her pen down and leaned back in her chair, looking at me with those eyes that always seemed to see right through whatever facade I put up to uncover what was truly beneath it all.
Her lip curled slowly, a familiar expression.
My pulse quickened.
"I don't think," she said cautiously, "that you have that privilege right now to be calling the shots, Dante."
A smile crept onto my face. She's trying me.
She noticed it immediately, her jaw locking as she recognized what that smile meant. She’d always understood its significance.
Not uttering another word, I walked toward the door and locked it.
I walked over to the window panel on the wall and found the remote. I pressed it. The glass shifted, a slow frost spreading across the windows, obscuring the open-plan office outside until it vanished from sight. I turned around. She hadn’t moved. She was still at her desk.
"Maybe," I said, taking a slow step around the desk as I walked back to her, "you need reminding of certain things."
"Mr. Moretti—"
"Because this attitude—" I tilted my head, "needs attending to."
Her palms rested flat on the desk, pressing down to steady herself. Her breathing had slightly shifted but I recognized it as well as I knew everything about her. The faint quickening, the conscious effort to manage it.
She was disarmed.
She just hadn't acknowledged it yet.
"Get on the table," I commanded. "Arch your back. Hands behind you."
She lifted her chin. "Why would I do anything for you right now?"
"Don't make me ask twice."
She looked at me with an expression that seemed to say 'come and try.'
I accepted the challenge.
I moved toward her, placing my hands firmly at her waist without hesitation, lifting her to a standing position in one smooth motion.
She gasped.
Turning her, I guided her toward the table as she resisted. Naturally, she fought back, pushing with her hands and twisting her body.
I let her resist.
I loved it when she did.
My hand found the center of her back, applying gentle pressure with my palm until she stilled.
I took off my tie in a single pull, the fabric hissing through my collar.
I urged her forward onto the desk, bending her over.
My hands slid down the backs of her arms, bringing her wrists together and crossing them at the small of her back before looping the tie around them. As soon as I finished, she tested it, pulling apart to assess what freedom she had.
Not much.
The knot held firm.
"Dante—"
Hearing her whisper my name sent the last restraint in my body snapping, my cock hardening fully.
I ran my hand up the back of her thigh. Slow. Starting at the knee, traveling up, learning the warmth of her skin through the sheer fabric of her stockings until the fabric ended and she was bare and the hem of her skirt had ridden up and there was a red thong sitting right at the edge of everything.
I stood still for a moment just breathing.
She felt me stop. Her hips shifted in annoyance, wiggling for me to continue.
I bent down and kissed her bare curves.
Cinnamon moaned, jerking forward. It came from somewhere deep in her chest and it went straight through me like current.
Her legs moved, parting on their own accord.
"There she is," I said against her skin.
"Don't—"
"I know." I straightened. My palm moved over her. "I'll take care of that ache. But first—"
Without warning, I brought my hand down and smacked her left ass.
"Mm."
I did it again, this time on other side. Rubbed the warmth into her skin and felt the heat against my skin.
She pushed back against my hand, wanting more. She was losing that battle. The column of her throat moved as she swallowed.
I leaned over her back. Close enough that my mouth was near her ear, making sure I fanned her with my breathing.
"I'm sorry for making you worry."
Just the words, nothing more than my intention.
I noticed her swallow.
Her forehead lowered to the desk.
She didn’t respond.
"If it's too overwhelming," I said, "just let me know."
She nodded.
"Say it."
"Okay." It was barely audible.
"No, sweetheart." I kissed her shoulder again. "Here, call me sir. Tell me you understand."
She didn't reply. I waited, thinking she wasn't buying this roleplay. Maybe she hadn't fully given in and was still upset with me. I felt like I had just messed things up even more.
To my surprise, she said, "Yes, sir," and chuckled, adding, "that suits you."
My hand came down on her ass again making her lurch forward. She laughed freely and my heart unlocked.
There.
There she was.
My hand worked after that on both sides, steady rhythm, her body rocking with each one, the sounds she made dissolving into each other until they weren't sounds anymore but one continuous thing. Her fingers found the edge of the desk and gripped it. Her knuckles went white.
I watched her.
All of her.
The way her spine curved. The flush creeping up the backs of her thighs. The way her breath had completely abandoned any pretense of being controlled, coming now in short broken pulls, her whole body moving with me instead of against me.
I stopped..
Her body trembled beneath my hand.
"Have you learned your lesson?" I asked.
My fingers moved inward.
Found the thin fabric between her thighs.
She gasped.
The sound hit the quiet room and stayed there.
She was soaked through.
Completely.
The fabric was useless. Barely a suggestion. I could feel every ridge of her through it, could feel her pulse, could feel her need pressing outward.
"I've—" She groaned. "Learned. Yes."
"Yeah?"
She nodded against the desk.
"Say it properly."
"Yes." She breathed. "Sir."
I moved my fingers, pulling the fabric aside. Cinnamon shook. Her pussy was silk. She was burning. She was making sounds into the surface of the desk that were going to live in my memory for the rest of my life.
"I love you on this table," I said. Low. Just for her. "Look at you. Red and wet and still trying to be difficult."
My fingers slid up and down her slick folds.
My brain couldn't compute anything anymore. All I wanted was her.
She growled, low and sexy. More like an approving rumble.
“I love you on this table,” I murmured. “Look at you. Red. Wet. Still pretending you want to fight me.”
I felt the leaking of precum from my cock. I hope I didn't leave stains on my pants.
I took my fingers coated in her pussy's juice to her mouth.
Her eyes found mine.
Glazed. Dark. All that anger still there but underneath it now, was desire.
"Open your mouth."
Her lips parted.
I slid my fingers into her mouth, watching her close her mouth around them
She gently licked every corner clean, moaning into it, wrapping her red tongue on my finger. Her eyes held mine the whole time, not breaking the gaze, not once.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
I pulled my fingers back, bent over her, mouth to her ear.
"You're such a good Sweetpea. Now, let me fuck you into a good mood."
My hands moved to her hips.
"And then we're going home."