The three of us wanted her, had for years. But good intentions and professionalism kept us in check. She was our secretary but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be ours.
We’d been celibate for years because Sophia was the one.
The one we wanted in our lives.
The one who put all other women to shame.
The one woman we’d gladly share.
It was time we showed her that in all reality … she was in charge.
Warning: Loosen those ties and hold the calls, because this office romance features one lucky lady and three very devoted men. If you like celibate heroes who only want one woman, a definite SAFE read, and packed full of dirty goodness, this is the story for you.
We’d been celibate for years because Sophia was the one.
The one we wanted in our lives.
The one who put all other women to shame.
The one woman we’d gladly share.
It was time we showed her that in all reality … she was in charge.
Warning: Loosen those ties and hold the calls, because this office romance features one lucky lady and three very devoted men. If you like celibate heroes who only want one woman, a definite SAFE read, and packed full of dirty goodness, this is the story for you.
I watched as she moved around my living room. The floor to ceiling windows showed an incredible view of the city from my penthouse apartment. Grayson and Deacon weren’t here yet, which gave me ample time to appreciate the view of Sophia.
She was currently standing in front of a painting, onethat was abstract, colors and emotion splattered across the canvas. It was from a relatively new artist, unknown to most, but spectacular. As soon as I’d seen it I’d wanted it, just like it had gone down when I’d seen Sophia.
I stepped behind her, feeling like a bastard over the fact I’d given her the ruse of needing her here tonight to take dictation for us. But I knew she hadn’t bought that for one moment. I knew she’d looked at my eyes, heard the need in my voice, felt my desire in my touch. Sophia was a smart woman. Deacon had already made his move, and Grayson wasn’t far behind.
We saw the way she watched us. It was with the same intensity as we watched her. I lowered my gaze to the curve of her neck. She’d put her hair back up in a messy bun,wisps falling along her temples and nape.
I pushed those strands away and leaned in, inhaling deeply, smelling the floral scent that was all her. I could see goosebumps forming on her skin, and I found myself leaning in and running my lips along her flesh.
“This is insane,” she whispered.
“What is?” I asked, my mouth still on her neck.
“This. All of this. Everything.” Her voice was soft, nervous. She turned around, her eyes wide as she stared at me. “I feel like I’m in a race, my car going from zero to sixty in a second. I might have whiplash.”
I chuckled. I couldn’t deny we’d pounced on her like ravenous wolves.
“It’s insta-everything to the max,” she said in that soft voice once more.
“Is that bad?” I lifted my hand and ran my thumb along her cheek.
“It’s just confusing.” She was breathing harder, faster. “You never even acted like you wanted more. None of you did.” She swallowed, her throat working.
“Surely you saw the way we looked at you, watched you?”
She licked her lips and I was riveted to the spot. “Yes, but I thought maybe it was just my imagination.”
I grinned.
“And then the kiss, and the touches, and you’re so … close to me.” She swallowed again.
I moved a step closer. She was pressed to the wall, her back to the picture now. “Do you want me to stop? We could go over dictation if you want.”
“I thought that’s why you wanted me here,” she whispered, but I could tell she was smarter than that. I could hear it in her voice that she didn’t want that either.
I pulled her in close to me, my hands wrapped around her tucked-in waist, and buried my face in the crook of her neck. She was soft and warm, perfect and mine.
Ours.
“Let me make you feel good,” I whispered against her throat.
“Yes.” She moaned that lone word out.
I brought her over to the couch, but before I gently set her down I helped her out of her shirt and jeans. Yeah, this was probably going so fucking fast her head was spinning, but I was done waiting to have her. I knew all three of us were. I wanted Sophia like I wanted to breathe. And if she would have said slow down, if she would have said go easy, take your time, I would have in an instant. She was it for me, had been since the moment I saw her walk into our office.
Once she was just in her bra and panties I took a step back and stared at her. She was curves and soft skin, the sweet floral scent of her making me drunk. The mounds of her breasts were pushed up and over the edge of her lacy bra, and my fingers itched to touch her, to run the pads over her skin. And I didn’t stop myself. I did just that. I cupped her breast, the mound heavy, full.
I ended up leaning in and running the tip of my nose along her cleavage. I groaned, my cock jerking, pre-cum starting to make a damp spot on my briefs. I needed out of my jeans, needed to feel her bare body pressed against mine. I growled low, my resistance snapping. I started tearing at my clothing until I was stark naked. Then I looked at her body again, reached down and grabbed my cock, stroking the fucker from root to tip.
“Tell me to stop if this is going too fast.” I stared into her eyes, saw the reality of what she wanted, her need and desire.
“I won’t do that,” she said softly. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my entire life.”
I made this sound deep in my throat, one I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. I had her out of her bra and panties seconds later, had her laying back on the couch, her legs spread. I looked at her parted thighs, her pussy bared of hair, her cream glistening under the dim lights.
“I’m going to fucking devour you, Sophia,” I said as I got down on my haunches. “I’m going to eat you out until you come all over my mouth, until you’re pulling at my hair and screaming my name out.” I had my hands on her inner thighs, keeping her legs open for me. “And when I’m done Grayson and Deacon will have their turn. They’ll show you how much you mean to them, how you’re ours. Only ours.”
“Yes.”
“You want that?” I asked, demanded.
“Yes. God, yes.”
And then I leaned in and ran my tongue through her slit, licking her like she was an ice cream cone melting on a hot summer day. If I weren’t already drunk from the feel, scent, and flavor of her, I would have been so in that very moment as her flavor coated my tongue.
Mila Crawford is a book lover and has been around them one way or another her whole life. She is a fan of happily ever afters, sassy heroines, over the top alphas, and most of all safe reads.
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