Thirty Six.

My body feels like it is floating on air as he continues to stroke my tongue with his. He tastes like bourbon with a hint of Salmon.

Exotic and rich.

I run my fingers through his jet black hair with my eyes squeezed shut.

I want him.

I want him so badly that my sex is throbbing.

I kiss him, matching his fever knowing that this will be the last time I feel his lips on mine. If he has truly done a deep dive into my background it is only a matter of time before he will see my medical history stating that I have given birth only a few months ago.

He turns me around, the heat of his body envelops me, and he continues to kiss me while rubbing the pad of his thumb across my swollen lips. He plants feather-light kisses along the crook of my neck, driving my entire body into a spasm of tingles.

I moan as I lean into him and tilt my neck to the side, granting him easier access to nibble and suck on my sensitive skin.

"We should stop this now before we do something we both will regret afterwards." I moan, trying to convince myself that I don't want this.

But I do.

I so desperately want his hands and lips touching me. Drawing a map all over my body that will align the stars in my eyes and bring me to a toe-curling orgasm.

'Just once' My inner Goddess sighs.

Just once she implores, persuading me to stop thinking about the future and focus on the now.

His hand glides up my body, brushing past my pebbled nipples, triggering me to inhale sharply and squeeze my legs together.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, desperately trying to muffle the screams of pleasure that so eagerly want to escape past my lips.

"Don't think, askim. (My love) Just feel.." His teeth nip at my earlobes. "Let me make you feel good." He says in his rich accent that drives me wild with lust.

His touch is enough to send my body over the edge, but I want more... I need more..

"Please, Mr Burak..." I plead breathlessly.

In one motion, he wraps his arms around my waist, pinning me flush to him, while his other hand skims down between my breasts and over my stomach before he dips his fingers into my arousal glossed thong.

"Say my name." He growls in a raspy tone.

"Mr Burak...." I pant as his fingers brush across my clit.

(No.) "Hayir, you know my name, say it.. Mila." He sinks his teeth into my shoulder, leaving a trail of pain in his wake but amplifying the pleasure he is inflicting on me.

"Aydem.. Gods!... Aydem..." I cry out, running my hand along his arm that was slowly bringing me to my knees.

The thought of him taking me feels demeaning. It makes me feel cheap after all the sexual abuse I have been through with Trent, but I've never felt like this either.

He makes me feel horny!

So horny that I'm shamelessly grinding against him and when he inserts a finger inside of me, I feel the walls of my pussy sucking him in deeper.

I rest my head against his chest, moaning with every thrust and my head moves wildly from side to side as I wrap my other arm around the back of his neck.

I hold him tightly to me as he continues to move his thumb in a circular motion, dipping a second finger inside of me.

He begins to finger fuck me faster.

A delicious pressure starts building in the pit of my stomach; my orgasm is quickly approaching, but I don't want to cum like this.

"I need more, Aydem," I whisper roughly.

A soft chuckle leaves his lips, "Take what you need from me."

He gently removes his fingers from my dripping core and I moan with the sudden sensation of feeling empty.

He kisses my cheek, I turn to face him, leaning against the glass window and watch him with lust-filled eyes as he sticks his fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.

"I knew you'd taste like a honeycomb." He purs, licking his lips and he reaches out stroking the side of my face.

I begin unbuttoning his vest, slipping it down his arms, untying his tie and tossing it on the floor, and removing his shirt swiftly.

I watch my hands move across his broad chest, feeling every inch of muscling his torso has as I glide my fingers over his abdomen.

"Beni Burada öldürüyorsun, bebeğim." (You're killing me here, baby." He says in his mother tongue which turns me on even more.

The thought of him mumbling incoherently in his native tongue convinces me that I have the same impact on him.

He grabs my hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and he presses a kiss against my knuckles.

"Are you sure, you want this?" He asks in a tender voice.

I look into his eyes, and even though my body is screaming 'YES' my heart is crying 'NO' this suddenly feels wrong.

A shudder travels up my spine, reintroducing me to the brutal truth of my existence.

This isn't some normal office fling.

I was sent here to destroy him by the Italian mafia. There is no room for flings or romance in my life and the quicker I learn to accept my fate the better.

Besides,

I have something that belongs to him and if he finds out about Sandro he can use this moment against me in court along with my affiliation with the Esposito family.

"Why did you have to do that?" I whine, stepping back from him.

"What do you mean?" He looks at me with confusion and a scowl on his handsome face.

"That.." I throw my hand up in the air and pick up my bag from the floor, slipping it over my shoulder.

"I don't understand what I've done wrong"

"Why did you have to sound so-"

He storms over towards me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Don't do this." He sighs out loud.

I place both hands on his chest, "Mr Burak, please, release me." I swallow loudly, feeling myself getting all emotional.

"I will, once you tell me what's going on." He mutters with an undertone of annoyance.

"I realise I've had too much to drink and I will regret this in the morning." I push against his bare chest.

He leans in, brushing his lips against mine and I slowly feel the fight leave my body. So, I do the unthinkable, running my fingers through his hair and I pull hard until he curses, releasing me.

I rush towards the door, yanking it open, and as I exit his office I hear a faint chuckle following me to the set of elevators.

The doors glide open, and as they begin to close, I catch a glimpse of him running towards me, buttoning up his shirt.

"Yakında görüşürüz, prenses." (See you soon, princess.) He growls, winking at me at the same time and I advert my eyes from his.

I have no idea what he's just said, but what I do know is that he is rapidly becoming a problem because my heart feels as if it is about to shatter into a thousand pieces.