He didn’t give me the release I was begging for. Instead, he stood between my splayed legs, looming over me like a mountain of pure, intimidating muscle. His eyes weren't just looking at me; they were dissecting me. I felt every inch of my skin flush under his gaze, the cool air of the office a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between my thighs.

"You're shaking, Isabelle," he observed, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. He reached out, not for my center, but for my face. He gripped my chin, tilting my head back until I had no choice but to look into those dark, piercing eyes. "A moment ago, you were so confident. You walked in here thinking you were the one pulling the strings. Now look at you. Helpless on my desk, stripped of your armor, waiting for me to decide what to do with you."