He’d been Tara’s client for months—always polite, always intensely focused on her, always a little too eager to please. And Tara noticed everything. Especially the way he watched her like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to worship her or fall apart for her. Tonight, she invited him to her private office. Soft lighting. Low music. A chair placed exactly where she wanted him. “Sit,” she said, her voice smooth and amused. He obeyed instantly, cheeks flushed with nerves and excitement. Tara closed the door behind her, heels clicking as she circled him like a predator deciding how much fun she wanted to have. “Nervous?” she teased, leaning down to trail a finger under his jaw. “A little,” he whispered. Her lips curved. “Good.” She settled onto the edge of her desk, crossing her long legs, the slit in her skirt revealing skin he’d only dreamed about. His breath hitched. Tara heard it. Tara enjoyed it. “You’ve had the biggest crush on me,” she said, amused. “You think I don’t see it?” He swallowed, unable to look away. “I… yeah. I do.” “Honesty,” she purred. “That’s new for you.” She leaned forward, brushing his cheek with her thumb, her expression soft but wickedly entertained. “You’ve been dying to know what I’m like when I’m not being professional.” His eyes widened, and Tara couldn’t help the slow smile spreading across her lips. “Let me show you.” She guided his chin upward with a single finger. He followed every movement like he was enchanted. Tara stepped closer, her body towering over him, her energy wrapping around him like warm smoke. “On your knees,” she whispered. He slid off the chair without hesitation, breath shaking, eyes full of worship and need. Tara watched him kneel for her, her grin growing. “Look at you,” she murmured. “You’re adorable.” Her hand drifted down her thigh, to the place he’d been fantasizing about for months. His eyes widened, breath catching as she revealed exactly what she wanted him to see—thick, heavy, impossible to ignore. His lips parted. Tara laughed softly, delighted. “Oh, sweetheart,” she crooned, brushing her fingers over his cheek, “you wanted this so badly, didn’t you?” “Yes,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Please.” “That’s better.” She tilted his chin up. “Beg properly.” He did. He begged beautifully. Tara let him get close enough for his breath to warm her skin, close enough to make him tremble, close enough that he knew exactly what she was about to let him do—then she held him there, savoring the control. “You’re going to take your time,” she said softly. “You’re going to show me how good you are. And maybe—maybe—I’ll let you have all of me.” His exhale came out as a desperate, grateful sound, knees pressing into the floor like he was kneeling before a goddess. Tara smiled down at him, amused and indulgent. “Go on,” she murmured, placing her hand in his hair. “Show me how much you worship your favorite woman.” She didn’t have to say it twice.

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