The Man I Shouldn't Want: A Game of Seduction and Lies

16. Every Inch

I approach the front desk with a small smile, feeling every ounce of confidence in the way my heels click against the polished marble floors before meeting the receptionist's gaze as she greets me with professional politeness.

“I’d like to see Richard Steward,” I say, keeping my tone smooth, almost casual.

The receptionist blinks, clearly taken aback by the request, though she masks her surprise quickly. “Richard Steward?” she asks, as if confirming she heard right. “The CEO?”

“That’s right,” I nod, giving her a faint smile that I know conveys I won’t take no for an answer.

There’s a brief pause as she processes this, then she asks, “And may I tell him who’s asking?”

“Tell him it’s Elliot Jones’ daughter,” I reply, watching her reaction closely. There’s a flicker of recognition and maybe a hint of intrigue in her eyes, but she keeps her expression neutral.

She picks up the phone and makes a quick call, her voice low and professional. When she hangs up, she meets my gaze with a practised smile.

“Ms. Jones, you’re welcome to go right up. He’s on the top floor, last office down the hall.”

“Thank you,” I say, unable to suppress the grin that spreads across my face as I head toward the elevator. The doors close behind me with a soft chime, and I exhale, steeling myself. I’ve thought about this moment more than I’d like to admit.

The elevator dings, and I step out onto the top floor, the hallway almost eerily silent as I make my way to Ric’s office. Without a second thought, I push open the door and step inside, and there he is, waiting for me. He’s sitting behind his desk, hands clasped, watching me with that calm, penetrating gaze of his that makes my skin burn. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t smile, doesn’t break that intense, unreadable expression.

It takes me a moment to shake the memory of how things ended between us last time, of the way I shut him out rudely because Mike’s words had shattered something inside me. And yet, even after all that, Ric had shown tenderness, leaving me with a gift that now rests around my waist.

As I close the door, I feel the surge of heat as I turn the lock, the soft click echoing in the silence. His eyes flicker down to my hand on the lock, then back up to my face. I let myself lean against the door for a heartbeat longer, drinking him in.

“You’re here,” he says finally, his voice low and controlled, yet something unspoken lingers in it, something dark and warm that makes my pulse spike.

“Yes,” I breathe, swaying my hips as I walk forward, letting my gaze drift around his office. It’s dark and richly decorated, no glass walls separating him from the rest of the world, just a single floor-to-ceiling window behind him overlooking the city. I can’t help the smirk that plays on my lips. “I like the lack of glass walls in here,” I say, moving closer, noting the way his gaze trails my every movement as I trace a fingertip along the edge of a shelf. “You get to keep secrets. Work without prying eyes.”

Ric tilts his head, the corner of his mouth barely twitching in amusement. “I don’t like being watched,” he says in that quiet, gravelly voice, “not when I’m working.”

I stop at the edge of his desk, close enough that my thigh grazes his leg. “Would you let me watch you?” I murmur, leaning in closer, my lips barely inches from his. “I bet a billion dollars you look sexy while working.”

His gaze hardens with a desire he’s holding back, like he’s weighing the consequences, fighting against what he clearly wants. “Natalie,” he says, his voice deepening, “I just cancelled an important meeting. The second my assistant told me you were at the reception, I knew there was no point in staying focused on anything else.”

The way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters, sends a thrill through me. “So why aren’t you doing anything?” I tease, trailing a finger down his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles as his eyes follow my touch. “Is the big, bad CEO nervous?”

He leans back, his eyes narrowing, and his lips curl into a small, dangerous smile. “What are you playing at, Natalie?” His gaze rakes over me, hot and assessing. “You just show up here, unannounced, lock the door behind you. Do you have any idea what that does to a man?”

I laugh softly, leaning closer, my mouth a hair’s breadth from his. “Well, it’s your fault, isn’t it?” I whisper, my breath mixing with his. “You’re irresistible.”

He chuckles, low and rough, “Is that right?” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “You’re bluffing, Natalie. I can see it all over you.”

“Maybe,” I say, my heart pounding as I feel the pull between us deepen. “You don’t even know what you do to me, Ric.”

His eyes flash, dark and hungry. His voice drops, almost a growl. “Then tell me.”

Without another word, his hands slide to my waist, firm but careful, pulling me toward him as he turns his chair to face me fully. I sink onto his lap, straddling him, and he lets out a low breath as I settle there. My skin feels electric under his touch, and I lean in, letting my fingers trail through his hair.

“You’re sure about this?” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine, a hint of restraint still in them. “You know what it’ll mean?”

I don’t hesitate, don’t falter. I press my forehead against his, my voice barely a whisper. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in my life.”

A slow smirk spreads across his face, and the intensity of his gaze is like nothing I’ve felt before. He looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world, like he’s been waiting for this as long as I have. “It’s a good thing I cancelled that meeting,” he mutters, his hands up to my waist.

“Definitely a good thing,” I reply, breath hitching as I feel his hands tighten on me. “Because this might take a while.”

I reach down, fingers curling around the hem of my dress. Slowly, deliberately, I hike it up over my thighs, feeling his eyes following every movement, before lifting it off and letting it drop to the floor, leaving me in a set of black lingerie, all delicate lace and satin that clings to my skin. And right there, resting against my waist, is the gift he left me — a golden chain wrapped around me, inscribed with the words: Every inch of you is mine.

His gaze drops to the chain, his eyes darkening with hunger as his fingers trace it, the touch so light it sends a shiver through me.

I smile, letting my voice drop to a whisper as I repeat, “Every inch of my body is yours, huh?” I lean in, my lips brushing his ear as I murmur, “So claim me. Take what’s yours.”

Ric doesn’t need another invitation. His hands slide up, fingers grazing my skin as he draws me even closer, his lips brushing over my collarbone, up my neck, leaving a trail of warmth that leaves me breathless. His mouth finds mine, fierce and consuming. I respond with everything in me, sinking into him, losing myself in the heat, the weight of his hands, the feel of his body pressed against mine.

In one swift movement, he’s got me pinned against the edge of his desk. “Every inch, Natalie,” he murmurs, the promise raw in his voice. “Every inch of you is mine.”

Ric’s fingers trail over the golden chain around my waist again. His thumb brushes the inscription, lingering on each word. “Say it,” he murmurs, his voice rough against my ear. His fingers trace along my hips, digging in just enough to make me gasp.

I swallow hard, feeling my pulse race. “Every inch of me is yours,” I whisper, my voice trembling, yet steady. I turn to face him fully, his eyes blazing with a hunger that leaves me feeling weak and powerful all at once.

With a quick, fluid motion, his hands find the clasp of my bra, slipping it free as he presses his lips against my shoulder, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace before sliding it down my arms. His hands follow, warm and rough against my skin, exploring. His eyes rake over me, appreciative, almost possessive, and I feel a thrill run through me as he takes me in.

Ric lets out a low, throaty chuckle, and his hands slide to my thighs, slowly shifting me until I’m perched on the edge of the desk, completely at his mercy. His hands slide up my legs, fingers tracing patterns over my skin, until his touch reaches the delicate band of lace at my hips.

“Ric,” I breathe, my hands tangling in his hair, urging him closer.

He grins, his fingers hooking into the lace as he pulls it down. “Impatient, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over my neck.

“Can you blame me?” I manage, my voice barely a whisper. My fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him, all of him.

And then slowly, he slips a finger inside me, testing the wetness. And as I expected, I’m ready for him, a gasp leaving my own lips in shock. So ready, that Ric groans with pleasure. “f**k, Natalie. You’re so hot,” he whispers, sliding his finger out and pushing back in a force that makes me shudder before he picks a steady rhythm.

I react to him with every push, every pull, as he takes his time, rough yet careful. I can’t stop the small gasps slipping out, my body arching into him, wanting more, needing him closer. His gaze stays on me, sharp and focused, drinking in every shiver, every sound.

And then I watch with a gaping mouth as he unbuckles his belt and lets his trousers fall to the floor. I close my eyes, feeling a sudden shyness taking over.

“Look at me!” he commands, grabbing my chin before seizing my lips with his in a burning fury.

“Mine,” he whispers, and then he claims me, moving into me with a slow, powerful thrust that leaves me breathless. My fingers dig into his shoulders, and I can feel him everywhere, filling every inch of me, consuming every part of me as a moan escapes my lips.

His hand slides up my back, pulling me against his chest, keeping me right where he wants me. I’m clinging to him, my fingers buried in his hair, his shoulder, anywhere I can reach to hold onto this connection, to steady myself against the way he’s taking me, unreserved and raw.

“Mine,” he growls again, punctuating the word with another deep, relentless thrust. It’s not just a claim — it’s a promise, a reminder that every inch of me belongs to him in this moment, that he’s not holding back.

“Say it,” he growls against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. “I want to hear it.”

“Yours,” I gasp, and he responds with a rough groan, his grip tightening as he thrusts into me harder, deeper, like he’s marking me with every push. He presses his forehead against mine, his breath hot, his eyes fierce, and I feel the heat between us, the intensity, building and consuming.

“Mine,” he repeats, a little softer this time, his mouth capturing mine, swallowing every moan as we both move together, holding each other close, nothing left between us but the heat, and the way he’s making me feel every part of him, like he’s never letting me go.