I Reject You, Mate.

Prologue

Each breath is faint, and my eyes unseeing.

The first stroke of his finger has my n*****s tightening, and a moan threatens to escape my throat. I shove it down, even as I part my tight, allowing him more access up my skirt.

The clients carry on with the presentation, oblivious to Sin's fingers plunging into my wet s*x in a slow torturous motion. In, out, in, deeper, out. My entire world has been reduced to those motions, and my claws jut in and out at the loss of control.

My gaze, however, remains on his fiancée's face as my inner muscles tighten around his fingers. My expression is that of boredom, having taken years to master it, but somehow, she knows what Julian is doing to me.

I let her see my eyes roll back in my head, and I suck in my lower lip, biting softly on it.

She looks away sharply, the scent of her anger reaching me where I sit. At some point, she excuses herself from the meeting, but Sin doesn't look at her once.

All he sees is me. I am his world right now, his planet, his church, his home, his mate.

Not her. Nothing she does will ever change what we are to each other.

I should feel remorse, but I can't. All I feel are Sin's fingers curving inside me, seeking out that spot that...Oh.

I might have breathed out loud. I can't tell if I did, but the presentation has stopped, and they are all staring between me and Sin, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Do you disagree, Ms Gin?"

My mind is empty. "No," I start to say, but my voice is lost, and it is hard to keep my expression straight when Sin pulls two long fingers out of me and brings it to his nose, sniffing.

My s*x turns molten.

I want him. Now. Hard. Fast. On this work table. Sprawled out in front of him like a f*****g feast. I need him to ravish me. I would beg if I had to. Grovel at his feet to have him f**k me senseless, worship him if I had to.

His eyes meet mine and I know I am not alone in my wild thoughts when he says without taking his eyes off me, "You are all dismissed."

Final. No room for argument. They pick up their things and leave, confusion etched on their features. The authority in his tone makes me wet, and the heat in his eyes has me burning in an inferno.

The door closes, and he straightens gracefully, a mountain cat assessing its prey.

"Where?"

One word, powerful enough to make me lose my senses. The conference room is the sole room on this floor, and the one-way themed glass allows us to see outside without revealing the interior and it is sound proof as well. I could scream for all eternity, and no one would hear me.

And I know I will.

My tongue darts out to lick my lips, my eyes flickering between the table and the wall as I struggle to decide where I want him to take me first.

"Table."

"Good," he grunts. "Stand."

I obey him, hissing at the delightful ache between my thighs.

"Sit, and spread your legs," he commands.

Yet again, I comply, parting my thighs widely until the black material gathers around my hips.

Then I wait, while he ravishes me withi those eyes.

Sin stares at me like a lion about to devour his prey, yet, he makes no attempt to touch me. He retreats a step back, leaning against the wall in his crisp navy blue suit that hugs his form.

"Tell me again, Gin. Will you submit to our bond?"

I swallow, blood boiling at an abominable temperature. "Never."

His expression remains the same, much like he had expected that answer. Later, I will think on what it means, that I have become predictable to him. Later, I will think of new ways to reject him. Now, I ache, and it will be soothed.

His voice pours forth like the sweetest of honey, caressing me in every hollow and crest as he purrs, "Show me how you'd like me to touch you, Ginevra."