Coldhearted King: A Billionaire Workplace Romance (Empty Kingdom Book 1)

I back her against the door, looming over her and bracing my hands on either side of her head.

She tilts her face toward mine, eyes flashing. “What do you want, Cole?”

“You know what I want.”

She exhales shakily. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want that from me? You have your choice of women. Why risk our professional relationship for this?”

I lower my head, my nose grazing against her cheek until I reach her ear. “Because I want another taste. I want to see if you’ll come as sweetly for me now as you did then.”

Her breath hitches, and I turn so my lips brush against the soft skin of her cheek. “Just think. By now, Paul will be up here, right outside this door. He’ll be sitting out there waiting patiently for me while I’m making you come. If that isn’t revenge, I don’t know what is.”

“I’m not having sex with you in your office.” There’s far less conviction in that statement than she probably thinks.

My lips travel down until they’re hovering just over hers. “I’m not offering to have sex with you in my office.”

“Then what—”

“I’m not going to fuck you, but I am going to make you feel good. You only have to trust me and keep quiet like the good girl you showed me you are the night we met. Can you do that?”

I’m almost sure she’ll turn me down, but I hold my breath as I wait.

A few seconds pass before she says, “I can do that.”

Fuck yes.

I’m being reckless. I know that. But I don’t care. Right now, I’m not thinking about anything but Delilah and making her come. I’m not thinking about my father and what he did. I’m not thinking about the investors doubting what my brothers and I can achieve.

She’s the only thing on my mind.

I reach down with one hand and run it up her thigh, snagging the hem of her skirt and dragging it up to her ass. Pulling back, I watch her face as I brush my fingers over her panties. Her lips part and her eyes go glassy. My thumb finds a damp spot and when I press against it, her hips twitch and a whispered moan drops from her lips. Triumph rockets through me. She’s wet. She’s standing in my office with wet panties.

The need to pull out my cock and sink into her is so strong my pulse pounds with it. But that can’t happen. This is all I’ll allow myself. One more momentary taste of her.

I ease my hand underneath the silky material, my knuckles brushing over the smooth, soft skin of her pussy.

“Cole,” she breathes, and I bare my teeth at her in a smile which probably looks more than a little feral.

Pressing deeper, I slide into her slick heat, and my mouth goes dry as I anticipate replacing my fingers with my mouth. The flutter at the base of Delilah’s neck steals my gaze. I want to press my lips against it, scrape my teeth along her throat, suck the delicate skin until it leaves a mark so that when I send her back out, Paul will know exactly what happened in here.

But I won’t because it makes no sense. I couldn’t give a fuck about Paul and his screw ups, except that it allows me to do this again. I don’t have a fucking clue where the desire to mark her comes from.

Shaking the thought away, I press my thumb against her clit, then slide my finger deeper before pulling it out and repeating the process.

She moans, and I nearly do too. I’d forgotten just how tight she is, her body wrapping snugly around my fingers thrusting inside her.

Delilah’s hips begin to move in rhythm with my hand. Her lids are half-closed, lips parted as she watches me watch her. “More, Cole. Please.”

If she thinks finger fucking her to orgasm is my end goal right now, she’s mistaken. She lets out a little cry when I pull my hand out of her panties, her wide eyes searching mine. A flash of doubt crosses her face, as if she thinks I’m done with her. As if she thinks I’d make promises about making her feel good and then leave her hanging.

She has a lot to learn about me.

I drop to my knees, my fingers hooking in her underwear and pulling them down her thighs as I go.

Her gasp lets me know she isn’t expecting it.

“Off,” I say, tapping her ankle, and she lifts each foot in turn, stepping out of her panties. I stuff them into my pocket. “Hold your skirt up for me.”

Her eyes are dilated, her cheeks flushed. But she does as she’s told, gathering her skirt, shimmying her hips to get the tight material over her ass, and then clutching it at her waist.

She’s already glistening with desire, and lust pounds a heavy beat in my blood. My hard dick strains against my fly.

But it will have to wait.

I use my thumbs to part her, my mouth watering as I see how wet she is. Then I lean forward and run my tongue from her entrance to her clit in one long swipe. Her taste almost has my eyes rolling back in my head. She’s fucking delicious—like the finest wine. How have I had her in this building for the last month and not done this before?

Then I remember.

Paul.

He’s been the one tasting her, making her whimper and tremble. The thought has my shoulders knotting. Not anymore. The asshole screwed up, and now I’m the one with his mouth between her legs.

I alternate sucking and flicking her clit, then slide a finger back into her. Her breaths are coming fast now, but so far, she’s kept quiet. That changes when I thrust another finger inside her. Her head falls back against the door. It doesn’t rattle, because it’s a solid fucking door. But it makes a thump.

I graze her clit with my teeth, then look up at her. “Quiet, Miss West, unless you want the entire office to find out you were in here with my tongue in your pussy.”

“Cole!” she gasps, her hands clutching my hair as I go back to licking and thrusting into her. I know she’s close when her hips begin rocking against me. “Oh my god, Cole. I’m going to come.”

Before she can, I swap, my thumb going to her clit, rolling over that swollen bundle of nerves in a fast rhythm while my tongue spears into her.

Delilah sucks in a sharp breath at the sensation, and the dual stimulation is too much. Her hands tighten in my hair, her pelvis jolts forward, grinding on my face, and then she’s coming. She makes little panting moans as her internal muscles spasm around me, and I groan against her slick flesh as I savor the arousal seeping from her.

When she sags back, I swipe my tongue over her one last time, then stand. I bring each finger that was inside her to my mouth and lick them clean, then rub my hand over my lips and chin. I’m not rubbing her off me. I’m rubbing her in. When I lean forward, my mouth hovering over hers, her eyes widen, probably thinking I’m going to kiss her. But I don’t. Because that’s not what this is about.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

Instead, I swipe my tongue against her lips, groaning when hers darts out to follow the trail of mine. “Now when you walk past Paul, you’ll have the taste of us on your lips,” I growl.

I straighten, stepping back from her. She’s a glorious sight. Her cheeks flushed, eyes slightly glazed, skirt still clutched at her waist. I want to bend her over my desk and fuck her. But I close my eyes and breathe deeply to push the urge aside.

“Can I have my panties back?” she asks.

“No.”

She stares at me, but instead of arguing, she eases her skirt down her thighs, smoothing out the wrinkles. Then she fusses with her hair a little, avoiding my eyes.

I won’t let her get away with that, though. “We seem to be making a habit of revenge.”

Her gaze meets mine, and I’m not sure what I see in it. It better not be fucking regret.

“It won’t happen again,” she says. “I don’t want anything to do with Paul anymore. Not outside of work, anyway.”

I nod, satisfied to hear Paul is out of chances. Less satisfied that she’s stating this will be the last time I get to touch her. Having had another taste, I’m not sure I’ll be happy until I’ve fucked her again. Completely gotten her out of my system. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

She finishes straightening herself out, and rather than lingering and letting her know that I’m not quite on board with her declaration, I return to my desk.

She watches me with a frown. “Aren’t you going to . . . uh, clean up?” Her eyes flick to my mouth, then my hand.

I smirk. “When Paul comes in, I want the hand he shakes to be covered in you.”

Her mouth drops open and her cheeks redden even more, but something flashes in her eyes, and I wonder if my little kitten doesn’t have a more vengeful side after all. Instead of protesting, she just rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and nods.

Sooner than I expect, she’s turning, opening the door, and slipping out. As much as I would love to watch her walk past Paul with no panties on, her face still flushed from her orgasm, that’s not how I do things.

Instead, I wait a few minutes, then push the intercom, asking Samson to send Paul in.

When he comes through the door, I’m waiting for him, my hand extended.

I hide a smirk as he shakes it. “Sit down, Paul.”

I gesture at the chair in front of my desk. After he sits, I round it to take my seat. Before I say what I need to say, I lick my lips, closing my eyes for a second to savor Delilah’s taste. I don’t care if it makes me an asshole. After all, it takes one to know one, and I knew Paul was an asshole from the moment I met him.

My silence must be making Paul nervous, because he shifts in his chair and fiddles with his tie. Then he clears his throat. “I’m not quite sure why you called me here today, Cole—” My raised brows make him choke. “Uh, I mean, Mr. King. If you’re looking for an update on the project, I don’t have anything prepared.”

“I’m not after an update from you. Delilah gave me everything I wanted.”

If only he knew.

A flash of anger crosses his face at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. I almost lick my lips again, but refrain.

“I’ve called you here because I’ve been made aware of something that I believe needs to be addressed.”

Paul looks a little confused. “If you have concerns with one of my team—”

“Not one of your team. You.”

Surprise twists his face, but he clears it quickly. “Me?”

“Yes. It’s come to my attention that you’ve been having a personal relationship with two of your team members. At the same time.”

His lips pinch, and he adjusts his position again. “I’m not sure what Delilah has said to you—”

“Delilah was not the source of my information.”

His brow furrows as if he can’t imagine any other way I could have found out.

“Uh, okay. Well, whoever passed on this information, that is not the case.”

I narrow my gaze and lean back in my chair. Hopefully Paul realizes he’s on very shaky ground right now. “That’s not the case?”

From the flare of panic in his eyes, he does. “Yes, well. Not currently. I’m not sure if you’re aware or not, but I ended . . . I mean, my relationship with Miss West has ended.” Anger burns in my gut. He was going to say he ended his relationship with Delilah, but obviously changed his mind when he remembered I just met with her.

“That may be, but during your time with Miss West, you were also seeing Miss Grant, correct?”

“I’m not sure this is any of your business,” he says.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Paul. My company is investing a serious amount of money in this project, and we chose your firm based on your designs and the understanding that you and your team would behave in a professional manner. My project manager having an affair with not one but two of his team members is a situation that could easily result in significant emotional upheaval and therefore affect the smooth operation of the team. That’s one hundred percent my business.”

Paul goes white. “Uh, yes, I see your point. Well, the situation has now resolved itself, and I can promise nothing like it will ever happen again.”

“I hope not. Because if I hear of you acting unprofessionally while contracted to the King Group, I will be forced to reassess your position in the team handling our project.”

Part of me wants to do it anyway. To teach him a lesson about screwing with Delilah. But my more logical side realizes that letting emotions influence my business decisions is ridiculous. Outside of his bad decisions regarding Delilah and Philippa, he’s a decent project manager. There is something I can do that won’t have as big an impact on the project, though.

I lean forward. “I expect you to organize a replacement liaison for Miss Grant immediately.”

Paul stammers. “B-But Elite assigned her to this position. I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Because if you don’t arrange it, I will. And I don’t think you want your senior partners to receive a call from me. I don’t care what you tell them to get the change made, but if it falls to me to do it, I’ll tell them exactly what the issue is. I can guarantee that won’t end well for you or Miss Grant.”

Paul’s swallow is almost audible. “I understand, Mr. King. I’ll organize it immediately. And you have my promise that I won’t do anything to jeopardize the project.”

I give him an assessing look and can’t resist running my finger across my bottom lip as if I’m considering his words. Really, I’m just enjoying knowing he has no idea that finger was recently buried in Delilah’s pussy.

I’ve had enough. I want him out of my office. Not only because I have no interest in talking to him anymore, but because I need to take care of the throb in my pants.

I nod as if I’ve made a decision. “Make sure you don’t.”

Relief drops his shoulders from around his ears, and only when I stare at him silently for a few more seconds does he realize he’s been dismissed. He rushes to stand. “Thank you, Mr. King.”

As soon as he’s gone, I’m out of my chair and heading for my bathroom. Again. This is getting ridiculous. Somehow, I have to get her out of my head so I can concentrate on business. This company is the only thing tying my brothers and me together, and I can’t let one little architect, enticing as she may be, distract me from it.

Not bothering to lock the door behind me, I have my fly undone and my cock in my hand within seconds.

I just need to figure out how the hell to do it.