The boardroom door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silence. Before she could turn, a powerful body pressed against hers, pinning her to the cold glass wall with bruising force. Eliot's forearm dug into her lower back, his other hand tangling in her hair to yank her head sideways.

"You think you can walk into my building wearing that?" His voice was a growl against her neck, hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "A tease in a tailored suit, trying to pretend you're here for business?"

The scent of his cologne—dark, spicy, overwhelming—flooded her senses as his lips grazed the sensitive skin behind her ear. Her briefcase hit the floor with a thud, papers scattering across the expensive carpet, but she couldn't move, couldn't think past the feel of him hard against her.

"Eliot—this is inappropriate—"

"Inappropriate?" He laughed, low and dangerous, before nipping at her earlobe. "What's inappropriate is you standing there looking like that during our last meeting. Like you wanted me to bend you over the conference table and fuck you senseless."

His hand slid beneath her blazer, fingers roughly squeezing her breast through the thin fabric of her blouse. She gasped, arching into his touch despite herself, and he groaned against her neck.

"Tell me you didn't think about it," he demanded, his grip tightening. "Tell me you haven't been touching yourself at night, imagining what my hands would feel like on you."

The elevator pinged down the hall, a reminder that they weren't alone, but Eliot didn't pull away. If anything, he pressed closer, his thigh forcing its way between hers, his lips claiming hers in a brutal kiss that left no room for doubt—this wasn't negotiation. This was a takeover.

And he always got what he wanted.