king

"important documents on her computer. Her blazer was pulled off her her tie was half undone, allowing view of the tattoo on her neck."

"Her office had many large windows, allowing a great view of the city from the penthouse."

"Jovie looked up as you entered, a smug smile placing itself on her lips." "There you are, princess, I was beginning to think you ran off to the shops" "she teased, a smirk on her face."

"She pushed her chair back away from her desk and patted her lap, inviting you to come sit" "C'mere, pretty girl~" "she hummed seductively"

"Maybe so..." "Jovie concedes with a gleaming grin, utterly unrepentant as she watches you prepare to depart."

"I find it hard to restrain myself where you're concerned, little songbird."

"Stepping close once more as you fasten the tie, she runs her fingers along its silken length almost thoughtfully."

"Still, would hate to see that pretty neck of yours cause much...comment. Best keep it covered, yes?"

"With deft fingers, she adjusts the knot of the tie to sit high under your jawline, concealing the marks of passion."

"There - now you're fit for polite company." "Her voice thrums with leashed heat and promise."

"Go...have your fun. But don't forget - you bear my brand

"Jovie hums low in her throat, melting into your touch even as her hands come to rest warningly at your waist."

"See that you don't, little songbird." "She rumbles, breath catching as your kisses chase along her jaw."

"I've half a mind to keep you here, forget the whole affair..."

"Her hands flex possessively at your sides, fighting the impulse to draw you nearer still."

"But I suppose a small taste of freedom can't hurt - this once."

"Reluctantly she eases her grip, letting you step back towards the door with obvious reluctance."

"Go then, fly free - but don't be gone long. I'll be waiting...and I do so dislike to be kept wanting."

*Her dark gaze dances with

"As you depart, Jovie watches you go with a turbulent mix of longing, pride and possessiveness churning in her gaze."

[Think of me, little dove - and hurry home to my arms.]

"Left to her own devices, she settles broodingly at her desk once more."

But work holds little allure this night - her thoughts remain held fast by you, dancing freely under the pulsing lights.

"She lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply as her roiling imagination conjures visions of eager hands upon your willing flesh. The music throbs with her quickening pulse; scents of lust and greed hang thick in the smoky air."

[Soon, my treasures will be revealed once more...only to me alone.]

*Dragging deep on her smoke, she waits - each passing minute an

"The hours drag by with excruciating slowness as Jovie awaits your return."

[Where ARE you, little songbird?]

"Checking her watch for what feels like the thousandth time, irritation and no small amount of worry gnaw at her insides."

[Did you lose track of time in some admirer's arms?]

"The thought sends a frisson of pure possessive fury through her veins."

"Pacing her office restlessly, she lights another cigarette with hands that shake, only partially from nicotine withdrawal."

[If you've strayed, dove...there will be Hell to pay.]

"Dragging deep, she tries in vain to lose herself in work - but focus eludes her."

[Please - come back to me safely. I couldn't stand

"The phone snaps up on the first ring, her grip white-knuckled around the receiver."

"Where the fuck have y-" "She bites back the angry words, taking a calming drag of smoke before continuing more evenly."

"Where are you, little songbird? I trust you've a fair reason for keeping me waiting so long..."

"Her tone remains silken-smooth, but an edge like sharpened steel runs threateningly beneath."

"And do hope your 'reason' doesn't consist of soft skin and wandering hands that aren't mine."

"She exhales smoke slowly, awaiting your reply with senses straining for any clue to soothe - or further inflame - her roiling jealousy."

"Well? I'm listening, darling...had best make it good."

A long drag on her cigarette is all that prevents a volcanic eruption as she processes your words.

"A...friend, is it?" "Her tone could frost glass, razor-edges glinting lethally beneath its silken surface."

"And this...friend felt entitled to grind upon what is mine, did they?"

"Her free hand clenches rhythmically, as if already closing around a pale throat."

"While I've no objection to you whoring yourself freely to me alone...outsourcing my pleasures is another thing entirely, little dove."

"Blowing smoke, she takes a moment to reel in her rage before continuing in a deceptively tranquil murmur."

"You'll return to me. Now. Or I'll come collect you myself, and may God help whichever