The tension from my whisper hadn't just sparked a flame; it had ignited an explosion. I could see it in his eyes—the moment his polished, boardroom composure cracked under the weight of what I’d promised him. He was paralyzed by desire, but he was still trying to act like a man who leads. That ended the second I reached for him I didn't wait for an invitation or a nod. I lunged, my fingers curling around his silk tie with the grip of a woman seizing her prize. With one decisive yank, I broke his rhythm. He stumbled, his breath catching in a startled gasp as I hauled him toward the exit. A laugh erupted from my throat—a bright, melodic, almost manic sound. It wasn't just joy; it was the pure, intoxicating high of total victory. I felt a surge of adrenaline that made my skin tingle. He was trying to find his balance, trying to regain some semblance of authority, but he was nothing more than a passenger in my wake. "Don't just stand there looking pretty," I teased, glancing back at him with eyes that burned. "I've already decided how this night ends. You just have to keep up." As we burst through the club doors and into the cool night air, I didn't look back to see if he was following. I knew he was. He had no choice. Tonight wasn't a negotiation; it was an annexation. And I was taking every inch of him.