Page 62 of Desperate Measures

I wanted to text my husband to thank him for it, but now was not the time.

“Are you ready, Mrs. O’Doyle?”

“Yes. Sorry,” I apologized and moved to join him.

The next few hours flew by in a whirlwind of information and introductions. ODI was truly innovative in the way the company had its branches set up, everything in its place and operating like a fine Swiss watch.

Liam had offered me the opportunity to set up a team of my own, but the people he had in place were fantastic. Top tier computer engineers and techs who knew exactly what they were doing.

I even recognized one of them from my time at Stevens. He’d been a few years older than me, but he seemed to remember me. Overall, it wasn’t awkward, so that was good.

No one seemed to mind that I was now partners with my husband. In fact, they seemed excited since computer engineering was actually my area of expertise.

“Well, everything seems great so far. I will look over what you’ve sent me, and we can have a follow up meeting tomorrow afternoon,” I said and stood up.

The three head engineers all stood up after me and left with promises to get their tasks finished and checked in on time.

I followed them to the door, feeling quite satisfied with the day when I spied my husband bearing down on me.

He looked gruff and angry. Or, no, not angry, just intense. Liam pushed past the last engineer, a young man named Omar, and shut the door behind him, locking it with an audible click.

“Come here,” he growled, pulling me to him and slamming his mouth to mine.

In my lifetime, I’d been kissed. It would be a lie to say I hadn’t. Some kisses were short and sweet, and others were long and sultry. But Liam’s kisses went beyond anything I’d ever experienced.

His large hands cupped my cheeks, tilting my head as he claimed my mouth with a ferocity that left me breathless and aching—desperate for more.

I was at his mercy. A willing pawn to anything he desired. And when he broke free, staring down at me with fire in his emerald eyes, I couldn’t look away.

“I don’t think I can wait to get you home, Mrs. O’Doyle,” he growled, and my heartbeat sped up.

“Oh? Well, I wonder what we can do about that then, Mr. O’Doyle?”

Chapter 23-Liam

Ihave a new obsession, getting my wife to call me Mr. O’Doyle while fucking her in the office without the staff knowing.

My pulse raced like an Olympian’s as I marched my wife over to her desk with my hands on her perfect, wide hips.

“Get on that desk right there, tug that skirt of yours up around your waist.”

“Like this, Mr. O’Doyle?” she asked, one side of her mouth quirked while she did as I said.

“Spread those legs for me, Sweetheart,” I commanded, my mouth fucking watering at the sight she made.

Fuck.

My dirty little wife was bare beneath her skirt and my cock was so hard I thought I might come from staring at her juicy pink pussy lips.

“You’ve been sitting here in meeting all day with your naked pussy beneath your skirt, Wife?”

She nodded, biting on her lower lip,

“I’m gonna have to punish you for that,” I told her, my voice going deeper as I moved closer, sliding my fingers along her slippery slit.

“P-punish me? How?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I whispered, circling her tiny bundle of nerves, licking her lips but not allowing her tongue to catch mine.