Zane leaned back in his leather chair, his gaze locked on the mischievous glint in Leona's eyes. She had crawled under the desk with such intent, her hands deftly unbuckling his belt and tugging his trousers down. He hadn't even had time to process her boldness before her lips wrapped around him, and now he was utterly at her mercy.
He gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles whitening as her warm mouth took him in, slow and deliberate. A low growl escaped him, his free hand tangling in her hair, guiding her movements as his body tensed with each exquisite sensation.
"That's it, Siren," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. She responded with a hum, the vibration coursing through him, pulling a ragged moan from his throat.
Leona wasn't just beautiful; she was an enigma, a force of nature who could unravel him in ways no one else ever had. She was the leash holder, the one who controlled the tide, and Zane was a willing captive in her undertow.