The Interview Part: 2

Sophie didn’t respond with words. Instead, she stood slowly, her movements deliberate—almost predatory—as she rounded the edge of James’s desk. The light streaming through the blinds caught the curve of her lips as she tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. She could see the faintest flicker of surprise in his expression, but he masked it quickly, his jaw tightening just enough to betray his intrigue.

Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she closed the distance between them. The air between them crackled with tension, unspoken and undeniable. James didn’t move, his hands resting on the arms of his chair as if he were still in control. But Sophie knew better. She was the one steering this moment now.

Kneeling gracefully in front of him, Sophie’s fingers brushed against the buckle of his belt. She felt his sharp intake of breath, the way his body tensed ever so slightly. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she saw the hunger there, barely restrained. She had glimpsed it earlier, but now it was raw, almost feral. “You’re playing with fire,” James murmured, his voice low and thick with warning.

Sophie’s lips curved into a sly smile. “And you’re enjoying it,” she shot back, her tone light but laced with defiance. She undid the buckle with practiced ease, the metallic sound echoing in the stillness of the office. Her fingers moved to the zipper of his trousers, and she paused, her gaze locked on his. The silence between them stretched, heavy and charged, as if they were both waiting to see who would break first. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod from James, Sophie continued, her movements slow and deliberate.

Her fingers brushed against the warmth of him as she freed him from the confines of his clothing. She felt him twitch in response, a low groan escaping his lips. She leaned in, her breath ghosting over his skin before she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him with a perfect mix of pressure and softness. James’s head fell back against the chair, his hands gripping the armrests as if to anchor himself. His breath came in shallow bursts, his chest rising and falling with each flick of her tongue. Sophie worked him with a confidence that made his control fray at the edges. She wasn’t just giving him pleasure—she was claiming it, taking it for herself.

Her lips moved with a rhythm that was both teasing and punishing, each stroke of her tongue sending jolts of electricity through him. James’s fingers twitched, itching to tangle in her hair, to take control of the pace, but he held himself back. He wanted to see how far she would go, how much she would take. And Sophie, sensing his restraint, only deepened her efforts, her tongue swirling around him in a way that made his entire body tighten.

“Sophie…” James growled, his voice strained as he fought to keep his composure. But she didn’t stop. If anything, she pushed harder, her hands gripping his thighs as she took him deeper, until he was fully lost in the sensation. Her own body burned with need, the ache between her thighs growing insistent with every moan that escaped his lips. She knew he could feel it—the way her breath hitched, the way her movements became slightly more frantic. And when he finally gave in, his hand tangling in her hair to guide her, she let him, her own desire fueling her obedience.

It wasn’t long before James’s control snapped. With a groan that sounded almost pained, he pulled her away, his eyes dark with hunger as he stared down at her. “Stand up,” he commanded, his voice rough and unyielding. Sophie rose to her feet, her legs trembling slightly as she stepped closer to him. He reached for her, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her onto his lap. The feeling of his hardness pressed against her made her gasp, her body instinctively arching into his.

James’s fingers traced the hem of her skirt, his touch feather-light yet searing. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as his hand slipped beneath the fabric. Sophie shivered, her breath catching as his fingers found the delicate lace of her underwear. “And yet you can’t resist me,” she whispered back, her voice trembling despite her bravado.

James chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a thrill down her spine. “We’ll see about that,” he said before his fingers slid beneath the lace, finding her wet and ready. Sophie’s head fell back as his fingers explored her, his touch both tender and demanding. He knew exactly how to move, how to make her body sing under his control. But Sophie wasn’t content to simply let him take the reins. She rocked against his hand, her hips moving in sync with his fingers, until the pleasure became unbearable.

“James…” she gasped, her voice breaking as he added a second finger, stretching her in the most delicious way. His thumb pressed against her sensitive bud, and she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. The room was filled with the sounds of their ragged breaths, the slickness of his fingers as they moved inside her, and the occasional scrape of her nails against his skin. Sophie’s world narrowed to the sensations coursing through her body, each stroke bringing her closer to the edge.

Just as she felt herself teetering on the brink, James pulled his hand away, leaving her aching and desperate. She stared at him, her eyes wide with frustration and need, but he only smirked, his expression smug.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice a low purr. “You haven’t earned it.” Sophie’s lips parted in protest, but before she could speak, James cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Do you want the job, Sophie?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual. “Prove to me that you’re worth it.”