“Berry,” I groaned, lifting her from my lap and settling her on the edge of the desk. I anchored my palms on either side of her hips and hovered close. “Don’t torture me. What do you want? You want me begging on my knees?” She bit on her lip, eyes dancing, and shrugged. “Maybe.” I sighed. “Fine. For you, I’ll get on my knees and beg.”
