Mature Content!!

"Here is your coffee, Miss Sophia. I apologize, I didn’t know you were specially permitted to use the private elevator," I reply, looking down.

I place the coffee and start doing my chores, which basically involve mopping the floor, dusting, and so on.

My arm hurts badly. I can barely work with it. I do the chores with my left hand, as my right hand hurts too much. It is hard to do so many things with a painful arm and leg.

Just then, the bell rings again. What now? Does he want to torture me more?

"I’m going out with Sophia. Clean my office. Place the files in the shelves accordingly, and also tell my assistant to cancel all my appointments for today."

"Yes, sir," I reply, now scared of him.

He doesn’t give me a second glance, instead leaving with Sophia.

If you’re pretty and rich like Sophia, people will care about you.

If you are poor and not desirable, no one will care about you.

He called me a bitch. I thought he wasn’t that bad. I almost liked him for that little act of kindness this morning.

I sigh and then go on with my miserable life.

It takes me some time to complete the chores due to my painful arm. I work with my left arm only.

I finish after sunset. My stomach growls with hunger, but Mr. Enrique isn’t back yet.

I decide to call him.

"Mr. Enrique, I don’t think you will be returning. Shall I take my leave?" I ask over the phone.

"No. I’m coming," he rumbles.

"But sir-" Before I can say more, he cuts the call.

I sit on one of the sofas, waiting for him. If all the work is done, why does he still want me to stay?

The light of the lift goes on and Mr. Enrique steps out. His eyes are bloodshot, his lips split, but there’s something in the way he looks at me that makes my whole body tense with heat.

“Strip.” he says, voice low and rough.

For a moment, I freeze. But then his gaze locks with mine, burning, and I know exactly what he wants. My chest rises and falls quickly.

“You want this?” I ask, my voice shaking.

His jaw flexes. “If you don’t, tell me now. Otherwise, don’t stop me.”

I should say no. I should push him away. But the truth is, I can’t. I want him more than I want to admit.

“I want this.” I whisper.

His whole body stiffens at my words before he closes the distance in one stride, his hand cupping my jaw as his mouth crashes onto mine. The kiss is hungry, desperate, and my knees almost buckle at the way he devours me.

My fingers fumble as I strip down, my skin burning under his stare. His eyes move over every inch of me, and instead of shame, all I feel is heat pooling between my thighs.

When I’m bare, he lets out a sharp breath, his hand trailing slowly down my side until it grips my hip. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he mutters before spinning me around and bending me gently over the desk.

I gasp, but his hand spreads warm against my stomach, keeping me steady. His lips brush the back of my neck. “Say it again.”

“I want this,” I breathe, louder this time.

A groan rumbles from his chest as he slides into me slowly, inch by inch, until I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my lips. My body clenches around him, and he curses under his breath.

“God, you’re so tight,” he growls, pulling my hair back just enough to tilt my head. His mouth finds my throat, biting and sucking until I’m whimpering against the desk.

His thrusts start slow, controlled, each one sending a wave of heat through me. I grip the edge of the desk, arching back into him without even thinking.

“Please… faster,” I whisper, surprising myself with the need in my voice.

That’s all it takes. He slams into me harder, faster, each movement rough but addictive. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with his ragged moans against my ear.

One of his hands slides up to my breast, squeezing as his other grips my hip, pulling me back onto him. Every thrust makes me cry out louder, my body on fire under his control.

“Don’t stop,” I whimper, half-begging, half-commanding.

“Never.” he growls, his pace relentless now.

The desk shakes beneath us, my nails digging into the wood as he drives me closer and closer to the edge. My legs tremble, my whole body consumed by the rhythm of his hips slamming into mine.

He kisses and bites along my neck, marking me as his, while his moans grow louder, rougher. The heat in my stomach coils tight, ready to snap.

And then I’m gone, falling apart against the desk as he pounds into me, his name slipping from my lips in broken gasps.

He keeps going for another hour before he is finally satisfied. With a groan, he pulls out of me roughly.

For a moment, his hand runs down my back, and he presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. My chest aches at the sudden gentleness, and I almost let myself believe it means something.

Almost...

But he breaks the bubble all too quickly.

“What a good whore. I enjoyed fucking every inch of you.” he pulls away, dressing without even glancing at me!