*Isabella's POV*
We eventually made it to work, the slight ache between my thighs a delicious, constant reminder of our morning. He went straight to his office, and I to my own, the professional mask snapping back into place with a practised ease. I immediately got busy with work, filing spreadsheets and making reports, trying to drown myself in a sea of numbers and quarterly projections to ignore the thrum of anticipation under my skin.
I was lost in the mind-numbingly familiar task when the phone rang. "Yes?" I answered, already knowing it was him.
"Isabella, come here for a minute," he said, his voice a low, commanding rumble that sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"Okay," I said, hanging up and heading into his office, making sure to close the door behind me with a soft click.
"Isabella..." he began, his voice a low growl.
"Yes, do you need me?" I asked, playing dumb, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Yeah, I do," he said, closing the distance between us in a single, predatory stride. He crashed his lips into mine, a kiss that was so possessive and dominating it stole the very air from my lungs. When we finally pulled apart, I was gasping for breath, my hands braced against his chest.
"Damien," I panted. "You always do this with the door open." I was thinking about yesterday, the risk, the sheer fucking audacity of him.
He simply chuckled, a low, arrogant sound that was both infuriating and incredibly sexy. And then he claimed my lips once more, as if my concern was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.
"Do you want us to get caught?" I asked, pulling away slightly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The thought alone was terrifying, a cocktail of career suicide and illicit thrill.
"I'm totally unconcerned about it," he said, his voice a low, unconcerned drawl, as if we were discussing the weather.
"Well, this is new," I said, my voice a little shaky. "Sounds totally fucking reckless. I don't know if I like this new side of you." But that was a lie. A part of me, a dark, twisted part, fucking loved it.
He chuckled, a low, arrogant sound that vibrated through me. "But I know how much you love everything I do to you," he said, his voice dropping to a possessive whisper as he leaned in closer. "So shhh... let's talk, Ms. Williams." The way he said my name, like it was a dirty little secret between us, made my stomach clench.
But he didn't want to talk. He claimed my lips once more, a deep, dominating kiss that silenced every protest, every thought, until there was nothing left but him and the overwhelming, intoxicating danger of it all.
His kiss deepened, a slow, possessive exploration that quickly turned hungry, demanding. It was a kiss that silenced every protest, every rational thought, until there was nothing left but the overwhelming, intoxicating taste of him. His hands roamed down my back, gripping my waist, before one slid lower to cup my ass, squeezing hard, pulling me flush against the hard, demanding ridge of his dick.
I was lost. A whimper escaped my lips as he spun me around, my back hitting the polished wood of his desk. In a flurry of frantic, desperate movements, we began undressing each other. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of my blouse, the knuckles brushing against my skin, sending shivers through me. My hands went to his belt, the metallic clink loud in the quiet office, my fingers trembling as I undid it and pushed his trousers down.
He reached into his wallet, pulling out a small, foil packet with a practiced ease.
"You planned this," I said, my voice a breathy, teasing purr, a last-ditch attempt to hold onto some semblance of control.
He just smirked, a slow, arrogant curve of his lips as he tore the packet open with his teeth. He leaned in, his body covering mine, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl that vibrated through my entire being. "And I'm planning this, too," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. "Don't you dare cum until I say so."
The command sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated lust straight to my core. He positioned himself at my pussy, and then he thrust into me. A brutal, possessive claim that stole the air from my lungs and made me cry out, a sharp, broken sound of pleasure. He set a punishing rhythm, his hips pistoling against mine, deep, powerful strokes that hit my cervix with every thrust.
The pressure was already building, a tight, coiling heat in my stomach. I was fighting a battle against my own body, my muscles clenching around his cock, desperate for a release he was cruelly denying me. He leaned down, his mouth claiming one of my nipples, sucking hard through the lace of my bra, the dual sensations almost too much to bear.
"Please," I whimpered, my hands clawing at his back.
"Not yet," he growled, his thrusts becoming even deeper, more deliberate. He was pushing me, testing my limits, enjoying my desperate struggle for control. And then, when I thought I couldn't take another second, when I was right on the edge, a sobbing, whimpering mess, he finally gave the command.
"Now, Isabella. Cum for me."
The orgasm that ripped through me was shattering, a blinding, white-hot wave of pleasure that made my vision go white and my body convulse. I cried out his name, a raw, broken sound. He groaned my name, his own release triggered by mine, his body tensing as he pulsed inside me. We stayed there for a moment, a tangled, sweaty mess on his desk, the only sounds our ragged breaths and the faint hum of the city outside.
"Isabella," he said, his voice a low, panting rumble that vibrated through the desk and into my bones.
"Yes," I responded, my own voice barely a whisper. I was still out of breath, my brain a fucking puddle, and slightly starstruck from the sheer intensity of what had just happened between us.
"Nothing... wait a minute," he said, pushing himself up. His movements were surprisingly steady for a man who'd just fucked me senseless on his desk. He started putting on his clothes, piece by piece, the CEO persona sliding back into place. I watched him, confused, as I slowly started pulling on my own clothes.
He turned to me, his expression serious, his eyes holding a new, unfamiliar emotion. "Isabella Williams," he said, my full name a formal, weighty thing in the quiet office. "Can I take you on a date this Saturday?"
I stopped mid-way through buttoning my blouse. "Did you need your clothes back on to ask me that?" I teased, a nervous flutter in my chest. It was easier to be a smartass than to deal with the sudden, overwhelming sincerity in his eyes.
"Yes, I did," he replied, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "I needed to do this properly."
"But I'm already your girlfriend," I said, my brow furrowed in confusion. "You can take me anywhere you want."
He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I never asked you on a date like I should have. That moment... it was taken from me." He paused, his jaw tight. "So what do you say? Will you?"