She shook her head weakly, but her body betrayed her. Her knees parted just enough for his fingers to slip against the heat there. A soft sound escaped her throat, shocking her more than him.
"Don't…" she whispered.
But he didn't stop.
The office felt like a furnace now, the ceiling fan useless against the fever building between them. His hand explored with bold certainty, while his mouth devoured her breast, turning them into ragged moans.
Her blouse stuck to her skin in a sudden motion, he tugged at the buttons, one snapping loose. Cool air touched her chest, quickly replaced by his mouth again. She arched back against the chair, her hands gripping his shoulders at last... not to push him away, but to hold on.
"Chen…" she gasped, the name spilling from her lips without honorific, just as he had demanded.
His answering growl was low, satisfied. "That's it, say it again."
"Chen…"
The sound of her own voice, needy and raw as her breath came fast, shallow, filling the quiet office with small sounds she had never meant to release. Chen's hands moved fast now, pulling her closer until she was half lifted from the chair, pressed against his chest.
"Stay quiet," he muttered, though it was less a warning than a demand.
His mouth claimed hers again, rough and hungry. The desk loomed beside them, and with a single motion he pushed the scattered papers aside, the contracts tumbling to the floor. He lifted her onto the polished surface, the cool wood against her thighs contrasting with the heat of his body.
"Look at you," he said, voice hoarse. "Blushing like a girl, but your body can't lie."
An Ling turned her face, ashamed, but when his hand returned to her bare skin she arched helplessly toward him. All the nights of imagining, of telling herself she didn't want this, collapsed into a single truth: she wanted him now, and nothing could stop it.
Her skirt rode up, her blouse open, and still she did not push him away. His fingers teased, coaxed, demanded until her voice broke in a low cry.
"Chen…"
That single word was all the permission he needed.
He pressed her down against the desk, his weight heavy, as he free his cock which swing out bouncing, An Ling was shy, as Chen press his dick against her pussy gently then slowly slide into her. He was moving front and back, their body slamming against each other. The room filled with the rustle of clothing, the creak of wood, her gasps mixing with his low growls. The blinds rattled faintly in the evening breeze, half hiding them from the city beyond.
Time dissolved, there was only the hot press of skin, the desperate rhythm, the forbidden hunger spilling into reality. Her nails dug into his back, her breath rising higher, faster, as he penetrate deeper with his cock until last tension broke, leaving her trembling under him, overwhelmed by the force of it all.
For a long moment neither of them moved. The fan spun lazily above, scattering the smoke and the heavy scent of sweat that lingered. Papers lay crumpled on the floor, the desk a mess, the office no longer the neat, ordered space it had been an hour before.
Chen finally drew back, remove his cock and look at it, "You're wet, meaning you enjoyed it."
He smoothing his shirt, though his collar remained open, his hair damp. He looked down at her, eyes dark with satisfaction.
"You belong to me now," he said quietly.
An Ling sat up slowly, her blouse still loose, her body aching in ways she had never known before, shame burned her cheeks. She wanted to deny him, to say this could never happen again. But when she met his gaze, the words caught in her throat.
Instead she looked away, gathering the fallen papers with trembling hands. "If someone finds out…" she whispered.
"No one will," Chen said, his tone certain. "As long as you stay close to me."
The sound of the city outside grew louder as the night descended, neon lights flickering through the blinds. An Ling smoothed her skirt, fastened the remaining buttons of her blouse, and forced herself to walk to the door. But when she placed her hand on the knob, she realized her legs were still shaking, then she quickly rush out.
The office looked the same the next morning, but An Ling could not see it the same way. Every desk, every corridor seemed to whisper of what had happened the night before. When she passed Chen's door, her stomach tightened, a shiver running through her.
She had not slept well. Lying in her small rented room, she kept hearing his voice, feeling his hands, reliving the heat that had overwhelmed her. Shame chased her thoughts, but desire kept returning, stronger than reason.
"Morning," Li Mei, her coworker, greeted cheerfully. "You look tired, were you up late finishing the report?"
An Ling forced a smile. "Yes… the report."
Li Mei laughed and returned to her desk, unaware. An Ling sank into her chair, her heart pounding with the fear that someone might know, that the secret was written across her face.
The hours dragged until Chen step out from his office. "An Ling, come here."
Her body reacted before her mind, standing, carrying the papers into his office. The blinds were half-drawn again, sunlight cutting sharp lines across the desk. Chen looked up from his chair, his eyes locking on her with a heat that made her knees weak.
"Close the door."
She obeyed, her pulse racing, the memory of the night before flashed through her... his hands, his mouth, the desk under her. She gripped the papers tighter, trying to steady herself.
Chen leaned back, cigarette in hand. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"
She froze. "How… how did you know?"
He smirked. "Because I didn't either." He exhaled smoke slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I kept thinking of you."
Her cheeks burned. "Director Chen… we shouldn't…"
"Again with that word." He stood, circling the desk, his presence filling the small space. "I told you. When it's just us, I'm Chen. And you..." his hand touched her chin, tilting her face up "—you're mine now."
Her breath cease as she wanted to protest, to pull away, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her. His nearness swallowed her resistance.
"You're afraid," he murmured. "That someone will find out, that my wife will know or that you'll be ruined." His thumb brushed her lip, and she shivered. "But you can't stay away, can you?"
She closed her eyes, ashamed of the truth.
His hand slid down her arm, slow, deliberate. "I want to see you after work, there's a hotel not far from here. No one will know."
Her eyes flew open. "A hotel?"
"Do you think what we started last night is enough?" His voice was low, "You've tasted it now, so have I, and we're not finished."
Her heart raced so violently she thought he might hear it. A thousand warnings screamed inside her, but the memory of her body surrendering on the desk drowned them out.
"I… I can't," she whispered.
But even as she said it, she knew the word was hollow.
Chen leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You'll come," he said simply, as though his decision was already made.
When she left his office, her legs trembled. She sat at her desk, staring blankly at the papers, her mind torn between fear and the dangerous pull of desire.
Outside, the city pulsed with life... buses rattling past, vendors shouting on the street. Inside, her world had narrowed to one secret, one man, one hunger that threatened to consume her.
And as the clock ticked toward evening, she knew she would not have the strength to resist.