Jasper's POV
I stepped into the elevator, tie already loose around my neck and shirt half-untucked after another long-ass day. The doors started sliding shut when Drake slipped through at the last second. That cocky twenty-five-year-old from marketing flashed his usual smirk with his messy brown hair, lean muscle under his fitted shirt, and those dark eyes that always lingered a beat too long.
I was thirty-two. Supposed to be the senior one. But he carried himself like he ran the whole damn floor.
We nodded. I hit the button for the parking garage. The elevator hummed downward, just the two of us in that tight metal box.
Drake leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me. "Rough day, Jasper?" His voice came out low, almost teasing.
"Yeah. Same shit," I muttered, keeping my eyes on the floor numbers.
He chuckled softly and stepped closer. Way too close. His musky cologne hit me first. Then his body heat. My back met the wall before I realized I was retreating. "You look tense," he said. "Like you need someone to loosen you up."
His hand shot out and palmed my crotch through my slacks, squeezing my cock with zero hesitation.
"What the fuck, Drake—" I hissed, shoving at his chest. He didn't budge. Stronger than he looked. He grabbed my wrist, pinned it above my head, and pressed his body flush against mine.
"I've seen how you stare at me in meetings," he murmured, breath hot against my ear. "Time to stop pretending."
The elevator dinged at another floor. No one got on. Drake reached over and slammed the stop button. The car jerked to a halt between floors.
My heart hammered. "You're fucking crazy."
But my dick was already thickening under his grip. He grinned like he knew it, then dropped to his knees in one smooth motion. He yanked my zipper down, dragged my pants and boxers to my thighs, and swallowed my half-hard cock into wet heat.
"Shit—" I groaned, one hand flying to his messy hair. His tongue swirled around the head, sucking hard, taking me deeper until his nose brushed my pubes. The filthy sounds filled the small space and I was leaking on his tongue within seconds.
He pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny. "Turn around."
He spun me before I could argue. My palms slapped the cool metal wall. He kicked my legs apart, rough and impatient. The thick head of his cock rubbed between my cheeks, hot and insistent. He spit once, slicked himself, and started pushing in.
"Drake—fuck, wait—" I gritted out. No condom. No lube. It burned as he stretched me open. He was bigger than I expected.
"Goddamn, you're tight," he growled, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. He didn't stop until his balls pressed against me and his whole cock was buried deep. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but it lit up every filthy nerve inside me.
He gave me one slow grind, letting me feel all of him, then started fucking me. Hard, steady strokes that made the elevator car rock. Each thrust dragged over my prostate and sent sparks up my spine. My own cock bobbed heavy between my legs, dripping onto the floor.
"You're really letting some younger guy rail you in the elevator," he taunted, breath hot on my neck. One hand wrapped around my cock and stroked in time with his hips. "Say it."
"Fuck… you," I gasped, but I was pushing back to meet him.
He laughed low and pounded harder. The risk of anyone calling the elevator any second made everything hotter. Sweat slid down my back. My balls tightened.
I came first, biting my forearm to stay quiet as I shot thick ropes across the wall. My ass clenched hard around him. Drake cursed, slammed in deep, and unloaded. Hot pulses of cum flooded me. He kept thrusting through it, slow and messy, until he was spent.
He pulled out with a wet sound. I felt his load immediately start leaking down my thighs. I yanked my pants up with shaky hands, glaring at him as he casually zipped up and restarted the elevator.
"That was fucked up," I muttered.
Drake just smirked. "Get used to it. We're not done, Jasper."
*****
The next morning I tried to act normal, but my ass was still tender and I could still feel the ghost of his cum inside me. I buried myself in emails at my cubicle, the high partitions giving the illusion of privacy.
Around ten, Drake appeared at the opening holding two coffees like nothing happened. "Black, right?"
I took it warily. "What do you want?"
He stepped inside, pulled the partition door shut, and locked it. The space suddenly felt tiny. "You. Right now."
"Drake, people are everywhere—"
He grabbed my tie and pulled me up into a rough kiss. His tongue pushed into my mouth while his hands worked my belt open. I told myself I'd stop him. I didn't.
He spun me, bent me over my desk, and shoved my pants down just enough. His fingers traced my hole, still slick and sensitive from yesterday. "Still wet with my cum. Good."
I heard his zipper. Then the thick head of his cock was pushing back inside me. Slower this time. He sank in deep, stretching me open again until his hips met my ass. We both groaned quietly.
Instead of fucking me hard, he dropped into my chair and pulled me down onto his lap, cock still buried inside. "Ride me while you work."
The phone rang. It was my client from Texas. I stared at the blinking light, horrified.
"Answer it," Drake whispered, hands gripping my hips.
I hit the button, trying to keep my voice steady. "Jasper speaking."
Drake rocked up slowly, forcing me to take every inch. I clenched my jaw as Mr. Hillary started talking about shipment delays. Drake guided me up and down in a filthy, deliberate rhythm. Every time I sank down, his cock dragged right over my prostate.
"Yes, sir… we can adjust the timeline," I managed, breath catching.
Drake's hand wrapped around my cock under the desk, stroking lazily. His lips brushed my ear. "Squeeze me tighter."
Sarah's voice came from outside the partition. "Jasper? You okay? You sound weird."
I froze, ass full of Drake's cock. "Fine! Just… clearing my throat."
She laughed and walked away.
The second she was gone, Drake started thrusting up harder. The chair creaked. I covered the phone mic with one hand. "Slow down, you asshole—"
He ignored me, fucking me deeper, stroking me faster. The call dragged on. I typed notes one-handed, hips grinding down to chase the feeling. Pleasure coiled tight in my gut.
I came hard while Hillary was still talking prices—biting my lip bloody, cum shooting across the underside of my desk. My ass pulsed around Drake. He buried his face in my shoulder and groaned softly as he pumped me full again, hot and thick.
I ended the call as fast as I could, chest heaving.
Drake lifted me off his cock, cum dripping down my thighs. He tucked himself away like he hadn't just ruined me.
"Clean up," he said with a smirk, heading for the door. "See you later."
I sat there wrecked, heart racing, already wondering when he'd come back for more.