The building had gone quiet hours ago. Most of the thirty-two floors were dark, save for the security lights in the hallways and the faint blue pulse leaking from a handful of corner offices on level thirteen. Raina knew exactly which one still glowed.
She hadn't planned to stay this late. Or maybe she had. The line between intention and excuse had blurred weeks ago, ever since the first time Julian's hand brushed hers while reaching for the same stack of printouts. That casual contact had felt electric, wrong in the best way, and neither of them had pulled away fast enough.
Tonight she wore the black set again — lace bra that pushed her breasts high, matching thong that barely qualified as underwear, garters clipped to sheer thigh-highs beneath the charcoal pencil skirt. She told herself it was just comfortable. She knew better.
The elevator ride up was silent except for the soft mechanical hum. When the doors opened on thirteen, the corridor smelled faintly of toner and expensive cologne. Her heels clicked too loudly against the polished floor, announcing her before she was ready. She didn't care.
Julian's door was ajar, light spilling into the hall like an invitation. She pushed it wider and stepped inside without knocking.
He sat behind the wide glass desk, sleeves rolled to mid-forearm, top two buttons of his shirt undone. The screens in front of him cast shifting patterns across the sharp planes of his face. He didn't look surprised to see her. He looked hungry.
"Thought you'd left," he said, voice low, not quite a question.
"Forgot something." Raina closed the door behind her. The lock engaged with a decisive click.
His eyes flicked to the door, then back to her. A slow smile curved his mouth. "Convenient."
She crossed the room deliberately, letting her hips roll. The air felt thicker the closer she got, charged, like the moment before a storm breaks. When she reached the desk she didn't sit on it. Instead she stepped between his spread knees, forcing him to lean back slightly in the leather chair. Her palms braced on the arms, caging him.
Up close he smelled like cedar, black coffee, and the faint metallic bite of arousal already simmering under his skin.
"You've been staring at me all week," she said softly.
"You've been bending over filing cabinets in skirts that should be illegal."
"Complaining?"
"Never." His hands slid up the outside of her thighs, warm through the fabric. "Just observing."
Raina tilted her head, letting dark hair spill over one shoulder. "Observe closer."
He didn't need more invitation. His fingers found the zipper at the back of her skirt and dragged it down in one slow pull. The sound was obscene in the quiet room. The skirt loosened; she shimmied it past her hips, let it pool around her ankles, then kicked it aside.
Now she stood in just the lingerie, garters framing the tops of her thighs, the thin lace thong already damp at the crotch. Julian's gaze dropped, lingered, darkened.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You wore these for me."
"Maybe." She leaned in until her lips grazed his ear. "Or maybe I just like the way they feel when I'm soaked thinking about you."
His hands clamped onto her hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh above the garter straps. "How long have you been wet?"
"Since the meeting at three. When you kept looking at my mouth while I was presenting."
Julian groaned low in his throat. He hooked one finger under the front of the thong and tugged it aside, exposing her completely. Cool air hit slick skin and she shivered.
"Look at you," he murmured. "Swollen already. Dripping down your thighs."
Raina's breath hitched when he dragged a single fingertip through her folds, gathering wetness, then brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean. The sight made her clit throb.
"You taste like you've been edging yourself for hours," he said.
"I have." She reached down, palmed the thick ridge straining against his slacks. "And you've been hard since I walked in."
"Longer." He caught her wrist, guided her hand to his zipper. "Open."
She did. Belt first, then button, then zipper. His cock sprang free — heavy, veined, the head already glossy with pre-cum. Raina wrapped her fingers around him, stroking once, slow, feeling him pulse in her grip.
Julian hissed. "Careful. Been thinking about your mouth too much today."
"Then use it."
He stood in one fluid motion, chair rolling back. Hands on her shoulders, he guided her down until her knees met the carpet. The position put her at perfect height. She looked up at him through her lashes, lips parted.
He didn't rush. He fisted the base of his cock and painted her lower lip with the bead of pre-cum there, smearing it like gloss. Raina darted her tongue out, tasting salt and heat.
"Open wider," he ordered.
She did. He slid inside, slow at first, letting her adjust to the stretch of her lips around him. Then deeper. When the head bumped the back of her throat she hollowed her cheeks and sucked.
"Jesus—fuck—" His hand tangled in her hair, not forcing, just holding. Guiding.
Raina worked him with slow, wet pulls, tongue swirling under the ridge, then flattening along the underside. Saliva slicked her chin; she didn't care. Every time he groaned her name she felt a fresh rush of wetness between her legs.
After a few minutes he pulled out with a wet pop, breathing hard. "Not yet. I want to be inside you when I come."
He hauled her up, spun her, bent her over the desk. Glass was cold against her forearms. Papers scattered; a coffee mug tipped but didn't fall. Julian kicked her feet wider apart, yanked the thong down her thighs until it caught at her knees.
He dragged the head of his cock through her slit, teasing her entrance, coating himself. "Beg for it."
Raina pushed back, impatient. "Fuck me, Julian. Now. Hard."
That was all he needed.
One thrust and he was buried to the hilt. The stretch burned in the best way; she cried out, loud enough that anyone on the floor would've heard if anyone had been there. He didn't give her time to adjust. He pulled back almost all the way, then slammed in again, setting a brutal rhythm.
The desk rocked with every stroke. Her breasts bounced inside the lace bra, nipples hard points rubbing against fabric. His hand slid around, found her clit, rubbed fast circles that matched his thrusts.
"Gonna come already?" he growled against her neck.
"Yes—fuck—don't stop—"
He pinched her clit lightly and she shattered.
The orgasm hit like a wave, inner walls clamping down, milking him. She sobbed his name, thighs shaking, slick running down her legs. Julian fucked her through it, harder, chasing his own release.
"Inside," she gasped. "Come inside me."
He groaned, hips stuttering. Three more punishing thrusts and he buried himself deep, cock pulsing, flooding her with heat. She felt every spurt, the warmth spreading, some of it already leaking out around him when he finally stilled.
They stayed locked together, breathing ragged. His forehead rested between her shoulder blades. After a long minute he eased out slowly, watching his cum drip from her swollen pussy down her thigh.
Raina straightened, turned, kissed him deep and dirty. She tasted herself on his tongue.
"Tomorrow?" she whispered.
He smirked, still half-hard against her stomach. "Wear the red set. I'm ripping them off you."
She laughed, low and satisfied.
"Deal."