Madison
His tongue teased my lower lip, coaxing a gasp from me. A soft moan escaped, betraying how badly I wanted him despite my better judgment. My body arched instinctively, pressing my breasts against his firm chest.
“God, I missed this,” he murmured against my lips. His hands roamed lower, fingers deftly finding the zipper of my skirt.
I barely registered the cool air on my thighs before his hands were on my ass, squeezing possessively.
Suddenly, he lifted me, placing me on the edge of his desk. Papers scattered as he shoved them aside, making room for my squirming form. His eyes locked onto mine briefly, dark and stormy with unspoken hunger.
“Spread your legs for me.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. My legs fell apart without hesitation, the thin fabric of my panties already damp with anticipation. He tugged them aside, exposing my pussy to the cool air, and licked his lips.
His fingers traced a slow, torturous path along my slit. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my hips jerking involuntarily.
“So wet,” he breathed. “All for me.”
“Yes,” I whimpered, my restraint snapping like a rubber band.
He pushed his finger inside me, curling it just right. My vision blurred as pleasure surged through me, His thumb found my
clit, rubbing in slow circles that drove me insane.
“Please,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He didn’t need more encouragement. In one swift motion, he undid his belt and freed his cock, thick and hard, already glistening at the tip.
Without warning, he thrust into me, filling me completely. I cried out, my back arching off the desk. He set a relentless pace that left me breathless, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
The desk shook beneath us as he drove into me, his grunts mixing with my moans. “Fuck, Madison,” he groaned, his grip on my hips tightening. “You feel so good.”
“Alexander,” I panted, the pressure building inside me threatening to spill over. “I’m gonna-”
The alarm blared, jolting me awake. I shot up in bed, heart racing, sweat dampening my pajamas.
“Goddammit,” I cursed, punching the obnoxious clock. I flopped back onto my pillows, glaring at the ceiling.
Of course, it had been a dream. A ridiculous, hot, utterly frustrating dream. My body throbbed with unfulfilled desire, my
nipples hard points against the fabric of my top.
I groaned and dragged myself to the bathroom, my legs still shaky from that all–too–vivid dream. Cold shower. Definitely
needed a cold shower.
The icy water hit my skin like tiny needles. “Jesus!” I yelped, dancing away from the spray. Maybe it was not that cold.
As I adjusted the temperature, my mind wandered back to the dream–Alexander’s hands, mouth, and… No. Nope. Not going there. I squirted too much shampoo into my palm and scrubbed my scalp like I could wash away those thoughts.
“Focus on real things,” I muttered, rinsing my hair. “Like how you’re going to face him today without spontaneously combusting.”
After the shower, I stood before my closet, suddenly hyper–aware of every outfit choice. The gray pencil skirt seemed too
sexy The navy pantsuit screamed, ‘trying too hard.‘ The polka–dot dress was just wrong
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“It’s clothes. Just pick something!” I grabbed a black knee–length skirt and a cream blouse. They were professional, boring, and perfect.
I smoothed the skirt and blouse in front of my mirror. The outfit screamed, ‘Competent professional who doesn’t have sexy dreams about her boss.‘ Perfect.
My stomach growled, reminding me that fantasies wouldn’t fill it.
–
In the kitchen, I pulled out my favorite ceramic pan – a splurge from Williams–Sonoma that had been worth every penny. The eggs sizzled as they hit the surface, and I added a sprinkle of fresh herbs I’d been growing on my windowsill.
“Alexa, play my morning playlist,” I called out, swaying to the upbeat music as I diced mushrooms and spinach for my omelet. The coffee maker hummed in the background, filling my apartment with the scent of fresh coffee.
I plated my creation with the precision of a food blogger – not that anyone would see it besides me. The omelet nestled perfectly next to whole grain toast spread with avocado.
“This is art,” I mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. “Gordon Ramsay would be proud.”
The subway platform was packed as usual. I squeezed between a man wearing enough cologne to choke a horse and a woman whose enormous purc
seemed to have its own gravitational pull. The train arrived with its usual screech, and I managed to snag a seat near the door.
I checked the time. 8:15 AM. Alexander usually arrived at exactly 8:30, his sleek car pulling into his reserved spot with military precision. The man treated punctuality like a religion.
When I arrived, the office was oddly quiet. Alexander was not barking orders or making interns cry before their morning coffee. His office door remained closed.
8:45 AM. Still no Alexander.
9:00 AM. The empty office loomed like an accusation, its silence unsettling.
I reorganized his schedule for the third time. Rescheduled the conference call. Straightened my already straight stack of
papers.
9:15 AM. The office felt wrong without his commanding presence, like a theater without its leading man or a lion’s den without its lion.
“Stop obsessing,” I muttered to myself, opening my email. “He’s probably just stuck in traffic. Or maybe his car finally achieved sentience and locked him inside.”
The mental image of Alexander arguing with his AI car made me snort. I could just picture him threatening to sell it for parts while the car smugly locked all its doors.
My fingers hovered over my phone, debating whether to call him. Would that seem too clingy? Too unprofessional? Then again, he was never late. Maybe something had actually happened to-
The elevator dinged, and my heart jumped into my throat. Alexander strode out, looking like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover shoot. His suit was immaculate, as always, but his expression made my stomach flip.
“Good morning, Mr. Knight “I tried to keep my voice steady and professional. Like I hadn’t just been dreaming about him doing very unprofessional things to me on his desk.
His eyes flickered to mine for a brief moment. “Morning, Miss Harper.” He breezed past my desk, his cologne making my knees weak
The door to his office clicked shut behind him, leaving me staring at the space he’d occupied. Well, That was… different.
I heard shuffling papers and the familiar sound of his computer booting up. Back to business as usual. Though nothing felt usual anymore, not since that night in his penthouse, not since his proposition, and definitely not since this morning’s
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dream that left me-
Focus, Madison. I shook my head, trying to clear it of inappropriate thoughts. But sitting just feet away from him, knowing what his hands felt like, what his lips could do…
The intercom buzzed, making me jump. “Miss Harper.” His voice through the speaker sent shivers down my spine. Not the professional kind.
I pressed the button. “Yes, Mr. Knight?”
“Coffee. Black.”
Of course. Because walking ten feet to get his own coffee would probably kill him. I smoothed my skirt and stood up, grateful for the chance to escape his proximity for a few minutes.
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