Forbidden Desires: Taboo Encounters.

The Button (part 1)

Sofia had been watching him for eleven months.

Eleven months of bringing coffee into his office and pretending her hands didn’t shake. Eleven months of sitting at the desk right outside his door, listening to his low voice on phone calls, catching the scent of his cologne when he walked past. Eleven months of telling herself it was just a crush, that wanting your boss this badly was dangerous and stupid.

Damian Cross was thirty-six. Powerful. Controlled. The kind of man who never raised his voice because he never needed to. Tall, broad-shouldered, always in perfectly tailored black or charcoal suits. Dark hair that was just starting to show a little silver at the temples. Sharp jaw. Eyes that missed nothing.

Sofia was twenty-six. His executive secretary. Good at her job. Quiet. Professional.

And completely obsessed with him.

That afternoon she walked into his office with a slim folder of signed contracts. He was standing by the window on a call, back partially turned, one hand in his pocket. She set the folder on the corner of his desk the way she always did.

As she turned to leave, the stack of files on the edge of the desk shifted. One thick folder started to slide.

Sofia lunged for it on pure instinct.

The movement was too sharp. The top button of her white blouse — the one she had already been fighting all morning — gave way with a soft pop. The fabric gaped open. For one frozen second her black lace bra and the soft curve of her cleavage were completely exposed.

Damian turned at the exact wrong moment.

His eyes dropped.

The air in the room changed.

Sofia’s face burned. She clutched the front of her blouse closed with one hand, the fallen file in the other, and stammered, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cross. I— the button— I’ll just—”

She didn’t finish. She placed the file back on the desk with shaking fingers and almost ran out of the office, pulling the door shut behind her harder than she meant to.

She sat at her desk outside, heart slamming against her ribs, face still hot. She fixed the button as best she could with a safety pin from her drawer and tried to pretend nothing had happened. Her hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

Thirty-one minutes later, the intercom on her desk buzzed.

His voice came through, calm and low.

“Miss Reyes. Come into my office.”

Sofia closed her eyes for a second. Then she stood, smoothed her skirt, and walked back in.

Damian was behind his desk now. The contracts she had brought were open in front of him, but he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at her. The door clicked shut behind her. He didn’t tell her to leave it open the way he usually did.

“Lock it,” he said quietly.

Her stomach dropped. She turned and locked the door, then faced him again.

Damian leaned back in his chair, studying her with those unreadable dark eyes. The silence stretched until her pulse was roaring in her ears.

“Come here.”

She walked around the desk on unsteady legs until she stood beside his chair. He turned slightly to face her. His gaze dropped once more to the place where her blouse was pinned closed, then rose slowly back to her face.

“You’ve been watching me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Sofia’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know what you—”

“Don’t.” His voice stayed soft, but there was steel underneath it. “I’ve noticed. For months. The way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. The way your breathing changes when I stand too close. The way you dressed a little more carefully every week.”

Her face burned hotter.

Damian reached out and hooked one finger in the gap of her blouse, right above the safety pin. He didn’t pull it open. He just held it there, the light pressure of his knuckle against her skin.

“You exposed yourself in my office,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “And then you ran.”

“It was an accident.”

“I know.” His eyes lifted to hers. “But I still saw. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Sofia’s breath caught.

Damian’s finger traced the edge of the fabric, slow. “Tell me the truth. Have you imagined this? Being alone in here with me. Door locked. My hands on you.”

She should have denied it. She should have stepped back and asked to leave. Instead her voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

Something dark and satisfied flickered in his expression.

He stood up.

Even in her heels he towered over her. He didn’t touch her yet, just looked down at her with that same intense focus he used in board meetings.

“Last chance to walk out, Sofia,” he said quietly. “Once I start, I’m not going to be gentle. I’ve wanted my hands on you for longer than I should admit. If you stay, you’re mine for the rest of the afternoon. Clear?”

Her heart was beating so hard she felt dizzy. She nodded once.

Damian’s hand finally slid into her hair, gripping just tight enough to tilt her face up. His mouth hovered over hers.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It was hungry and controlled at the same time, like he had been holding himself back for months and had finally decided to stop. Sofia made a small sound against his mouth and he deepened the kiss immediately, tongue sliding against hers, hand tightening in her hair. His other hand found her waist and pulled her flush against him. She felt how hard he already was through his trousers.

He walked her backward until the backs of her thighs hit the desk. Without breaking the kiss he swept the contracts aside, lifted her onto the surface, and stepped between her legs. Her pencil skirt rode up. Damian’s hands slid under it, pushing the fabric higher until his palms rested on her bare thighs.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her.

“I’ve thought about bending you over this desk more times than I can count,” he said, voice rough. “Every time you walked in here with those files and that quiet little voice. Do you have any idea how hard it was to concentrate?”

Sofia shook her head, breathless.

Damian’s thumbs stroked the soft skin of her inner thighs. “You’re going to find out exactly what I’ve been thinking.”

He kissed her again, harder this time, while his hands kept moving upward. When his fingers brushed the edge of her underwear she whimpered into his mouth. He smiled against her lips — a dark, pleased smile — and stroked over the damp fabric once, twice, feeling how wet she already was.

“f**k,” he muttered. “You’re soaked. All from one little accident and me calling you back in here?”

She couldn’t answer. His fingers slipped under the lace and found her c**t directly. Sofia’s head fell back with a soft cry. Damian watched her face as he rubbed tight, precise circles, learning what made her thighs tremble.

“Quiet,” he ordered softly. “The walls aren’t that thick.”