Forbidden Desires: Taboo Encounters.

The Button (part 3)

By the time the car slowed in front of a tall, modern villa, Sofia was trembling and biting her lip to stay quiet.

The driver opened the door and looked straight ahead, expression blank, as if the soft sounds from the back seat had never happened.

Damian stepped out first and offered her his hand. Sofia took it, legs unsteady. They walked up the short path to the front door. Inside, the house was quiet and elegant—high ceilings, low lighting, the faint scent of his cologne already in the air.

The moment the door closed behind them, Damian turned and kissed her again.

They didn’t make it far.

He backed her through the entryway into the living room, mouth never leaving hers. His hands were already working the buttons of her blouse. When the fabric parted he made a low sound of approval and dragged the cups of her bra down, exposing her breasts. His mouth closed over one n****e while his hand squeezed the other. Sofia’s head fell back against the wall with a soft cry.

Somewhere deeper in the house there were soft footsteps—staff moving quickly out of sight. Neither of them cared.

Damian lifted her, carried her the rest of the way to the large couch, and laid her down. He stripped her skirt and underwear off in one motion, then stood and removed his own clothes with efficient, controlled movements. When he was naked he looked even more powerful—broad chest, hard stomach, thick c**k already fully hard and glistening at the tip.

He knelt between her legs, hooked them over his shoulders, and buried his face between her thighs.

Sofia arched off the couch with a broken moan. Damian licked her like he had been starving for it—long, deliberate strokes, tongue f*****g into her, then sucking hard on her c**t until her thighs shook around his head. He didn’t stop until she came against his mouth, one hand clamped over her own lips to muffle the sound.

Only then did he rise up, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, and position himself between her legs.

He pushed inside her in one deep thrust.

Sofia’s mouth fell open. The stretch was intense, almost too much after how long he had edged her in the car. Damian gave her only a moment before he started moving—long, hard strokes that made the couch shift beneath them. He braced one hand beside her head and used the other to keep her thigh open so he could watch himself disappear inside her.

“This is what happens when you let your boss see your t**s in the middle of the workday,” he said, voice rough. “You get taken home and f****d until you can’t walk straight.”

Sofia could only moan in answer. He felt too good. Every thrust hit deep. The wet sound of their bodies filled the quiet living room.

He f****d her through a second orgasm on the couch, then pulled out, flipped her onto her hands and knees, and took her from behind even harder. One hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. Sofia came again with her face pressed into the cushion, body shaking.

Damian finally carried her upstairs.

In the bedroom he laid her on the large bed and settled between her thighs again, slower this time but no less intense. He kissed her deeply while he moved inside her, one hand tangled in her hair, the other stroking her c**t in tight circles. When she came for the fourth time he followed, burying himself deep and spilling inside her with a low, guttural groan.

They stayed locked together afterward, both breathing hard.

Damian brushed damp hair from her face, eyes dark and satisfied.

“The driver will take you home tonight,” he said quietly.

Sofia looked up at him—her boss, the man she had wanted for almost a year—and nodded. 10 minutes later she was on her way home, reminiscing about her sweet boss.

The Next day at work

For the next three hours Sofia answered emails, scheduled meetings, and tried not to think about the fact that she could still feel him.

At 11:40 his voice came through the intercom, calm and professional.

“Miss Reyes. Bring in the Validation report for H group.”

Sofia stood, picked up the folder, and walked to his door. She knocked once and entered.

Damian was behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the composed executive. Only his eyes gave anything away. He watched her close the door.

“Lock it,” he said quietly.

She did.

He held out his hand for the folder. When she gave it to him, his fingers brushed hers and stayed there a second too long.

“Turn around,” he said. “Hands on the desk.”

Sofia’s pulse jumped. She obeyed. Damian stood, moved behind her, and pushed her skirt up over her hips. He didn’t bother removing her underwear—just pulled it to the side. She heard his zipper.

Then he was inside her again, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, the other gripping her hip as he f****d her in short, hard thrusts.

It lasted only a few minutes. She came with a muffled sound against his palm. He followed right after, forehead pressed to the back of her neck.

When he pulled out, he fixed her skirt himself, smoothed it down, and returned to his chair like nothing had happened.

“Thank you for the report, Miss Reyes,” Damian said, as he fixed his cuffs, already looking at his screen again.

“You will not speak of this to anyone,” he said flatly. “Not a word. Not even a look that suggests anything happened.”

Sofia stood frozen by the desk, still trying to catch her breath.

He opened a drawer, pulled out a thin folder, and slid it across the wood toward her.

“You’re no longer my secretary.”

The words landed harder than anything he had done to her body.

Inside the folder was a short contract. An NDA. Clean, precise language stating that she willingly agreed to transfer to another department, effective immediately, and that she would never discuss the nature of any private interactions with Mr. Cross.

Damian’s voice stayed cold.

“Sign it.”

Sofia picked up the pen. Her hand was steady. She signed her name on the line.

He took the folder back, closed it, and set it aside without looking at her again.

“HR will send the transfer details this afternoon. Pack your desk. That will be all, Miss Reyes.”

She turned and walked out.

At her desk she sat down slowly. Around her the office continued as if nothing had changed—phones ringing, keyboards clicking, someone laughing down the hall.

Sofia touched the edge of the signed papers still warm in her mind and felt something unexpected settle in her chest.

Sofia touched her lower lip, still faintly sensitive from his touch, and felt a quiet, private smile pull at the corner of her mouth.

She had finally f****d him.

Finally had him.

Finally crossed the line she had stared at for almost a year.

Whatever came next didn’t matter as much as that.

She opened a new email and began clearing her inbox, the taste of him still lingering, and for the first time in months she felt completely satisfied.