Forbidden Craving

An Offer She Can't Refuse

An Offer She Can’t Refuse

My heart was still hammering against my ribs like it wanted to break free. I sat on the cold hardwood floor of my dorm room exactly where Jax had left me, legs splayed, two fingers buried knuckle-deep in my soaked p***y. The shame burned hotter than the orgasm still fluttering through me. He had stood right there in the doorway this morning, silent and towering, those dark eyes flicking over my half-dressed, clumsy body after Mia sent him to check on me. He saw everything. The way I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to reach him, the desperate flush on my cheeks, the way my thighs trembled when I begged him with my eyes to finally touch me.

He didn’t say a single word. Just that same protective wall he always put up, the one that screamed “you’re Mia’s little friend, this can’t happen.” Then he turned and left, door clicking shut like a slap. The humiliation should have killed the ache. Instead it made me wetter. I could still feel the phantom heat of his massive frame so close, the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the air while I rubbed my swollen c**t and came again, whispering his name like a dirty little prayer.

I’m disgusting. I’m pathetic. I’m Mia’s best friend and all I can think about is how badly I need her older brother’s thick c**k stretching me open until I can’t walk straight. Every time I remember the door slamming in my face, my p***y clenches so hard it hurts.

I had to stop this.

For the rest of the day I threw myself into anything that wasn’t Jax. I cleaned the already-spotless dorm, reorganized my notes until my fingers cramped, even volunteered to help Mia with her laundry just to keep moving. But still, every clumsy stumble (dropping the basket, tripping over the edge of the rug) only reminded me of him. I kept imagining him watching me fall, then finally snapping and pinning me down. The thought made fresh wetness soak my panties. I usually changed them twice before dinner.

That night my phone buzzed on the desk. I almost dropped it when I saw his name. It was a text message from Jax, he didn't call.

Jax: Mia says you already understand the cybersecurity module for the new app. The team needs an extra pair of eyes before the investor pitch. My office tomorrow at 10. Don’t be late.

That was exactly what the message read.

My breath caught. He was offering me a spot on his project. At his sleek startup headquarters downtown. The same building where I knew he sometimes stayed late “entertaining” clients in that glass-walled office overlooking the harbor. My c**t throbbed so violently I had to press my thighs together. This was torture. Being that close to him every day, watching those big hands type code, remembering how they looked wrapped around another girl’s hips… it would only feed the obsession. I should say no. I should block him and run back to my safe little life with Mia.

But my fingers were already typing before my brain could stop them.

Me: I’ll be there.

I set the phone down and stared at the ceiling, my cheeks were burning with fresh embarrassment already. Even after everything (the rejection, the door slam, the way he looked at me like I was a problem he had to manage), I was leaping at the chance to be near him again. My hand slipped back between my legs before I could help it, circling my puffy, needy lips while I pictured walking into his headquarters tomorrow.

What if he finally snapped? What if he finally bent me over his desk and gave me every thick inch I’d been fantasizing about? The shame of wanting it so badly only made me wetter. Strings of arousal coated my fingers as I pushed two back inside, biting my lip to keep from moaning loud enough for the whole dorm to hear.

Funny thing is that this same Jax was the very same man I have always hated. I've hated the way he carried himself, the way he treated girls like they meant nothing. I even feel shame and embarrassment on behalf of the girls that throw themselves at him. But look at me today, I have become that very girl I thought I will never become. I am now the one throwing myself at him, looking for any reason to become his w***e, even his slave or even toy, whatever he wished to do with me, I am ready and will to be.

The next morning I stood outside the gleaming glass tower of Rivera Tech, with my heart racing and my knees a little weak. My simple sundress suddenly felt too short, too tight across my breasts. I smoothed it down with shaky hands, nearly tripping on the bottom step as I pushed through the revolving doors. The lobby smelled like expensive coffee and ambition. Everyone here moved with purpose. And I was just the clumsy girl who couldn’t stop dripping at the thought of her best friend’s older brother.

At this point, I wish I hadn't had that pact with Mia, I would have begged her to help me put some words to her brother, make him see me and know that I am the best s*x he could ever have.

Even the thought of this is shameful and embarrassing. I really don't know what this Jax has turned me into.

I took the elevator to the top floor, with my pulse, which was thudding in my ears. When the doors opened, the entire open-plan office stretched out in front of me (minimalist desks, huge monitors, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the sparkling harbour). And there, at the far end in his private glass office, stood Jax in his usual confident and intimidating posture.

He hadn’t seen me yet.

But I was already soaked again.