Forbidden Craving

Another Accident

Another Accident

My hands were already shaking as I clutched the thick stack of encrypted files against my chest, the edges digging into my breasts through my thin blouse. I’d spent the last two hours at my temporary desk just outside the glass walls of Jax’s private office, trying desperately to focus on the cybersecurity audit he’d assigned me. Every keystroke felt like a lie. How was I supposed to concentrate when my panties were still damp, when every quiet glance I stole at him through the transparent barrier made my p***y clench with fresh shame and need? Two days into this “professional” arrangement and I was already a dripping, clumsy mess. The rules he’d laid down in that glass conference room still burned in my ears, no flirting, no unnecessary conversations, strict boundaries. I’d nodded like a good girl, promised to behave, all while my c**t throbbed under the table at the thought of him enforcing those rules with his hands instead of words.

But I wanted him to see me as mature. Capable. Worthy of more than the shy, accident-prone best friend of his little sister. So when the system flagged a critical vulnerability in the latest merger files, I volunteered to deliver the printed reports personally. No assistant. No email. Just me, walking straight into the lion’s den like I wasn’t secretly dying to drop to my knees the second the door closed.

I went to his glass office, but he wasn't there, his secretary wasn't there either, but I knew he was around, I had seen him walked through a wooden door right in that same office.

So I decided to get in and knock in the the door.

I knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. The heavy oak door swallowed the sound. No answer. My pulse hammered in my throat as I told myself it was fine. He was probably on a call. Or reviewing code. Or… anything except what my traitor brain immediately pictured, his powerful body moving over mine, that massive c**k I’d only ever imagined stretching me open while he growled those strict rules against my ear.

I should have walked away. Instead, clumsy as ever, I balanced the files in one arm and gently pushed the door open a crack, just enough to peek inside and whisper his name.

What I saw stopped my breath.

Elena Voss, the tall, elegant, ruthless head of rival negotiations and the woman whose name had been linked to Jax in every tabloid for months, was bent over his massive mahogany desk. Her designer skirt was shoved up around her waist, wrists bound tightly behind her back with what looked like his silk tie.

This was nit the Elena in this esterblishment. This was Elena Voss, the devil as she was referred to.

Her perfect red lips were parted in a silent scream of pleasure, mascara running as Jax drove into her from behind with brutal, controlled thrusts. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, loud and obscene. Her p***y was shaved, smooth and visibly swollen. It was stretched obscenely around the thick length of him, lips puffy and glistening as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. I could see everything. The way her juices coated his shaft, the way her ass rippled with every punishing stroke, the leather cuffs on her ankles keeping her legs spread wide. A thick black plug nestled between her cheeks, and every time he bottomed out, her whole body jerked against the restraints.

Jax looked nothing like the cool, professional man who had laid down those strict rules two days ago. His shirt was open, tie long gone, muscles flexing as he gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks. One large hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back so she arched like a bow. His face was dark with raw dominance, jaw tight, eyes burning as he f****d her like he owned her. Like he was releasing something dangerous he kept chained up the rest of the time. This wasn’t gentle. This wasn’t even passionate in the romantic sense. This was b**m raw, practiced, commanding. He leaned down, murmuring something low and filthy against her ear that made her moan louder, her bound hands twitching uselessly. The wet strings of her arousal stretched and broke with every deep thrust, dripping onto the polished floor exactly the way mine had when I’d fingered myself senseless thinking of him.

My knees nearly buckled. Heat flooded between my own legs so fast I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. I should have been horrified. Jealous. Devastated that the man who had just drawn such cold professional lines was secretly tying up beautiful women and pounding them into submission in his office. Instead, the sight only poured gasoline on the fire that had been burning since the day i saw him naked. My p***y clenched hard, suddenly aching to be the one tied down, the one getting f****d so good her legs shook. I wanted those strong hands on me. I wanted to be the one stretched around that massive c**k while he showed me exactly how dominant he could be. The shame crashed over me in waves, another accident, another moment of clumsy stupidity that could ruin everything, but it mixed with a hunger so sharp it made my n*****s tighten painfully against my bra.

I hadn’t been caught. Thank God. The door was only open an inch, and neither of them had noticed in the heat of it all. I eased it shut as silently as I could, heart racing, files still clutched to my chest like a shield. My legs felt weak as I stumbled back to my desk on shaky heels, nearly tripping over the edge of the carpet in my haste. Sitting down, I pressed my thighs together so tightly it hurt, but it didn’t stop the fresh gush of wetness that soaked through my panties. I could still see it behind my eyelids. Elena’s puffy, well-f****d lips stretched wide, the shine of her juices, the way Jax’s hips snapped forward with such practiced control.

Funny thing was that everyone including me thought Elena Voss hated Jax. No one had ever thought she was one of his toys. A feared devil, sighed and f****d to stupor.

He was into b**m. He was dominant. The kind of dominant that tied girls up and used them hard without losing an ounce of that terrifying self-control. The same man who had looked at me with silent rejection and walked away was capable of this.

It should have scared me. It should have made me promise myself I’d stay far away.

Instead, as I sat there pretending to study the code on my screen, my hand slipped under the desk to press against my soaked mound through my skirt. My breath hitched. The hunger only grew deeper, darker, more obsessive. I wanted to be the one bent over that desk. I wanted those rules to crack. I wanted Jax to look at me the way he looked at Elena Voss, only this time without letting me go.

Even if it destroyed me.

I crossed my legs tighter, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, and forced my eyes back to the files.