Addicted to the CEO: Sinful Pleasures

Chapter 5: Office Distractions

The conference ended two days ago, but Elena’s world hadn’t returned to normal. Back in the city, back at her desk in the sleek corporate high-rise, her body still carried the marks of those midnight encounters—faint rope burns on her wrists hidden under long sleeves, a lingering ache in her p***y and ass from being stretched and filled by two men at once. Her ovulation had passed, but the craving hadn’t. Every spare moment, her mind drifted: to the balcony railing digging into her hips, to thick c***s pounding her in sync, to hot c*m flooding her while dirty words echoed in her ears.

She’d been zoning out all morning. Staring at her computer screen, fingers idle on the keyboard, thighs pressed together under her pencil skirt as flashes of memory made her wet again. Reports unfinished, emails unread. It was dangerous—her job as executive assistant demanded focus, especially with the quarterly review looming.

“Elena?”

She snapped back to reality. Her boss, Victor, stood in the doorway of his corner office, arms crossed over his broad chest. He was the epitome of corporate dominance: mid-40s, tall and muscular from daily gym sessions, sharp jawline framed by salt-and-pepper hair, always in tailored suits that hugged his powerful frame. Dark eyes that could pin you in place. He’d built the firm from nothing, and his intensity was legendary—both in boardrooms and, rumor had it, in private.

“Y-yes, Mr. Reyes?” she stammered, crossing her legs to hide the fresh dampness between them.

“You’ve been distracted all week. This is the third time I’ve caught you staring into space. Everything okay at home?”

His concern was genuine, but there was an edge to it—professional, probing. She’d worked for him for three years, always efficient, always on point. Until now.

“I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Just… catching up on jet lag.”

He studied her, eyes narrowing. “Come into my office. Let’s talk.”

Her heart raced as she followed him in, closing the glass door behind her. The office was expansive: floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, a massive mahogany desk, leather couch in the corner. He gestured to the chair across from him.

“Sit.”

She did, smoothing her skirt, aware of how her curvy figure filled the seat—breasts straining her blouse, hips wide. Victor leaned back, fingers steepled, watching her.

“You’re one of my best, Elena. But this week? Mistakes in the reports, delayed responses. If it’s personal, tell me. Husband issues?”

The word “husband” hit like a spark. Mark was fine—oblivious as ever. But the affairs… god, if Victor knew.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her voice wavered. Her mind flashed again—to being bent over, filled deep.

Victor stood, circling the desk slowly, like a predator. He stopped behind her, hands on the chair back. “You’re lying. I can see it in your eyes. You’re somewhere else. Thinking about something… hot.”

She froze. Was he flirting? No, couldn’t be. But his voice had dropped, low and commanding.

“Tell me,” he insisted, leaning down, breath warm on her neck.

The proximity cracked her. “I… I’ve been distracted by… personal fantasies. Things I can’t stop thinking about.”

He chuckled darkly. “Fantasies? In my office? That explains the flush on your cheeks.”

She turned slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes were hungry now, tracing her cleavage. “Mr. Reyes—”

“Victor,” he corrected. “And stand up.”

She did, legs shaky. He towered over her, one hand tipping her chin up. “You need to focus. Maybe I can help… clear your mind.”

Before she could protest, his mouth claimed hers—hard, dominant, tongue invading with no apology. She melted into it, hands clutching his shirt, the forbidden thrill igniting her.

He broke the kiss, eyes blazing. “Lock the door.”

She obeyed, heart pounding. When she turned back, he was unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a chiseled chest, abs rippling down to a defined V-line. Pure muscle, tanned and powerful.

“Strip,” he ordered. “Show me what’s under that skirt.”

Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black lace bra that barely contained her heavy breasts. Skirt next, pooling at her feet—matching thong, garters, stockings. No plug today, but her ass still felt tender from nights ago.

Victor groaned. “f**k. No wonder you’re distracted. Bend over the desk.”

She did, ass up, gripping the edge. He stepped behind her, hand cracking against one cheek—sharp spank that made her yelp. “This for every time you zoned out today.”

Three more spanks, alternating cheeks, turning her skin pink. Then his fingers traced her thong, finding her soaked. “Already dripping. What fantasies, Elena? Tell me.”

“Being… taken hard,” she gasped. “Dominated. Filled.”

He hooked the thong aside, two thick fingers plunging into her p***y without warning. She moaned, pushing back.

“Like this?” he growled, pumping slow and deep, curling to hit her G-spot. “Or more?”

“More—please—”

He added a third finger, stretching her, thumb circling her c**t. The wet sounds filled the office. He leaned over her, free hand mauling her breasts through the bra, pinching n*****s hard.

“You’re so tight. Husband not f*****g you right?”

“No,” she admitted, voice breaking. “He can’t—oh god—”

He stopped suddenly, pulling out. Denial. She whined.

“Brats get teased first.”

He dropped to his knees behind her, spreading her cheeks. His tongue licked her from c**t to asshole—slow, filthy laps that made her thighs quake. He sucked her c**t into his mouth, flicking it relentlessly while fingers returned to her p***y, pumping hard.

She was close—coiling tight—when he stopped again.

“Beg.”

“Please, Victor—make me come. Eat me until I squirt.”

He dove back in, tongue f*****g her hole, three fingers slamming deep, thumb on her c**t. She shattered—screaming into her arm to muffle it, p***y clenching as she squirted hard, soaking his hand and the desk.

He stood, unzipping. His c**k was massive—thick, veined, head purple with need. “Suck it.”

She turned, dropping to her knees on the carpet. Took him in her mouth—lips stretching, tongue swirling the head, tasting pre-c*m. She bobbed deep, gagging as he hit her throat.

“Good girl,” he groaned, fisting her hair. “Choke on your boss’s cock.”

He face-f****d her—slow then faster, saliva dripping down her breasts. Pulled out, slapped her cheeks with it.

“Back on the desk. Ass up.”

She complied. He teased her entrance with his cockhead, rubbing through her slickness.

“Condom?” she whispered.

“No,” he said. “I want you raw. Feel me breed this neglected pussy.”

He thrust in—deep, merciless. She cried out, desk rattling. He pounded her relentlessly, hands on her hips, balls slapping her c**t.

“Take it,” he snarled. “This what you’ve been daydreaming about? Getting railed in the office?”

“Yes—f**k—harder—”

One hand reached around, fingering her c**t. The other teased her ass—thumb pressing in beside the lingering stretch.

“Ever taken it here?”

“Yes—recently—”

He growled approval, pushing his thumb deeper, f*****g both holes. She came again—squirting around his c**k, walls milking him.

He pulled out suddenly, flipped her onto her back on the desk. Legs over his shoulders, he slammed back into her p***y.

“Watch me fill you.”

Thrusts brutal now—deep, grinding. His hand on her throat, light pressure.

“Come with me,” he ordered. “Squirt on my c**k while I breed you.”

She did—orgasm ripping through her, squirting in arcs as he roared, burying deep and unloading. Thick ropes flooded her, pulse after pulse, until it leaked out around his shaft.

He stayed inside, leaning down to kiss her slow and deep.

“This isn’t one-time,” he murmured. “You’re mine now. In the office. After hours. Whenever I say.”

She nodded, spent, addicted anew.

As she dressed on shaky legs, c*m dripping down her thighs, she knew: the distractions had just begun.