Chapter 6: Crossing the line
638 Words
It was almost midnight.
The office lights were dimmed, the corridors hollow with silence. Emiliano sat in the CEO’s private lounge tucked away behind the main office a place where only Alejandro Herrera had access.
Except tonight.
Tonight, Emiliano had been summoned.
“I need you to bring the Caracas files. Now.” The voice message had been sent an hour ago. No ‘please.’ No ‘thank you.’
Emiliano had thought about not coming.
But deep down, he knew he would.
He always would.
The lounge was tastefully furnished: leather sofas, amber lighting, an open bar, and a long wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Mexico City’s skyline. Alejandro stood near them, his back to Emiliano, sipping from a glass of mezcal.
“You’re late,” he said without turning.
“I… I didn’t realize it was urgent,” Emiliano replied, clutching the file tightly against his chest.
Alejandro turned slowly, eyes sweeping over him. His suit jacket was off. His white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The sleeves rolled up.
"Leave the file," he said. "I didn’t call you here for paperwork."
Emiliano’s breath hitched. “Then… why?”
Alejandro stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a beast circling its prey. When he finally stood in front of Emiliano, his height and bulk once again made the younger man feel small, caged, and electrified.
“To end the game.”
“I, What game?”
Alejandro leaned in. “The one where I pretend I don’t want to throw you on this couch every time you walk into my office.”
Before Emiliano could answer before he could blink, Alejandro’s mouth was on his.
The kiss was a claiming.
Not tentative, not gentle. Hungry. Dominant.
Emiliano gasped against his lips, and Alejandro took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, one large hand gripping the back of his neck while the other slid down the curve of his waist, pressing them together.
Emiliano whimpered into the kiss, dizzy from the heat, the smell of cologne and mezcal and power.
Alejandro pulled back just enough to whisper, “Still pretending you don’t want this?”
Emiliano shook his head. “No… I want it. I want you…”
That was all it took.
Alejandro growled softly and grabbed Emiliano’s hips, lifting him as if he weighed nothing, setting him down on the couch. He knelt between his legs, spreading them apart with ease, his eyes dark and hungry as they raked over Emiliano’s flushed face, his parted lips, his trembling thighs.
“You’re perfect,” Alejandro whispered, voice low and rough. “Every inch of you.”
Emiliano reached up, unsure, but Alejandro caught both his wrists in one large hand and pinned them above his head against the armrest.
“You don’t move unless I tell you to.”
That voice commanding, thick with need went straight to Emiliano’s core. He moaned softly, body arching beneath the older man.
Alejandro’s mouth moved to his throat, biting, tasting, leaving heat in its wake. His free hand explored cupping Emiliano’s chest through his shirt, sliding beneath to feel bare skin, mapping him inch by inch.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, kissing lower. “So obedient.”
Emiliano’s hips bucked slightly. Alejandro smirked. “Desperate already? I haven’t even”
The phone on the nearby desk rang.
Neither moved.
It rang again.
Alejandro exhaled sharply, jaw clenched. He reached over, silenced it, and looked down at Emiliano flushed, lips red, eyes wide and dazed beneath him.
“This isn’t over,” he said darkly, brushing a thumb across Emiliano’s lip. “Not even close.”
He stood, adjusted his shirt, and offered a hand.
Emiliano hesitated… then took it.
Alejandro pulled him up then, just before releasing his hand, leaned in and whispered, “Next time, I won’t stop"
- Writer
