The Billionaire's Filthy Forgiveness

~ Lilian ~ Edwin's hands are everywhere, rough and demanding, pinning me against the cold glass window of his penthouse office. My legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts hard, each move full of that raw hate we've built up. "You drive me crazy," he growls. I hate him too, but right now, that hate makes this feel so good. I pull him closer. "Harder," I whisper. He does, slamming into me, and I scream. Clothes half-torn off. His tie hangs loose around his neck - I yanked it earlier during our fight. We argued about some stupid deal, me calling him out for being a cold bastard, him snapping back that I'm too soft. Now, that anger turns into this. My body arches, chasing that edge. "You think you can control me?" I gasp between thrusts. "I already do," he says. His hand slides down, fingers finding my c**t. I moan, loud, no holding back. The office is empty this late, but who cares if someone hears? This is forbidden, us hating each other but needing this. I'm close, so close. Heat building in my core. Edwin's pace quickens, his grunts mixing with mine. "Come for me, Lilian," he orders. The tension snaps, pleasure crashing over me in waves. I cry out, gripping him tight as my body pulses around him. But right as I'm peaking, my mind flashes back - six months ago, when this all started. When I first met this monster. I'm storming into the boardroom. All eyes turn - suits, ties, fancy coffee cups. And there he is, Edwin Pearse, at the head of the table. Tall, dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes like ice. He looks up from his papers, one eyebrow raised. "Who the hell are you?" he says, voice flat, no warmth. "I'm Lilian Shealy," I snap, walking straight up to him. "Your new consultant. And I know what you did." The room goes quiet. His team shifts in their seats, uncomfortable. I don't care. This man ruined my family. Bought my dad's company cheap, fired everyone, including Dad. Dad drank himself sick after that, lost everything. Mom left. It's all because of this guy. Edwin leans back in his chair. "Consultant? I don't recall hiring you." His tone is cold, like I'm dirt on his shoe. I slap my resume on the table. "Your HR did. Check it." He doesn't even glance at it. "And what exactly did I do, Miss Shealy?" He says my name like it's a joke. "You destroyed Shealy Industries," I say, voice rising. "My father's company. You swooped in when we were down, paid nothing, and shut it all down. People lost jobs. Families broke apart." My chest hurts saying it out loud. I practiced this speech a hundred times, but now it's real. His face doesn't change. No guilt, no sorry. Just a small smirk. "Business is business," he says. "If your father couldn't compete, that's on him." I want to slap him. "You cheated! Spread rumors, undercut deals. I have proof." It's a bluff, but I need in. To get close, find real dirt, ruin him back. He waves a hand, like swatting a fly. "Proof? Show me." I hesitate - don't have it yet. His eyes narrow. "Thought so. Security, escort her out." Two guards step forward, but I dodge them. "Wait! I can help you. Your subsidiary - the one that was my dad's - it's failing now. I know how to fix it." That's true. I studied every report. Edwin pauses, looks me up and down. Not in a nice way, more like sizing up an enemy. "Fine. Pitch it. You have two minutes." I talk fast. Numbers, plans, how to turn losses into wins. Simple stuff - cut waste, boost sales, treat workers better. His team nods a bit, but Edwin just stares. When I'm done, he claps slow, sarcastic. "Cute. Optimistic nonsense. We don't do fairy tales here." He stands, towering over me. "You're hired - for now. But one mistake, you're gone." His voice drops. "And if you're here for revenge, you'll regret it." I swallow hard, but meet his eyes. "No mistakes from me." Inside, I'm boiling. He thinks he's so smart, so untouchable. As I leave the room, his stare burns my back. In the hallway, I lean against the wall, breathing heavy. "I'll make you pay," I mutter to myself. "Watch me." Back in the present, Edwin's thrusts slow as he finishes, groaning deep. He pulls out. We're both panting. He zips up, turns away like nothing happened. "That was a mistake," he says, cold again. I fix my skirt, anger rising fresh. "Yeah? Then why do you keep doing it?" He doesn't answer, just stares out the window. I grab my bag, storm toward the door. But inside, that vow from six months ago echoes. Revenge. It's still there, under the desire. He ruined me once. I won't let him do it again. Except now, it's complicated. This heat between us - it's fire, burning everything. I hate him, but I want him. As the elevator dings, I glance back. He's watching me, eyes dark. What the hell have I gotten into? The flashback hits harder now, pulling me deeper. Six months ago, after that boardroom mess, I went home to my tiny apartment. Paced the floor, fists clenched. "He's a jerk," I said out loud to no one. "Cold, heartless jerk." But smart. Dangerous. I poured a glass of wine, sat at my laptop. Dug into his files - hacked a bit, nothing big. Found emails, deals. Yeah, he played dirty with Dad's company. Spread lies about quality, scared off buyers. All to buy low. I cried then, quiet tears. Dad's face in my mind - broken, drunk. "I'll fix it," I whispered. "Take him down from inside." Applied for the job under a fake last name at first, then switched. Got in. Now, here I am, screwing the enemy. Literally. In the office now, Edwin turns to me. "Lilian, wait." His voice softer? No, can't be. I stop at the door. "What?" He runs a hand through his hair, messed from my fingers. "This... us. It's wrong." I laugh, bitter. "You think? But you started it tonight." After the argument, he grabbed me, kissed me rough. I fought at first, then gave in. Hate s*x. Best kind, worst kind. He steps closer. "You're trouble." His hand brushes my arm, sending sparks. I pull away. "Good. You deserve trouble." I leave, door clicking shut. In the elevator, my reflection stares back - hair wild, lips swollen. "What are you doing?" I ask myself. Revenge plan: get close, find weakness, expose him. But this desire? It's messing everything up. Flashback again: First week on the job. Edwin ignores me mostly, barks orders. "Redo that report. It's crap." I bite my tongue, smile fake. "Sure, boss." Inside, plotting. Overhear him on calls - ruthless, cutting deals like knives. One night, late, I sneak into his office. Rifle drawers. Find a photo - him with a woman, smiling? Rare for him. His ex-wife, maybe. Rumors say she cheated, broke him. Good. Weakness. He catches me. "What the hell?" I jump, drop the photo. "Just... looking for files." He grabs my wrist, hard. "Liar." Close, his cologne hits me. Anger in his eyes, but something else. Heat. We stare, breaths mixing. Then he lets go. "Get out." I do, heart racing. That was the first spark. Hate, but attraction. Now, in the present, I step out into the night street. Cool air. Phone buzzes - text from him. "Be careful." What? Threat? Care? I delete it. Can't trust him. But my body remembers his touch, aches for more. "No," I tell myself. "Stick to the plan." Revenge. Make him hurt like he hurt us. Deep down the hate is rotting into hunger. What if I don’t just want to ruin him anymore? What if I want him to ruin me again - harder, meaner, until I forget my own f*****g name? I hail a cab, slide in. "Home," I say. As we drive, I vow again - silent this time. "I'll destroy you, Edwin. No matter what." But even as I think it, my fingers press to my lips, tasting his f*****g kiss. I can still feel that thick, brutal c**k slamming deep into my pussy... Wait… so you’re saying I won’t ruin him? Or you think I’m just gonna lose my mind over his d**k? Let’s cruise through this fantasy together.