The Billionaire's Filthy Forgiveness

4: Almost Let Him F*ck Me Again

Lilian ~

A project's due tomorrow - some big proposal that could seal a huge deal for his company. My company too, I guess, since I'm knee-deep in fixing his messes. The clock on the wall says 1 a.m., in the night, and my eyes are burning, but we can't stop. Not now. "Pass me that file," I say, rubbing my temples. He grunts and slides it over without looking up. Asshole's been in a bad mood all night, snapping at every little thing.

He slams his laptop shut all of a sudden. "This is crap. The projections are off. We're going to look like idiots tomorrow." His voice is sharp, loud in the quiet room. I glance up, see his face red, jaw tight. Temper flaring, just like always. Part of me wants to snap back, tell him it's his fault for not planning better, but I'm tired. So instead, I laugh. Not a mean laugh, just a soft one, like this whole thing is ridiculous. "What? You think this is funny?" he barks, leaning forward, eyes narrowing.

I lean back in my chair, still chuckling a bit. "Yeah, kinda. We're both wrecked, staring at this stuff for hours, and you're yelling at a computer like it's personal. Chill for a second. We'll fix it." He stares at me, and for a moment, I think he's going to explode more. But then his shoulders drop a little. "You're right. Damn it." He almost smiles - not quite, but close. "How do you do that? Stay so... calm?"

I shrug, feeling a weird warmth in my chest. "I don't know. Life's too short to lose it over spreadsheets. My dad used to say that - before everything went to hell." The words slip out, and I regret it right away. Don't bring up Dad with him. But Edwin doesn't snap. He just nods slow, like he's actually listening. "Your dad. Yeah. Sounds like he had a point." Wait, what? Is that empathy? From Edwin Pearse? The guy who wrecked us? My heart skips. First crack I've seen in his armor tonight. He notices my surprise, I think, because he clears his throat. "Anyway, let's rework these numbers."

We dive back in, side by side now, closer than before. His arm brushes mine as he points at the screen, and I feel that spark - same one that's been messing with my head for weeks. Hate him, yeah, but damn, his touch lights me up. We talk through the fixes, and it's actually going smooth. He's listening to my ideas, not shooting them down. "See? If we adjust the budget here, it balances," I say, leaning in. He nods, his face inches from mine. "Good catch." His voice is lower now, not angry. Almost soft.

The room feels smaller all of a sudden. Hotter. I can smell his cologne. My pulse picks up. "You know, you're not half bad when you're not being a jerk," I tease, trying to keep it light. He turns his head, meets my eyes. "And you're not so annoying when you're helpful." But there's heat in his gaze now, not just work talk. His hand lands on my knee under the table - casual at first, like an accident. But it stays. Squeezes a bit.

What the hell is wrong with me? I should pull away. Slap his hand off. I swore - never again. Not a graze, not a grab, not one second of what happened before. But no, my body betrays me. Tingles shoot up my thigh, straight to my p***y. I shift in my seat, feel myself getting wet already. "Edwin..." I say it as a warning, but it comes out breathy. He doesn't move his hand. Slides it higher, slow, up my thigh. "We've been here all night. Tense as hell. Maybe we need a break." His fingers brush the edge of my skirt, push it up a little.

Oh god. My mind races. This is the guy I hate. The one who ruined my family. But right now, with his hand there, all I can think is how good it felt last time - his thick c**k slamming into me, making me come so hard. "We can't," I whisper, but my legs part a tiny bit without me telling them to. Traitor. He smirks, that mean twist of his lips. "Can't? Or won't?" His fingers reach my panties now, press against the fabric. I'm soaked - can feel it seeping through. He rubs slow, right over my c**t. I gasp, grip the table edge.

He pushes harder, circles my c**t through the thin material. Pleasure shoots through me, makes my n*****s hard, aching under my bra. I bite my lip to hold back a moan, but it slips out anyway - low and needy. "See? You want this." He leans in, mouth at my ear. Hot breath. "Let me make you come. Right here. Fingers first, then my cock."

No. Yes. s**t. My hips rock forward, grinding against his hand. "Edwin... someone could walk in." But the office is empty this late. Doors locked. Just us. His free hand grabs my chin, turns my face to his. Kisses me hard - tongue pushing in, demanding. I kiss back, hungry. His fingers slip under my panties now, touch bare skin. Slide over my slick folds, dip inside me. I whimper into his mouth, clench around him.

"So tight," he growls, pumping slow, then faster. His thumb finds my c**t again, rubs just right. I'm panting now, chest heaving. "You hate me, but look at you - dripping for my fingers." Yeah, I do hate him. But this? This feels too good. My p***y throbs, building fast. I want to feel him too - that hard d**k straining against his pants. He groans when I unzip him, wrap my hand around his c**k. Thick, hot, veins pulsing. I stroke him rough, up and down.

"f**k, Lilian." He thrusts into my hand, matches the rhythm of his fingers in me. We're both messy now, breathing heavy.

I already imagine him bending me over the table, slamming that c**k deep into my p***y, pounding until I scream. Make me forget the hate, just for a minute. f**k. Even my own mind is turning traitor. My imagination. My thoughts. Every last one of them betraying me right along with my dripping p***y.

But then his phone buzzes loud on the table. We both freeze. He pulls his hand out quick, glances at the screen. "s**t. It's the client. Early call from overseas." I yank my hand away. My p***y aches, empty now, c**t still buzzing. "Answer it," I say, voice hoarse. He grabs the phone. "Pearse here." His tone switches to business, like nothing happened.

I stand up. Can't stay here, not like this - soaked, needy, pissed at myself. He watches me, phone to his ear, but doesn't stop me. I storm out, down the dark hall to the bathroom. Splash water on my face, stare at my reflection. What the f**k am I doing? Almost let him f**k me again. For what? A quick release? No.

But god, my body's screaming for more.

Back in the office, he's off the phone. "Client wants changes. We pull an all-nighter." No mention of what just happened. Fine. I sit down, ignore the heat between us, force my eyes to the screen, pretend the air between us isn’t thick with it. I will not let him touch my p***y again. I will not. No matter how badly every nerve ending is begging for his fingers, his mouth, his c**k - right here, right now, on this damn desk.

I won’t break.

Not tonight.

We work through the night, fixing everything. By dawn, it's done. Me? I'm more messed up than ever. Hate twisting with want. Revenge? Still on... And I’ll make damn sure he never f***s me again. Especially with Daniel starting as the new consultant tomorrow.

Daniel.

Wait… is Edwin jealous? Is he actually jealous seeing Daniel stand so close to me?