Chapter 8
1235 Words
The Rival's Shadow
The boardroom on the 50th floor of Blackwell Tower hummed with the low buzz of pre-meeting chatter. Ava smoothed her hands over the fitted black sheath dress Lucian had laid out that morning, another silent command in fabric form. It hugged her like a glove, professional but with an edge that made her feel exposed. She stood at the coffee station, pouring a fresh pot, her role as assistant still a thin veil over the truth.
The door swung open and in walked Damien Voss.
She'd heard the name in whispers around the office, Lucian's fiercest rival, CEO of Voss Industries, the man who'd tried to poach half of Blackwell's top talent last year. He was everything Lucian wasn't blond where Lucian was dark, charming where Lucian was cold, with a smile that promised fun instead of fury. Mid-thirties, sharp suit, eyes the color of aged whiskey.
He spotted her immediately, striding over with a grin that lit up the room. You must be the new blood keeping Blackwell on his toes. Damien Voss. He extended a hand, holding her gaze a beat too long.
Ava shook it, polite but wary. Ava Harper. Can I get you a coffee?
Only if you join me. He leaned against the counter, close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne fresh, citrusy, nothing like Lucian's brooding cedar. Tell me, how does a woman like you end up working for a shark like him? You seem too alive for this place.
She laughed despite herself, a light sound that felt foreign after weeks of tension. Appearances can be deceiving.
His eyes sparkled. Oh, I hope so. Dinner sometime? I know a spot in SoHo that serves the best risotto. No business talk, I promise just good company.
Before she could respond, the room shifted. Lucian entered, his presence sucking the air out like a vacuum. His gaze locked on them, on Damien's easy lean, Ava's half-smile. The temperature dropped ten degrees.
Voss, Lucian said, voice clipped. Early. Desperate?
Damien straightened, unfazed. Just making friends. Your assistant here is a gem. You should give her a raise or I'll poach her myself.
Lucian's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking. He crossed to Ava in two strides, ignoring the gathering executives. Without a word, he cupped her face, tilted it up and kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Right there in front of everyone.
It wasn't a peck. It was a claim tongue sweeping in, hand fisting in her hair, body pressing her back against the counter until the edge dug into her hips. She gasped into his mouth, hands instinctively clutching his lapels. Heat flooded her, equal parts shock and unwelcome desire.
The room went dead silent.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against her lips, loud enough for Damien to hear: She's not available. For dinner. Or anything else.
Damien chuckled, but it was forced. Message received, Blackwell. Territorial as ever.
Lucian didn't release her until the meeting started, his hand lingering on her lower back as he guided her to a seat beside him. Throughout the hour-long negotiation over a merger that could crush Voss's market share Ava felt his thigh pressed against hers under the table, a silent reminder. Damien kept stealing glances her way, winking once when Lucian wasn't looking. Each time, Lucian's grip on his pen tightened until she thought it might snap.
By the end, the deal was inked in Blackwell's favor. Voss left with a handshake that looked painful, muttering, Until next time, Ava.
Lucian didn't speak in the elevator ride up to the penthouse. The silence was thunderous, his body a coiled spring beside her. The second the doors opened, he exploded.
He shoved her against the foyer wall, mouth on hers before she could breathe. This kiss was different, angry, bruising, his teeth nipping her lower lip hard enough to draw a whimper.
You let him flirt with you, he growled, hands pinning her wrists above her head. Laughed at his bullshit lines.
I was being polite, she shot back, even as her body arched into him. It's called professionalism.
Bullshit. He dragged her to the bedroom by her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to ignite that dark spark in her veins. You liked the attention. From him.
Inside, he released her, yanking open a drawer. Out came silk ties soft, black, the kind made for exactly this.
Strip, he ordered, voice low and dangerous.
Ava's heart raced. Part of her wanted to defy him, to push back. But the heat pooling between her thighs won. She peeled off the dress slowly, letting it pool at her feet, standing in lace panties and heels.
His eyes darkened to near-black. On the bed. Hands to the headboard.
She complied, stretching out on the silk sheets, vulnerable under his gaze. He tied her wrists to the slats, knots secure but not cutting. Then her ankles, spreading her legs wide. Exposed.
He stood back, admiring his work, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You need a reminder of who you belong to.
The punishment started slowly. He trailed a finger down her body, from throat to navel, avoiding where she ached most. She squirmed, testing the ties they held firm.
Please, she whispered.
He smirked. Begging already? Pathetic.
His mouth followed the path his finger had taken, kissing, licking, biting. A nip at her collarbone that made her gasp. A suck on her breast that arched her back. Lower, his breath hot against her core, but he skipped it, teasing her inner thighs instead.
Lucian
Shut up. He bit down on the soft skin there, hard enough to leave a mark, pain blooming into pleasure that made her cry out. You'll take what I give you.
Finally, his tongue found her, but it was torturous light flicks, then deep strokes, building her up only to pull away when she teetered on the edge. Again and again. Sweat slicked her skin, she pulled at the ties until her wrists burned.
Pain and pleasure, he murmured against her, fingers joining his mouth, curling inside her. That's what you get for making me jealous. For making me want to kill him just for looking at you.
She shattered then, the orgasm ripping through her like fire, body convulsing against the restraints. But he didn't stop. He climbed over her, shedding the rest of his clothes and thrust into her while she was still pulsing, over-sensitive and raw.
It was rough at first punishing snaps of his hips, each one mixing ache with ecstasy. She moaned his name, half protest, half prayer. Gradually it softened, his mouth found hers, kisses turning tender even as his pace didn't slow. Pain blurred into pleasure, pleasure into something deeper, until they were both lost in it.
When he came, it was with a groan buried in her neck, body shuddering. He untied her immediately after, rubbing her wrists, kissing the red marks.
You're mine, he said hoarsely, pulling her into his arms. Don't forget it.
Ava nestled against him, heart pounding, wondering if the real punishment was how much she didn't want to forget. Jealousy had cracked his armor and through the fissures, she glimpsed the man she'd once loved, the one who might still love her back.
But shadows lingered. Damien's card burned in her purse, slipped there during the meeting. A rival's shadow, indeed
- Writer
