Forbidden Desires

The contract was already open when Ava entered the penthouse office. Three pages. Clean font. Cold language. A year of public companionship, staged affection, and absolute discretion in exchange for debt clearance and a monthly allowance that would keep her mother in treatment. Ava had read it twice in the car. She still felt like she was signing away more than her name. Damon Cole stood behind the desk in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, watching her like he’d already decided the outcome. “Sit,” he said. She sat. “Any last questions before you sign?” Ava forced her voice steady. “The public clause is clear. The private clause is not. What does ‘additional companion duties as required’ mean?” Damon’s mouth curved slightly. “It means when we are alone, you belong to me in ways the cameras never see.” Heat slid low in her stomach, sharp and unwanted. “That’s not written.” “It is now.” He turned a fourth page toward her. “Addendum. Voluntary. If you initial it, the arrangement includes obedience in private: posture, silence when told, and s****l availability on my terms. If you refuse, the original contract still stands. Public only.” Ava stared at the addendum. She should have refused. Instead, she heard herself ask, “And if I initial it?” “Then tonight doesn’t end with a handshake.” The room felt smaller. Ava’s pulse was loud in her throat. She thought of the bills, the hospital statements, the way pride had not paid a single envelope. Then she initialed the addendum before she could lose her nerve, and signed the full contract beneath Damon’s dark gaze. He checked the pages, locked them in a drawer, and came around the desk. “Stand up.” She stood. “Good. Now kneel.” Ava’s breath caught. “Here?” “Yes.” Her knees hit the thick carpet, dress tightening across her thighs. Damon stopped in front of her and tipped her chin up with two fingers. “Rule one,” he said quietly. “In private, you address me as Sir when I require it. Rule two: you do not pretend this is romantic. Rule three: if you need it to stop, say red. Anything else, I continue.” Ava swallowed. “Yes, Sir.” “Open your mouth.” She did. Damon unfastened his belt with unhurried precision, freed his c**k, and rubbed the head across her lower lip. “You signed. Now show me you understand what you signed.” Ava took him in. He was thick, heavy on her tongue, and he didn’t let her set the pace. One hand slid into her hair and held her there while he pushed deeper, f*****g her mouth in controlled strokes that made her eyes water. The sounds were wet and shameless in the quiet office. Ava gripped her own knees to stay steady as he used her throat and murmured, “That’s it. Take it.” When he pulled free, her lips were slick and parted. “Up,” he said. “Hands on the desk.” She barely stood before he turned her, bent her over the contract desk, and shoved her dress to her waist. Her underwear was dragged down next. Cool air hit wet skin. Damon groaned under his breath. “Already soaked. For a woman who hesitated, your cunt is honest.” He pushed into her in one hard thrust. Ava cried out, fingers scrambling on polished wood as he filled her too fast, too deep. Damon gripped her hips and f****d her without mercy long strokes that slapped skin to skin, steady and brutal enough to force broken sounds out of her with every drive. One hand left her hip to press between her shoulders, pinning her chest to the desk while he took what the addendum had bought him. “You don’t come until I say,” he ordered. “Please…” “No.” He reached around and rubbed her c**t in rough circles anyway, building her ruthlessly, then stopped each time her thighs started shaking. Ava was shaking with frustration by the time he slammed deeper and held there. “Please, Sir,” she gasped. “Please let me come.” Damon kissed the back of her neck once almost gentle, not gentle enough and said, “Come.” She broke hard, clenching around him with a muffled sob. Damon f****d her through it, then buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, rough sound, filling her while her legs nearly gave out. For a moment, the only sound was their breathing. He pulled out, fixed his clothes, and placed a black box on the desk beside her still-trembling hands. Ava opened it. Inside was a slim dark collar with a silver ring. Damon’s voice was calm again. Controlled. Absolute. “Public starts tomorrow at noon,” he said. “Private starts now. Wear that next time you cross my doorway or don’t bother crossing it at all.”