LOGINMarcusJulian watches me closely through narrowed eyes, his gaze tracking every micro-expression on my face. It takes every single ounce of my legendary corporate restraint not to clench my jaw, not to give away even a fraction of a reaction to the way Sarah is expertly devouring my cock under the desk.She’s blowing me with a level of enthusiasm that is downright lethal. It’s a miracle I’m still standing—or rather, sitting straight—while my ex-business partner stands three feet away. I’m honestly shocked she isn't making a single gagging sound with how deeply she’s taking all of me down her throat.“You’ll tell her I stopped by?” Julian asks, his voice steady as he turns his gaze out toward the sprawling skyline behind me.“I don’t see the reason for it,” I reply, keeping my tone perfectly flat, completely detached. “From the way she’s spoken, the two of you are entirely over, Julian. It doesn’t seem like she has any desire to speak to you.”As if she’s actively nodding in agreement
SarahI don't need a second invitation. I run my tongue slowly up the length before burying him inside my mouth. I open my throat, taking every single inch he gives me, fighting the natural instinct to gag as he stretches my jaw completely.His fingers instantly tangle into my hair, his grip tight and anchoring as he gently guides my pace. “You suck this cock so fucking well, baby,” he hits out through clenched teeth, his hips twitching slightly. He swallows hard, his jaw tight. “That’s it. Gag on it for me.”I let out a muffled moan, completely drunk on the power of having him at my mercy. I’m swirling my tongue around the head when a sudden, aggressive knock rattles the office door.I freeze, my heart stopping. Marcus curses colorfully, his hand instantly tightening on my scalp to keep me from moving.“Busy!” he barks toward the door, his voice lethal.“Like I give a shit,” a familiar, arrogant voice cuts through the wood.My eyes snap up to Marcus, wide with sheer panic. Julian.Ju
SarahTo: Sarah KaneFrom: Marcus KaneBaby, I’d be upset by how sweet my coffee tastes this morning, but I don’t know if it’s from you adding a bit of the West Coast to it or because the taste of your sweet pussy still coats my tongue from this morning. Either way, I don’t hate it. Sincerely, The man who is dying to bend you over his desk and take you again after watching you walk around in that skirt all damn day.I stare at my computer screen, reading the message three times while pressing my thighs tightly together to stifle the sudden, violent wave of arousal. My fingers hover over the keys as I try to form a coherent response, my face burning.I look up across the room. From my side of the massive, glass-walled conference room, I can see Marcus sitting at the head of the table. He looks entirely unbothered, calmly adjusting his cuffs while the board members around him are locked in a heated debate about regional logistics. They look furious; I just feel hot, soaked, and utterly
SarahMy breath catches in my throat. I’ve never met a man who can string together the sweetest, most romantic concepts and the absolute filthiest demands in the exact same breath. It’s a terrifying talent. I am literally melting into a puddle at his feet.“You have exactly two seconds to turn around and grab your things before I say fuck it and throw you over my shoulder,” he warns, his jaw tensing. “I’m pissed at you for even thinking you wouldn’t be joining me tonight. If you don't move fast, baby, I’ll drag you back to my room myself and make you pay for every second you wasted.”I let out a tiny, high-pitched yelp, instantly spinning around and taking the stairs two at a time. My clit is throbbing a frantic rhythm against my underwear. The ridiculous thing is, his threats never actually feel like threats. They feel like a promise.And for some twisted, chaotic reason... I suddenly want to make him wait. I want to see exactly how solid his patience is when it comes to me.“I’ll be
Sarah“I think I’m going to go to bed,” I announce, fighting a massive yawn as I push the knit blanket off my lap.Marcus and I had settled onto the couch to relax after the chaotic blur of getting back to Manhattan. Well, *I* relaxed—mostly just spacing out and doodling random shapes in my sketchbook while the TV played low background noise. Marcus, on the other hand, had been furiously typing on his laptop and hammering away on his phone the entire time. I’d tried telling him he could go work in his actual office, but he’d insisted on staying right here in the living room with me. I wasn’t exactly about to fight him on it.Right now, his thumb is casually brushing over the inside of my ankle while his eyes remain locked on whatever numbers are flashing across his screen. About an hour ago, right in the middle of a high-stakes business call with his investors, he’d reached out, grabbed my feet from where they were resting against his thigh, and started methodically massaging the sole
MarcusSarah’s head fell to Marcus’s shoulder as the private elevator glided silently up to his Manhattan penthouse, tired after twenty four hours.“I’m so happy to be home and to see Oliver,” she murmured, breaking the quiet.Marcus swallowed the unexpected lump of emotion tightening his throat. “Me too,” he said quietly.He didn't elaborate on the fact that he had felt more genuinely at home sharing a small bed with her at that snowbound inn than he ever had living alone in this multi-million dollar fortress. Truth be told, he was just grateful to return to the quiet, domestic rhythm they had built over the past month. Nothing in Marcus's life had ever truly felt like a home until her, and the realization that this sterile penthouse was slowly becoming one because of her presence was both exhilarating and terrifying.The elevator chimed, the heavy doors sliding open directly into the penthouse gallery.Before the doors had even fully retracted, "Mommy!"Oliver, his dark curls bounc
Sarah The meeting had been a bloodbath. Or rather, a clinical dissection. Marcus had excused himself almost immediately after the papers were signed, claiming a "pressing engagement" and instructing Ezra to wait for Sarah. It was a calculated move—a silent permission for the inevitable collision t
JulianThe sun was already baking the turf at the Club, but Julian didn't care. He enjoyed the heat; it provided a physical distraction from the pressure mounting in his chest. It felt as though a hydraulic press was slowly closing in on his lungs, turning every breath into a chore."You're standin
SarahThe walk to the café was short, barely a block from the main entrance of the office building. Julian stayed a half-step ahead, opening the heavy glass door and stepping aside to let Sarah pass. He didn't say much, just guided her toward a small table in the back corner, away from the midday r
SarahSarah kicked off her heels the second she stepped inside the house, the cold marble was a cold opposite to the heat that had been building in her chest all afternoon. The quiet of the estate was a massive relief after the noise of the city and the suffocating tension of the boardroom, but he







