Terms & Conditions PART 2
The meeting is an exercise in exquisite torture. For two hours, I lead the discussion with a cold, clinical precision, my voice steady and authoritative as I navigate the merger details. But beneath the table, my mind is a riot of filth. Every time I catch your eye, I see the flicker of panic and desire, and it only makes me want you more. I watch you struggle to focus, your gaze drifting to my lips or the way my suit jacket pulls across my chest, and I know you're thinking about the way I tasted you last night.
Once the meeting finally adjourns, the room clears out in a flurry of shuffling papers and polite goodbyes. You linger, pretending to be meticulously organized, fidgeting with your pens and laptop, your movements jerky and nervous. You're waiting for the door to click shut behind the last executive, leaving us in a heavy, charged silence.
I don't move at first. I stay seated at the head of the table, watching you struggle with your bag, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on.
"I... I just wanted to say," you start, your voice small and shaky. You finally look at me, your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "I had no idea we worked for partner companies. I mean, the bar, and then... last night... I just didn't know. I won't tell anyone, I swear. I'm not trying to make this weird or unprofessional, I just—"
You keep rambling, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush, but I'm already standing. I walk toward you slowly, the click of my heels on the hardwood floor echoing like a countdown. I don't stop until I'm deep in your personal space, the scent of your perfume mixing with the lingering ghost of the sex we shared.
You stop talking mid-sentence, your breath hitching as I close the final inch of distance. I reach up, my palm warm and firm as I cup your cheek, my thumb brushing over your lower lip. Your eyes are wide, your chest heaving.
I lean in and press my lips to yours, hard and sudden, cutting off your apology with a deep, demanding kiss. It’s not a gentle gesture; it’s a claim. I taste the coffee on your breath and the desperation in your gasp as you melt against me, your hands instinctively clutching at the lapels of my suit. I linger there for a moment, letting you feel the heat of my body against yours, reminding you exactly who is in control.
I pull back just a fraction, my lips still grazing yours. "There is no issue," I murmur, my voice a low, sultry vibration. "In fact, I find the coincidence rather...stimulating."
I let my hand slide from your cheek down to your neck, squeezing lightly. "I have a reservation at the hotel’s restaurant for tonight. I'd love for you to join me." You nod quickly, breathless and dazed, barely managing to whisper a "yes."
"Good. Meet me in the lobby at seven," I say, stepping back and regaining my professional poise in an instant. As we both turn to leave the room, I catch up to you at the door. I don't stop walking, but as I pass you, I lean in close, my lips brushing the shell of your ear. My voice is a predatory whisper that sends a visible shiver down your spine.
"I bet you're so fucking wet for me right now," I breathe, the words explicit and raw. Before you can even gasp, I'm gone, walking down the hallway with a confident, rhythmic stride, leaving you standing there trembling and completely destroyed.
germansingergirl
stormborns
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
titsay
