*Isabella's POV*
"Please make me come," I whimpered, the words a broken, desperate plea torn from the depths of my soul.
And that was all he needed.
He yanked my panties down roughly, the lace tearing slightly with the force of it. The cool air hit my heated, wet skin, making me gasp. He unbuckled his pants, the metallic clink loud in the office, and pulled a condom from his wallet. He rolled it on with a speed that was almost violent, a man who had reached his absolute limit.
And then he thrust into me.
Without warning. Without a single goddamn word of preparation. A sharp, blinding intrusion that stole the air from my lungs and made me cry out. But thankfully, my scream was masked by the loud, aggressive hum of the vacuum cleaner down the hall.
"All you had to do was ask, baby girl," he growled, his voice a raw, possessive thing against my ear.
He didn't give me time to adjust. He just started moving, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm with his fast, deep thrusts that slammed into my pussy and against my cervix, a perfect, devastating mix of pleasure and pain. He kept one hand pressed firmly against the small of my back, pinning me down, but his other hand came up to my jaw. His fingers dug into my skin as he turned my face to the side, an impossible, uncomfortable angle, forcing me to look at him.
"Look at me," he growled, his eyes burning into mine. "No cumming, you hear me, baby?"
All I could do was nod, I bit down on my lip, hard, a small, sharp distraction from the overwhelming pleasure building inside me. He seemed pleased by my submission, by the desperate struggle to obey his command, because he claimed my lips in a kiss that was just as punishing as his thrusts, his tongue dominating my mouth, swallowing every moan I tried to suppress.
The pleasure was a tidal wave, and I was drowning. Every nerve ending in my body was screaming for release. My moans were no longer silent; they were being devoured by his kiss, but they were there, desperate and ragged. He could feel it, too. The way my pussy was clenching around him, trying to milk him for all he was worth, my body betraying my mind's desperate attempt to follow his order.
He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against my temple, his own breathing harsh and ragged. "Fuck you're such a good girl, trying so hard to be obedient," he panted, his thrusts somehow becoming even deeper, more deliberate. "But I can feel you, Isabella. I can feel how close you are."
His thumb came up to my lip, pulling it from where I was biting it. "Let go, baby," he commanded, his voice a raw, husky sound that was my final undoing. "Cum for me. Now."
The word was a key unlocking a fucking floodgate. An orgasm, more violent and intense than any before, ripped through me. My vision went white, my body convulsing against the desk as a silent scream tore from my lips. Wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss tore me apart from the inside out, my pussy clamping down on his cock like a vise.
He groaned my name, a low, husky sound, as his own orgasm followed, his body tensing as he pulsed inside me. We stayed there for a long moment, a tangled, sweaty mess on his desk, the only sounds our ragged breaths and the faint, distant hum of the vacuum cleaner that had given us our cover.
The humming of the vacuum cleaner suddenly stopped. The silence that followed was fucking deafening, a sharp, jarring sound that shattered the post-orgasmic haze we were floating in. Reality came crashing back in a brutal, unforgiving wave.
We pulled apart like we'd been electrocuted. My hands were shaking as I scrambled to pull my panties up, the damp fabric clinging to my sensitive skin. Damien was already buckling his belt, the metallic click a loud, accusatory sound in the sudden quiet of the office. We dressed in a frantic, clumsy silence, not daring to look at each other, the air thick with what we'd just done.
I was fastening the last button on my blouse, my fingers fumbling with the tiny plastic disc, when a name hit me like a fucking lightning bolt. Jacob.
Holy shit. What have I done? What have we done? We promised. We made a fucking promise.
"Damien... what have we done?" I asked, my voice a choked, horrified whisper. My eyes were wide, staring at him, but I wasn't really seeing him. All I could see was Jacob's face instead, the hurt in his eyes as he left.
"Isabella," he sighed, his own face etched with a guilt so deep it looked painful. He lifted his hand, like he wanted to reach for me, to comfort me, to erase what we'd done.
But I flinched, stepping back before his fingers could brush my skin. His touch, which had set me on fire just moments ago, now felt like a brand, a searing reminder of my betrayal.
He dropped his hand back to his side, the rejection hanging in the air between us, thick and suffocating.
My legs felt like they were made of fucking jelly, but I forced them to carry me across the room, my eyes fixed on the door, on my only escape route. "Go back to the meeting," I said, my voice tight and brittle as I reached for the handle.
Then my brain finally caught up, and a fresh wave of horror washed over me. "The door was unlocked," I exclaimed, my voice rising in panic as I spun back to face him. "What the fuck, Damien? What if someone had walked in on us?" I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm the frantic, beat of my heart, but it was no use.
"My god, Damien," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "Not only are we fucking cheaters who broke the promise we made to Jacob, we're fools too." I couldn't look at him anymore. I spun around and walked away, needing to put as much distance between us as possible.
"Isabella, come back here and talk to me," he said, his voice a raw, desperate plea that made me halt in my tracks. But I still didn't turn. I couldn't. If I looked at him, I might break, or I, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing.
"I'm sorry, Damien," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I need time to think." And with that, I walked out of his office, leaving him standing there in the silent, wreckage of what we'd just done.