The office was too quiet for that hour. He said he would be alone, and that already changed the atmosphere even before I arrived. As soon as I entered, he closed the door calmly, looked me up and down, and smiled. "You smell wonderful today." The way he said it gave me goosebumps. It wasn't just any compliment. It was possessiveness. He led me to a low pouf in the middle of the room. I sat down slowly, feeling his gaze burning my skin. He walked towards me with an almost insolent confidence, already completely undressed, as if that space were merely a backdrop for what was about to happen. He stopped in front of me. The silence became heavy. I slid my hands over his body, feeling every reaction, every deeper breath. I went down slowly, exploring, teasing. He groaned softly when I felt his tension in my hands. The way he surrendered to my mouth, to my touches, revealed how involved he already was. He held my hair firmly, not to hurt me, but to guide me. To set the pace. To show who was in control at that moment. Then it was his turn. His hands found my body with contained urgency. They slid down my thighs, making their way under the fabric, exploring slowly before losing patience. His fingers invaded me intensely, drawing a moan from me that I had to swallow. This was the office. The risk was part of the excitement. "Take that off." His voice was low and firm. I stood up. He turned me towards the desk, pressing his body against mine. I felt his tension rubbing against me, increasing with each passing second. My body was already responding, hot, surrendered, wet. He protected himself before pulling me closer. When he entered me, the movement was strong, decisive. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly. Each thrust was accompanied by a whispered warning for me to remain silent. The restraint only made everything more intense. Then he led me to another part of the office, near a huge window. The city light contrasted with what was happening inside. With my back to him, I felt his hands firmly on my waist, the rhythm becoming deeper, more demanding. He led me to his own chair. He laid me down there, opened my legs, and looked at me as if appreciating a work of art he wanted to completely master. The movement became more intense, faster, more desperate. When he finished, he pulled me close. His gaze was different, satisfied, almost proud. He took off the condom, put it in my mouth, and gave his milk to the hungry kitten. I swallowed every drop and, with a mischievous smile, looked at him there, kneeling. And I left there with his perfume still on my skin and the feeling that that office would never again be just a workplace. By Selene