Lina froze.
His jaw flexed. "Don't make me repeat myself."
That voice—steel beneath velvet—made her breath hitch. She climbed onto his lap, legs tucked demurely to one side, her skirt riding up, barely covering the tops of her thighs. She felt the heat of his body immediately, the press of his thighs under her, the faint tremble in her limbs betraying how very much she wanted this. Had wanted this for weeks.
He slid a hand up her thigh, fingers teasing under the hem of her skirt. "You've been driving me fucking insane," he murmured against her temple. "Walking around this office in that skirt. You don't even know what you do to me, do you?"
"I—I wasn't trying to—"
"Oh, but you were. Sweet little thing, pretending not to notice how my eyes stay on your ass every time you bend over."
She gasped softly as his hand gripped the back of her neck, tilting her head back. His lips brushed her jaw, his breath hot. "And now I'm going to show you exactly what you've been begging for."
Then his mouth was on hers—hungry, consuming, tasting her like he had a right to. Her lips parted with a sigh and he took the invitation, tongue sliding deep, one arm banding around her waist to hold her tight against him. She moaned softly, fingers gripping his shoulders, caught between fear and need.
When he broke the kiss, she was trembling.
"You ever been touched like this before, Lina?"
She shook her head.
His eyes darkened. "Good."
He stood suddenly, lifting her with him as if she weighed nothing, setting her on the edge of the desk. The wood was cool under her thighs, the position forcing her legs to part. He tugged her skirt higher with slow, deliberate hands, exposing white cotton panties beneath.
"Look at that," he murmured, tracing a finger down the damp center of her panties. "Soaked already. You like this? Knowing you belong to me now?"
She whimpered. "Yes"
"Luca," he growled. "When I've got my fingers in your pussy, you don't answer without saying my name, Say it."
"L-Luca…"
"Good girl."
He hooked his fingers in her panties and tugged them down, slowly, watching her the entire time. Then he sank to his knees before her, spreading her thighs wide, exposing her glistening folds. Her scent hit him like a drug. His tongue flicked out, tasted, then dove in—lapping up her arousal, sucking her clit gently, relentlessly. Lina's hands flew to his hair, moaning so sweetly, back arching as pleasure stole her breath.
"Aah—Luca—please, I—it's too much—!"
"No, it's not," he murmured, voice muffled against her soaked pussy. "You're going to take everything I give you."
Two fingers slid inside her—long, thick, curling just right—and she cried out, head thrown back, heels digging into the desk's edge. He worked her open, slow and firm, tongue still flicking her clit with obscene devotion until she shattered, spasming around his fingers, thighs trembling.
But he wasn't done.
He stood, licking her off his lips, eyes blazing. "I want to feel that pussy stretch around my cock, angel. Think you can take it?"
She nodded, dazed, whispering, "Yes…"
He unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and let his cock spring free—thick, flushed, veins pulsing along the shaft. Her eyes widened.
"Don't worry," he smirked, rubbing the head along her slick slit, catching her gasps with his mouth. "You'll fit."
And then he pressed in—inch by inch, forcing her open, claiming her tight heat with slow, delicious torment. She was so wet he slid deep, hips flush against her ass, and she gasped, eyes fluttering as she clung to his arms.
"Fuck, you feel like heaven," he gritted, and pulled back to thrust again—harder, deeper, watching the way her body arched and shook beneath him. "Mine, Lina. Say it."
"Yours—yours, I'm yours—!"
He fucked her against the desk, hard and unrelenting, the room echoing with the wet slap of skin, her cries, his growls. Each thrust knocked papers to the floor, glasses rattled. She clung to him, nails raking down his back as he buried himself over and over.
When he came, it was with a deep groan, hips grinding into her as he spilled inside, holding her tight, forehead pressed to hers. She trembled around him, gasping, lips brushing his in the aftershock.
"From now on," he murmured, still buried inside her, "you don't leave this office unless I say so. Understood?"
"Yes, Luca…"
His cock twitched at the sound of his name on her breathless lips.
And he didn't pull out.
she pulled away.
Fast.
Breathing hard, mouth red, eyes flashing, legs shaking.
He let go.
Didn't chase her.
Didn't say a word for a moment.
Then, almost too calmly: "You won't forget that."
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"I already have," she lied.
And turned away before he could see the part of her that wanted to go back for more.
Lina walked out of his office just before 2 a.m.
Her blouse was buttoned wrong — she corrected it by the elevator. Her heels clicked too loud in the dead hallway. The air still smelled like him, like leather and control and promises she never meant to keep.
She didn't look back.
But her body did.
She could still feel him — in every step, every inch of skin he'd touched, claimed, marked. It wasn't just sex. It had never just been sex. It was a shift in gravity. A line crossed with no hope of return.
And even as she told herself it was a mistake, a betrayal of everything she'd promised herself, she heard it again:
"Yours—yours, I'm yours—!"
She'd said it.
Not whispered it. Cried it.
And worse — she'd meant it.
Even now, hours later, the memory clamped around her chest like a fist.
She remembered what he said, too — low, commanding, brutal:
"From now on," he'd growled, still inside her, breath hot against her ear, "you don't leave this office unless I say so. Understood?"
And she had nodded.
God help her, she'd nodded.
Now, the sun was up, and the war had changed.
By the time she entered the office floor the next morning, the air had shifted.
It wasn't just whispers.
It was knowledge.
Someone had seen. Or heard. Or simply sensed it in the air the way animals know when a storm is coming.
The first glance was from Sofia — cold and calculating. The second from Jonas — unreadable, but tighter at the mouth than usual. The third from some junior analyst who stammered a greeting like she was royalty or radioactive.
Lina said nothing.
Her walk was steady. Her face blank.
But inside, she burned.
Her office door closed behind her with a hiss of finality.
Across the hall, Luca's glass was blacked out.
She didn't know if he was in there. Didn't care.
Not really.
She opened her laptop. Pulled up the first report. Typed two lines before her hands stilled on the keyboard.
You don't leave unless I say so.
She sat back in her chair, exhaled slowly.
She wasn't his.
She couldn't be.
But her body still remembered.
And her pride hated how much it wanted to go back in there and give him something worse than permission.
It wanted to give him everything.
And that was the most dangerous thing of all.