004

Emma didn’t know if her heart was racing from fear, anticipation, or the way Adrian’s gaze always seemed to see right through her.

Adrian appeared suddenly, standing in the doorway, suit crisp, aura sharp, and commanding. He didn’t knock. His eyes locked on hers, and something inside her clenched.

“Emma,” he said softly, almost dangerously, “you have been entertaining someone else’s attention.”

Her stomach flipped. “I—”

“You haven’t been careful,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “I can see every glance, every reaction. You think you are subtle, but I know.”

“I—no, Daddy, it is nothing!” she protested, heat rising in her cheeks.

“Is it nothing?” His voice dropped low.

He circled her desk like a predator, eyes roaming her figure with intent. “Because I feel it. That little thrill you get when someone else looks at you… it belongs to me to notice. And it belongs to me to punish.”

Emma’s breath hitched. “I didn’t—”

“You did,” he said softly, but with an edge that made her shiver.

“Even the smallest slip is mine to correct.”

Adrian’s fingers brushed her cheek.

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes… Daddy,” she whispered, almost trembling.

He stepped back, giving her the smallest pause, before leaning in closer again.

“You are mine,” he murmured. “And no one else touches you. You hear me?”

Emma nodded, heart pounding. “I… understand.”

“Good girl,” he said approvingly, voice low and husky.

“And tonight, we will remind you why that is true.”

Adrian didn’t take her home.

He locked the office door, turned the blinds, and pointed to the wide mahogany desk that dominated the room.

“Strip everything off. Then bend over it.”

Emma’s fingers shook as she obeyed, blouse and skirt pooling at her feet, bra and panties following. The cool air of the office kissed her skin, raising goosebumps. She folded herself over the desk, breasts pressed to the polished wood, arms stretched forward, cheek turned so she could watch him in the reflection of the dark computer monitor.

Adrian removed his jacket slowly, rolled up his sleeves, and unbuckled his belt. The leather hissed through the loops, and the sound alone made her clench.

“You flirted with the idea of someone else noticing you,” he said, voice lethally soft. “So tonight I am going to make sure the only thing anyone ever sees again is me.”

He stepped behind her. The first strike of the belt landed across both cheeks, sharp and perfect. Emma cried out, back arching. He didn’t give her time to breathe. Another strike, then another, until her ass turned crimson and tears pricked her eyes.

Only when she was trembling, gasping, did he drop the belt and run a soothing palm over the welts.

“Color?” he asked, checking in the way he always did.

“Green, Daddy,” she whimpered. “Please… more.”

He gave a dark, satisfied hum.

His fingers slid between her thighs, finding her drenched. Two fingers pushed inside roughly, curling, pumping, until her hips rocked back shamelessly.

“This cunt leaks for punishment,” he growled. “Only for me.”

He withdrew, and she heard the rustle of fabric. Then the head of his cock nudged her entrance. He didn’t ease in. He slammed home in one brutal thrust that shoved the heavy desk forward an inch. Emma screamed, fingers scrabbling for the opposite edge.

Adrian set a merciless pace, hips crashing against her sore ass with every stroke, the sting of the belt flaring anew each time their bodies met. One hand fisted in her hair, wrenching her head back; the other snaked around to pinch and twist her clit until she sobbed.

He pulled out suddenly, spun her around, and lifted her onto the desk. Papers scattered to the floor. He shoved her thighs wide, stepped between them, and drove back in so hard her back arched off the wood.

His mouth latched onto the side of her neck. He sucked viciously. At the same time he fucked her harder, deeper, angling to hit that spot that made her vision white out.

Emma came with a broken wail, walls clamping around him, nails raking down his shoulders through his shirt. He bit down harder, growling as her pulse thundered under his tongue, and kept thrusting until her second orgasm tore through her on the heels of the first.

Only then did he let himself go. He buried himself to the hilt and came with a snarl, flooding her, hips jerking as he emptied every drop.

When he finally pulled back, he traced the bruise with one thumb, eyes glittering with raw possession.

“Tomorrow,” he said, voice rough, “every person in this building will see that mark and know exactly who you belong to. If anyone so much as looks at you too long, they will see my brand on your skin and remember.”

He leaned in, brushing a deceptively gentle kiss over the bruise.

“And if you ever forget again, little girl… I will paint you in so many marks you will never see your own skin again.”

Emma stayed sprawled across the desk, chest heaving, and thighs trembling.

Adrian straightened his cuffs, calm and devastating once more.

“Get dressed,” he murmured. “Leave the top buttons undone. I want the whole floor to see what happens when someone forgets who they belong to.”

She nodded, breathless, already reaching for her ruined panties with shaking fingers.

“Yes, Daddy.”