Tasting my colleague (2)

Jane POV 

God, what did I just do? Masturbating in the office toilet with the thoughts of Brian— of all people. The guy who has been my nemesis for years.

I stuff my bag under my arm and slip out praying that no one around sees my disheveled face.

Back at the desk, I bury myself in emails but eyes kept darting at the clock.

All I need to do is to avoid Brian until the end of the day. This promotion meeting is over and I can hide in my cubicle like a coward.

Of course, luck isn't on my side. As I'm grabbing my coat to head out early, there he is—Brian, striding down the hall with that infuriating swagger. He spots me immediately, his eyes narrowing like he's sensing prey.

“Hey, Jane, running away already? Afraid Hargrove's gonna see through your smoke and mirrors?” His voice is laced with that usual sarcasm, but there's a glint in his eye, like he knows something's up. 

Does he? No, impossible. But my stomach twisted anyway while embarrassment flooded me.

I force a glare, keeping my distance as I sidestep him toward the elevators. 'Save it, Brian. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit today.' 

But inside, I'm screaming. Why does his voice do that to me now? That low, teasing drawl that echoes the fantasies I just had—his commands, his grip.

I hate it. I hate him. And yet, as he falls into step beside me as I notice how close he's standing. Too close.

His arm brushes mine accidentally—or is it?—and a shiver runs down my spine. My skin prickles, hyper-aware of his presence while the heat radiating off him. This is torture.

We step inside together, the doors sliding shut with a soft whoosh and the space feels impossibly tight, like the walls are closing in.

It's just us, the hum of the machinery, the only sound breaking the quiet.

I stare at the floor numbers lighting up, avoiding his gaze at all costs. My heart's hammering, and I can feel the dampness between my legs again—traitorous body remembering the toilet all too well.

What if he smells it? What if he guesses? The silence stretches, and I shift my weight, crossing my arms to create some barrier.

Then it happens—the elevator lurches violently, a metallic groan echoing as it grinds to a halt between floors. My stomach drops as panic spikes through me. 'What the—?' I gasp, grabbing the railing.

Brian's already at the panel, jabbing the emergency button repeatedly and a faint alarm buzzes, but nothing.

“Great,' he mutters, 'stuck. Emergency services will be here soon, probably.”

'This is your fault,' I blurt out, my voice higher than usual, laced with that irrational blame. 'You jinxed it with your big mouth.'

Inner me is freaking—trapped with him, of all people?

After what I just did? But he just laughs, that deep, mocking sound that makes my thighs clench despite myself. 

“My fault? Come on, Jane, don't blame me for your bad karma. Or is it that you're just rattled from our little chat earlier? You looked... flushed.”

'Shut up,' I snap, turning to face him, but the argument reignites that fire in my belly. 

We're arguing again, voices bouncing off the walls—him calling me out on my 'desperate tactics,' me firing back about his ego—but underneath, the proximity hits me. 

We're alone, really alone, no office buffer. I notice his height now and how he towers over me by a good six inches with his broad chest.

His cologne wraps around me, and I swear I can hear my pulse in my ears.

He notices too—his eyes linger on my face, then drop to where my chest rises and falls too quickly. “You okay there, Jane? You're looking at me like you want to punch me... or something else.”

His tone shifts, teasing turns curious, and heat creeps up my neck. Does he know? 

The body's awareness is electric now and the air changes. I can feel the warmth of him, inches away, and my mind flashes to the fantasy—his hands on me, rough and demanding.

The elevator jerks again, harder this time, throwing me off balance. I stumble forward, right into him while my hands splay against his chest for support.

His one hand grabbing my arm to steady me and the other brushing my waist while we froze like that, faces inches apart and breaths mingling.

His grip is firm, not letting go, and I look up into his eyes—dark, surprised, but heating with something primal.

My body's on fire, nipples hard against my bra and my pussy aching from the earlier tease. 

This is a terrible idea. He's the enemy. But fuck it all—the tension's been building since the conference room, and being this close, trapped... I can't think straight.

Before I can stop myself, I surge up on my toes and crash my lips against his. It's aggressive, all teeth and frustration, my hands fisting his shirt to pull him closer. 

Brian follows my lead for a split second—stunned, then kissing back hard, his tongue invading my mouth like he's claiming victory.

“Jane—“ he growls against my lips, but I shove him back against the wall while my fingers are yanking off his belt. 

“Shut up and fuck me,” I hiss, hating how desperate I sound, but the inner conflict is drowned out by need. This is pure and simple—punishing him for making me want this.

Brian chuckles darkly, but lets me take charge while his hands are roaming up my skirt as I free his cock. It's thick and hard already while springing out as I stroke it roughly.

“Bossy now, are we?” Brian spins me around in one fluid move and my palms slapping the elevator wall. 

His hand fists in my hair while yanking my head back just enough to arch my spine. 

“My turn,”he murmurs as his hot breath on my neck, and Brian shoves my panties aside.

Brian thrusts into me from behind and his cock stretches my soaked pussy in one brutal stroke. 

“Fuck,” I cry out with the mixture of both pain and pleasure hitting me like a drug.

“Fuck, you're wet,” he grunts pulling my hair harder to control the angle as his pounding fast and deep into me.

Brian hips slamming against my ass as each thrust making my breasts bounce. 

My fucking clit is grinding against nothing but pure pleasure.

“Hate you,” I gasp, but my body's betraying me pushing back to meet him.

Brian spanks my ass once and sharp then reaches around to rub my clit roughly.

“Liar,” he taunts as his voice strained. “Your cunt's gripping me like it loves it.”

My hair pull tightens while forcing me to take every inch of his balls slapping my skin.

This is so insane, wrong, but god, it feels good and the hate fueling the fire until I'm moaning his name. “Fuck… Brian I never knew you were this fucking good.”

Brian drives harder, grunting with each plunge “Yes princess take all my fucking cock in.”

“Fuckkk… Brian am going to fucking cum.” I cried out while I could feel my orgasm ripping through me and my pussy spasming as I soak his cock. 

Brian follows seconds later, burying deep and flooding me with hot cum as his grip bruises my hip. 

We pant and slumped against the wall while his forehead is on my shoulder.

Then—a ding. The lights flicker, and the doors slide open.

I pull away first, yanking my skirt down and smoothing my hair as I step out into the lobby. Act normal. Just act normal.

Brian follows behind, zipping up casually. 'You are still insufferable,' I snapped over my shoulder, voice shaky but defiant.

He chuckles, low and knowing. 'Funny,' Brian replies. 'You didn’t seem to think so a few minutes ago.'