My desire

"Do you want to know what happens to nosy little girls who can't stay away from other people's privacy?" he said, taking one step closer to me.

I shook my head fast. "No..."

Oh man. How did I find myself in this situation? How?

He was so close now I could feel his heartbeat. Or was it mine? I was seriously sweating, my blouse sticking to my back.

He used one finger to lift my chin, forcing me to look at him. His grey eyes were dark, angry, but burning.

"Don't ever think about coming in here again," he whispered. "Or..."

His eyes slowly dropped, going down my body, from my lips to my chest to my shaking legs.

"I will kiss those lips until they're swollen. Every inch of you will arch for me. Your legs will go numb. You won't be able to walk."

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear.

"Do you want that, Ryan?"

I nodded frantically, tears in my eyes. "No... no please, let me go... please, sir..."

He just kept looking at me while I shook like a little rat that had just been cornered.

Then, quietly, he stepped to the side. Cleared the way to the door.

He watched me run.

I ran out of that room like my life depended on it

FRIDAY NIGHT — AFTER THE OFFICE

I got home at 9pm. My body was still shaking.

Ethan was on the couch playing game. Leo was asleep.

"You're late," Ethan said without looking up.

I didn't answer. I went straight to the bathroom, locked the door, and looked at myself in the mirror.

My face was red. My lips were parted. My shirt was slightly open from running.

Do you want to know what happens to nosy little girls?

I will kiss your lips till they're swollen. Your legs will go numb.

Alexander's voice was inside my head on repeat.

I splashed water on my face. "Stop, Ryan, stop."

But I couldn't stop.

I went to the bedroom and lay down. Ethan came in later and lay beside me, his back to me, smelling of beer.

But Alexander... Alexander looked at my body like he wanted to devour it.

I closed my eyes and I could see it again — that big black bed. The silver handcuffs. The whips.

And him, standing behind me, shutting the door.

What if I had said YES?

What if I said, "Yes sir, I want that"?

Would he have pushed me onto that bed? Would he have grabbed my wrists and put them in those cuffs? Would he have lifted my chin again and kissed me like he promised?

My stomach tightened. A heat spread through my whole body, between my legs. A heat Ethan hasn't given me in years.

I squeezed my thighs together, guilty "I'm a married woman. I'm a mother. Why am I wet thinking about my boss threatening me?"

The heat wouldn't leave my body.

I was tossing and turning. Alexander's voice was still there. Your legs will go numb.

I looked at Ethan's back. He was snoring lightly, wearing his old boxers.

Something broke inside me. I wanted to kill the fantasy with reality. I wanted my husband to make me feel something, anything, to prove I was still a good wife.

I touched his shoulder.

"Ethan..." I whispered.

He grunted. "What?"

I moved closer, my hand on his chest. "Touch me... please?"

He turned, half asleep, annoyed. "Ryan, I'm tired."

"Please, just... just once. Like we used to," I begged, my voice small. "Make love to me."

He sighed, like I was stressing him. He rolled over on top of me, not even kissing me properly. Just routine. Fast. Cold. No foreplay, no whisper, no looking at me.

He did it like he was doing laundry. Like it was a job.

I closed my eyes and tried to feel it. I tried to imagine passion. But there was no fire. No dominance. No I want you.

It was over in less than three minutes. He rolled off me and went back to sleep.

"Goodnight," he mumbled.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, empty. Not satisfied at all. My body was still aching, still burning, but now with disappointment too.

It wasn't wild. It wasn't passionate. He didn't grab my chin. He didn't whisper dirty threats that made my heart race. He didn't make my legs go numb.

He just... finished.

Tears rolled down my cheek in the dark.

And in that moment, I hated myself for thinking it — but I wished it was Alexander on top of me, not my husband

Part of me was terrified of Alexander Sterling.

But God forgive me... another part of me wanted to go back into that room.

I was sure he would fire me.

I spent the whole weekend rehearsing my apology. "Sir, I'm so sorry, I was just curious, it will never happen again."

I walked into Sterling Tower on Monday at 7:55am, ready to be humiliated.

But Alexander acted like Friday never happened.

"Ryan. Black coffee. Two sugars. And the Miller file. Now," he said without even looking up from his laptop.

No mention of the room. No mention of the bed. No mention of how I ran.

He was ice cold. Professional. Distant.

And somehow... that was worse. It made me feel crazy. Did I dream it?

The whole morning he ignored me. Calls, meetings, files. I was just his robot.

Until 4:55pm.

Everyone else had left. It was just us again. My stomach was in knots.

He finally looked at me.

"Ryan, come here."

I walked to his desk, my legs shaking.

He slid a small black box across the table towards me. The same velvet box from the drawer.

"Open it."

My hands were sweating. I opened it slowly.

Inside was that silver collar. The one from the picture. The empty one.

"I have a private dinner tonight. 8pm. I need you to... deliver this to the woman who will be joining me," he said, his eyes locked on mine. "She's waiting in the room you found."

He leaned back in his chair, his grey eyes piercing me.

"And Ryan... put it on her for me. I want to see if you have... gentle hands."

My heart stopped.

He was testing me. He wanted to see if I would say yes. If I would walk back into that room. If I was as innocent as I pretended to be.

What if the woman wasn't there? What if this was a trap and he was the one waiting?

I held the box, my fingers trembling.

Would I do it?