Chapter 4; Dirty Temptation 1.4

The executive floor was dead quiet at 8:47 p.m.—everyone else long gone, lights dimmed to that soft after-hours glow that made the glass walls feel like mirrors. Mara had texted him one line thirty minutes earlier:

My office. Now.

Jax didn’t knock. He pushed the door open, locked it behind him with a soft click, and stood there in the doorway—suit jacket already off, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black tie dangling loose around his neck like a promise.

Mara was behind her desk, still in her power suit from the afternoon pitch—charcoal blazer open, white silk blouse unbuttoned just enough to show the black lace bra underneath. She didn’t look up from her laptop at first. Just kept typing, slow and deliberate, letting him watch her.

“You’re late,” she said finally, voice cool.

“Traffic.” He stepped closer. “You gonna punish me for it?”

Her eyes flicked up—sharp, dark, hungry. “I already am.”

She stood. Slow. Walked around the desk until she was right in front of him. Close enough that he could smell her perfume—something expensive and spicy—and see the way her nipples pressed against the silk.

Jax reached for her waist. She caught his wrist mid-air.

“Not yet.”

She took the tie from around his neck, looped it around his eyes, pulled it tight. Blindfold. Not gentle.

“On your knees,” she said.

He dropped without hesitation—knees hitting the carpet, hands braced on his thighs. Mara stepped back, heels clicking, then perched on the edge of her desk. She hiked her skirt up to her hips, spread her thighs wide. No panties. Just bare, glistening pussy waiting for him.

“Eat me,” she ordered. “Like you’re starving.”

Jax leaned in blind, hands finding her thighs, spreading them wider. His tongue dragged up her slit in one long, slow stroke—tasting how wet she already was, how swollen. Mara’s head fell back, a low moan escaping. He didn’t tease. Just buried his face between her legs—tongue flicking her clit fast, then sucking it into his mouth, hard.

“Fuck—yes—” Her fingers twisted in his hair, yanking him closer. “Deeper. Tongue inside me.”

He pushed his tongue into her entrance, fucking her with it—wet, messy sounds filling the quiet office. Then back to her clit, circling, sucking, nipping just enough to make her hips buck. She was dripping down his chin, coating his lips. He groaned against her like he couldn’t get enough.

Mara’s thighs started trembling. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

He added two fingers—thick, curling inside her, stroking that spot while his mouth worked her clit relentlessly. She came fast—hard—back arching off the desk, a choked cry ripping out of her as her pussy clenched and pulsed around his fingers, soaking his hand.

He didn’t stop until she shoved his head away, panting.

“Up,” she gasped.

Jax stood, still blindfolded. Mara yanked the tie off, tossed it aside. Her eyes were wild now—pupils blown, cheeks flushed.

She spun him, shoved him face-first against the glass wall that overlooked the city skyline. His palms slapped the cool surface. She pressed against his back, reached around, ripped his belt open, yanked his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free—thick, rock-hard, leaking.

“You’re gonna fuck me against this window,” she whispered in his ear. “Hard. Rough. Make the whole city hear if they look up.”

Jax growled low. “You want them to see you getting railed by your driver?”

“Yes.” She guided his cock to her entrance, rubbed the head through her slick folds. “Now.”

He thrust in—brutal, one deep stroke that buried him to the hilt. Mara cried out, palms slapping the glass beside his. The city lights blurred below them—thirty floors up, but still visible if anyone bothered to look.

Jax didn’t hold back.

He fucked her like he hated her—like he needed to wreck her. Hips snapping hard, cock slamming into her over and over, balls slapping her clit with every thrust. The desk rattled behind them from the force. Mara pushed back to meet him, ass grinding against his hips, taking every inch.

“Harder,” she demanded. “Fuck me like you own me.”

He grabbed her hair—fist at the roots—yanked her head back so her neck arched. His other hand slid around to her throat—not choking, just holding. Possessive.

“You’re mine,” he rasped against her ear. “This pussy. This body. All fucking mine.”

She moaned—loud, shameless. “Then prove it. Come inside me. Mark me.”

He pounded faster—deeper—angle hitting her G-spot dead-on every time. Mara’s legs shook, nails scraping the glass. She reached down, rubbed her clit in frantic circles while he railed her.

“I’m gonna—” she gasped. “Jax—fuck—I’m coming—”

She shattered—walls clamping down like a vice, pulsing around his cock, soaking him. Jax kept thrusting through it—rough, relentless—drawing out every tremor until she was whimpering.

Then he lost it.

He buried deep, cock throbbing, and came hard—hot spurts flooding her, spilling out around him, dripping down her thighs. He groaned her name like a prayer, hips jerking through the aftershocks.

They stayed like that—pressed against the glass, breathing ragged, hearts slamming.

After a minute Mara laughed—soft, wrecked. “We’re definitely on camera.”

Jax kissed the back of her neck. “Let them watch.”

She turned in his arms, kissed him slow—deep, filthy, tasting herself on his tongue.

“Next time,” she murmured, “your place. I want to see how loud I can make you scream.”

He grinned against her mouth. “Challenge accepted.”

The city kept glittering below them.

Neither of them moved to clean up.

Not yet.