Dripping Desires

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft click, sealing her into a polished metal box with the man she was supposed to hate.Alistair Stone. Her fiancé. The deal-sealer. The man rumored to be so cold, so utterly uninterested in women, that she’d spent the last three months convinced he was either gay or a fucking robot. She’d dumped her ex for this. For a corporate merger dressed in a suit.He stood facing the doors, his back to her. He wasn’t wearing the somber black she’d expected. His suit was a brilliant, stark white, the fabric so crisp it seemed to glow under the harsh elevator lights. It made the broad lines of his shoulders look even more imposing.She’d only seen photos. Stiff, boardroom portraits. They hadn’t done him justice. Not even close.The elevator began its ascent to the penthouse chapel. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage of silk and lace. Anger, hot and sour, bubbled in her throat. She wanted to scream. To claw the pearl buttons o

Anna pushed open the professor’s office door, clutching the report she’d spent all night finishing.“Sir? I just needed to—”She stopped.Her professor was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, hands on his… completely unaware she had entered. Anna froze in the doorway, heat rushing to her face. “I—I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize…”His eyes snapped open.Instead of panic, a slow, knowing smile crossed his face.“Close the door, Anna,” he muttered. —I was going to write the next line but…The tip of my pencil snapped with a sharp crack, leaving a jagged nonsensical line on the paper of my notebook.I ignored it, grabbing a spare pen from my backpack and continuing without a pause. The lecture hall was a blur of droning noise, and scratching notebooks, the hum of the air conditioning blending with my own racing thoughts.Professor Reed was at the front, pointing at projected slide talking about human anatomy, but I wasn’t listening to anything he said. Everyone on campus knew

A dizzying, electric pleasure tore me from the blackness. A hot, wet pressure on my right nipple, sucking deep. A movement between my legs, a tongue—a fucking tongue!—dipping and swirling against a place that had never been touched. “Wha—What are you doing?” I stuttered, but it came out as a moan… and something else entirely.A coil of heat tightened low in my belly, my core throbbed. My back arched off the bed, a bed I didn’t recognize yet, my hips lifting off the sheet, chasing the friction, chasing the impossible pleasure. “Oh god—”The man between my legs growled, the vibration against my clit sending a shockwave up my spine. His hands clamped on my thighs, spreading me wider, and his tongue plunged deep, fucking me with it. The one on my breast released my nipple with a wet pop and bit down gently on the swell, his stubble scraping my sensitive skin. The dual assault was too much. My mind spun. “Is that… is that what I think it is?” I gasped.“Cum, sweetheart,” someone hiss

Mark looked at me, a tight frown on his face. “You’re acting suspicious.”“Ohh, honey… let me help you,” I said quickly, bending to hand him the fork.“Are you hiding anything from me?” he asked.“I’m not hiding anything,” I stuttered. “You’re not failing me either… I just want… more.”Leo’s warm palms slid over my thighs, pushing them apart. I resisted for a fraction of a second, tightening my legs together despite my soaking… a futile attempt to maintain decency, but his strength was undeniable. I let in a sharp intake of breath.“What is distracting you, Jenna?”“Nothing…nothing, Mark,” I hissed, biting my lips.Leo’s fingers found the edge of my panties. He didn’t tease. He hooked them and pulled, sliding the fabric down my legs until it was free…discarded somewhere in the dark under the table.The cool air hit my bare, exposed pussy.I could feel the swollen state of it—the outer lips plump and parted, the inner lips already slick and soaking. I had never been more turned on. I c

Silence.Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind that lived in churches and prayers.This silence pressed in on me, thick, suffocating.I could literally hear my own heartbeat, loud in my ears. Feel it between my ribs. Between my thighs.I shouldn’t have said it. Would he report this to my Mom? Would he hate me?“I shouldn’t have—““Maria.”His voice was different now.Lower. Careful.Like he was choosing each word before letting it escape.I squeezed my eyes shut behind the screen. “Forgive me, Father—”A sharp knock cut through the moment, the door opening with a slow movement.I froze.“Father? Is everything alright?” my mother’s voice drifted faintly from outside.I clasped my sweaty hands together.“I’m handling it, Sister Agatha,” he replied calmly.Too calmly.Footsteps lingered… then faded.The silence returned, but it wasn’t the same anymore.“Look at me,” he said quietly.My fingers tightened around the rosary.“I… I can’t.”Another pause.Then…“That wasn’t a request, Maria.”