Breathless and burning.

NATASHA.

    I stood, frozen in place, my hands half forgotten on the cock I was in the process of swallowing whole. My eyes strayed to Dougal and saw him mirroring my shock.

    The knock came again. This time, it was louder and clearer. "Mr. Wilde?" The older woman's voice rang from the other end of the door.

    The spell got broken and I scrambled up.

    "Shit!" Dougal cursed under his breath. His hand raked through his hair, tousling it every which way but he seemed to care less. "What again, Miss Angela?" He asked, his voice low and raw, not hiding the unmistakable pleasure coursing through him.

    "I said Mr. Philips is here, requesting an audience." The woman answered.

    The time froze on my brain melted. I scrambled up as my hand instantly plopped my left bare breast back into its temporary dungeon. I straightened up and winced at the wrinkles that decorated the edges of my once perfectly ironed dress. I smoothened the fabric with my bare hands but nothing barely changed. I gave up on the mission and yanked my hair back into a ponytail, securing it firmly with a rubber band.

    I stole a glance at Dougal Wilde and saw him buckling his belt. He stretched out his laps, his lower body moving to a down as his hands tried to adjust the bulge straining against his trousers, begging for release. A slight moan escaped my throat as I saw the wetness surrounding his cock, knowing it was all the juice from my pussy.

    I quietly sat on the chair as my hands ruminated for things. It didn't take long for me to scope out the file that brought me to this office in the first place. I opened to a page just as another knock sounded on the door.

    "Come in!" Dougal commanded. The tension in his voice was gone, swiftly replaced by a hard tone - one that signaled his boss nature. He sat down grimly, hefting the weight of his elbows on the table, his eyes falling on the file like it had all his attention.

    I mirrored his stoic expression as the door opened rapidly. Taking a deep breath, I flashed a concerned look across the door as my father walked in, followed by the P.A. She looked at me, the unspoken question dancing in her eyes but I paid her no heed.

    "Thank you, Angela. You can leave us now." Her boss commanded.

    I recalled how he had commanded me to get on my knees and suck his cock and a slight grin found its way to the corner of my lips. The rapid closing of the door brought me back to the present, only to find my father staring intently at me. I cleared my throat and pushed the file I planted in the desk earlier to Mr. Wilde.

    "So, are you ready to conclude on the business proposal?" I inured my voice, trying to portray the image of a future CEO.

    Dougal risked a brief glance at the file and then promptly ignored me. He turned to my father and extended his hand at the vacant chair beside me, indicating for the man to take his seat. My father walked over to the spot and cleared his throat.

    "We were just concluding on the proposal," I found myself explaining to the man even though no one questioned me. I turned to Dougal. "Isn't that right, Mr. Wilde?" I asked.

    

Still, he was cold.

    What the actual fuck?

    He shifted his weight forward and grabbed the file. After skimming through it for a few seconds, he lifted his gaze to look at my father.

    "I wouldn't have accepted this proposal, except that it feels like your company is trying to cut cost of production." He pitched. "And if there is one thing your company and my company is known for, it is excellence." He shrugged before continuing. "So, I don't get why you want us to use aluminium instead of glasses in the lobby."

    He grabbed the file and shifted it to his side, fully looking at it this time. "The chairs are also said here to be wooden." He pointed to a spot on the file. "Whatever happens to the Italian leather or even expensive words like teak or mahogany, with velvet or chenille fabrics for the premium finishing?”

Shame tore through me at the implication of his words. I inched closer to see the spot he was talking about. My face grazed against his hand and a shiver raked through me as desire reared back its ugly head.

Before I could say anything in my defense, my father spoke up. 

"Natasha wrote it." He said with a chuckle. "I knew something would be wrong with it and that is why I came." He sighed deeply. "You know I am still trying to rope her into the business."

"I see." He said, nodding like that was the perfect explanation.

Anger quickly vapourised through desire I felt. I turned a blank look at Dougal who still made it his duty to not look at me.

"See what?!" I stormed at him, suprising both men with my outburst. I ignored him completely and turned to the man who called himself my father. "And if you knew you couldn't trust me with this project, you shouldn't have bothered to hand it over to me!" I stood up.

"Nat--" Dougal tried to say something, but I cut him off abruptly.

"—And you, Mr. Wilde, you could have pointed out all these mistakes to me and have me adjust the proposal instead of making me look like a fool in the presence of my father!"

I picked up my bag and strode out of the office, banging the door with all my power. Despite the anger boiling in me, my body still twitched at the almost sexcapade we would have had if my father hadn't interrupted. Walking away was the only way to hide that I was so angry, that I wanted an angry sex with Dougal. I wanted him to pin me against the wall, my chest and face in the wall while he drove into me with reckless abandon, making my lung burn from the scream in pleasure. 

"Hey, you!" Someone yelled, just as fingers snapped in my face.

I stopped abruptly and looked up. Angela stood tall and prim, her fingers almost in my face.

"What?" My voice came out a lot harsher than I intended to. I opened my mouth to apologize but her next words died the words in my throat.

"Mr. Dougal Wilde is not for kids like you." She said matter-of-factly, her brown eyes sparkling with the intensity of her words. "All he would do is chew you up and spit you out when he is tired."

I turned to look around, certain that she must be talking to someone else. When she snapped her fingers in my face again, I pointed to my chest.

"You're talking to me?" I asked. My eyes were clouded with shock.

"Stay away from him." She warned.