You make me wet

Rosa’s POV

I pushed the office door open, and the heavy stench of alcohol told me I had bumped into a man probably shattered as I was.

He raised his head, those blue eyes watching me as I wobbled forward.

“What are you doing here, drunk?” He asked, when I stopped.

I scoffed and spread a tired smile on my face. “I hear misery loves company.”

I sat uninvited and grabbed a free bottle of wine. He didn't stop me. Only watched.

I didn’t care if he pitied me. I had one mission tonight. And I needed another bottle of wine for audacity. My teeth pulled off the cork ferally and I downed the liquid, ignoring the burning in my throat.

“Why are you here, Ms. Castillo.”

It was Mrs. Baker, soon to be Ms,. Castillo. But it didn’t matter right now. I had no desire to tell my boss that my husband was Charles Baker, top rival to the company and I had been planted to sabotage every step made by his father to try to bring down Baker Tech.

I tilted the bottle to the side, my head moving in the same direction.

“I would love to ask you that too…but I’m more of an act, not speak, woman.”

“Act, not speak.” His brows furrowed, bringing out the features of his face even more charmingly.

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got a good face?” I asked, tipping on the edge of drunkenness. “Sharp jaws and those good, blue eyes…but you’re pretty much a big fool with a good face.”

I dropped the bottle and stood up.

“What did you hear about me?”

I bit my lips as he watched me quietly.

His gaze was a slow burn, dark and unyielding, stripping me bare before I even took off the goddamned suit I wore. All my curves were buried under those stupid clothes I wore for years. Now, I wanted them out and worshipped. He was watching me as I put on my show, wobbling under the effect of the drink.

“Why have you come to tempt me, Ms. Castillo?”

“Rosa,” I hissed, my hands slowly unbuttoning my shirt. “Just Rosa.”

And I was sick of being starved at home and being faithful to Charles. Not when I was going to divorce him.

I could hear his rugged breathing even from where I stood and I saw how his eyes darkened the moment I threw the shirt off, leaving nothing but my bra clinging to my skin. I kicked the shoes off my feet, its sharp clack as it landed on the floor a reminder of my intention, and walked towards him. He was trailing me like a predator watching its prey and it made me want him more.

“You make me wet,” I said, bold, unapologetic, with my lips burning with a deadly desire. “I fuckinng sit behind my desk all day, starved sexually, and all I get is moans coming from your office, making me beg my husband to touch me like he once did, and all I get is a freaking show that leaves me mad!”

I had spilled everything before I could even think about it. He watched me for a while and I lowered my head. My eyes caught my feet and I thought about the last time I went for a pedicure.

It was probably a year ago

He was up before I knew it, his hand behind my back, pulling me towards him. I took in the smell of his alcohol stained breath and cologne.

“I make you wet?” He growled, the question like a challenge, his lips grazing the soft of my neck. Suddenly, the pedicure did’t matter and I forgot how much I disliked him

I moaned my reply. I just wanted him to touch me all over and make me feel like the woman I was. The woman Charly didn’t see anymore.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

I stared at his lips. “You.”

“I won't stop if I start. I don't.”

I was ready to be taken. I ran my fingers through his hair. They felt as smooth as silk. But I needed something rough, something hard. His shaft, driving me to the edge of insanity.

He pushed me to the desk and I sat on it, spreading my legs wide enough for him to stand in between. I could already feel the warmth between my thighs and the knot in my stomach. His hand moved to the back of my neck and he pulled me to himself. His kiss wasn’t gentle. It was just like I wanted.

Rough and possessive, all teeth and tongue.

I held onto his shirt, moaning in his mouth, as I surrendered to him. His hands were everywhere. Rough, fingers that traced the curve of my spine and then, my bra was gone in one rip with my engorged nipples shivering under the cool of the room, begging for his touch.

Everything about him was perfect. His finger strokes, the way his tongue curled against me, and the way it teased my nipples.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice a broken plea. I had missed feeling this way.

“I don’t.”

His hand slid between my warm thighs, rubbing linen against my clit. His touch was deliberate, torturous, linen dragging against my soaked panties, rubbing slow circles. The sensation was electric, a jolt that shot straight to my core, making me clench with need. I arched into him and traced his waist for his thick, pulsing bulge. It was right there, waiting for me. Digging my hand into his trousers, I claimed it. He took his hands off me for a while only to unbelt and pull his trousers off.

I marvelled at the feel of his dick from his boxers and wanted nothing but its feel inside me. He pulled me closer and pushed my skirt away. My pants came off easily.

I wanted to stop but the memory of Charly in bed with a stranger fueled me.

“I want you to fuck me until I forget everything else.”

He took a hard dive in. A guttural moan escaped from my throat as he drove me to the edge of pain and pleasure. I held him tightly, enjoying every bit of his thrust into me. My nails dug into his shirt, threatening to tear it. He didn’t stop. I could feel his tip hitting the wall of my cervix. He was hitting the right places and each grunt made me desire more. The desk creaked beneath us, the room filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, nothing else.

He was moaning with pleasure and enjoying every bit of me. I felt special again. Like the Rosa Castillo before Charly gave me his name and broke my heart.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hand sliding between us to circle my clit again. The dual assault pushed me closer to the edge. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, my body a live wire of sensation. The memory of Charly’s betrayal fueled my abandon, but it was Alex that consumed me.

I didn’t think of the repercussions. Not yet. Not when his finger was stroking my clit and the other held my two hands away. I groaned, dug my lips into his, and cummed on the table, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave, my walls clenching around him as my body shaking underneath him. He didn’t stop, his thrusts relentless, until I was trembling, boneless beneath him. Only then did he pull out, his own release spilling hot across my thighs, marking me in a way that felt possessive.

He pulled away from me, a frown on his face, like he hadn’t just driven into me like a cowboy. His hand grabbed my wrist and he pulled me forward.

“This never happened…Rosa,” he said, his voice low and edged with warning.

I should have been scared by his warning and the way his eyes bore into mine. But it only excited me.

“You don’t frighten me, Alex,” I said.

He stared at my naked form and moved away. My head was still clouded with the alcohol and my steps were still wobbly. I dropped my feet to the floor and started towards the door.

Now, I was ready to divorce Charles fucking Baker.

***

Laughter.

A loud, sinister laughter was what I heard when I told him I was going to divorce him. I stared at the dark, empty street, biting my lips.

“There is no divorce, Rosa,” he said. “You know why? There was never any marriage.”

What the hell was he talking about? We were wed on an island in Mexico. There was a priest and a few of his friends.

“The wedding in Mexico was a sham. Don’t you get it? I needed you to keep an eye on things over there at Kane. But all you wanted was a stupid ring.”

The words hit me like harsh reality. All this time, I had been fooling myself. There was no adultery. No divorce. No alimony.

“Come back home, Rosa. You might like a threesome with Taylor. She’s sweet.”

Rage built within me. I screamed into the phone. All this time, I had been a fool. I had been blinded by love to even realise that I had been played. He didn’t need me anymore. I was the fucking fool over and over again.

My lips trembled as I tried to voice out the words. I wanted to tell him that I would fight him with every breath I had and that I had the video of him making out with that bitch. I wanted to tell him how much I hated him now and how I had a good time fucking my boss.

But all I did was scream.

I hate you, Charly Baker!