The CEO’s Secret Toy: 2

Balcony Across the Street💧💦😜

“We’re not waiting until Monday,” Dominic said. “We’re finding this bastard tonight.”

I stared at the photo on my phone. Me bent over the couch. His hands on my hips. Everything sharp and clear. “How? We don’t even know which balcony.”

Dominic walked to the wall of glass and scanned the building across the street. “The top three floors have an angle. Lights are off in most of them. One unit still has a dim lamp. Third floor down from the top, second window from the left.”

I moved beside him. The lamp was small, almost hidden behind a curtain. “Could be nothing.”

“Could be everything.” He turned to me. “Get dressed. Something dark. We’re going over there.”

I pulled on black leggings and a long sweater, skipping underwear because there wasn’t time and because his cum was still sliding down my thighs. Dominic stayed in the uniform shirt and pants. We took the private elevator down to the garage. His personal car—an old black Mustang that didn’t belong to the company fleet. was parked in the far corner.

He drove without speaking. The city lights slid past. My pulse wouldn’t slow down.

We parked two blocks away and walked. The building across from mine had a side entrance with a broken lock. Dominic pushed it open like he’d done it before. We took the stairs to avoid cameras.

On the landing he stopped me. “Stay behind me. If anyone asks, you’re my boss checking a noise complaint.”

I nodded.

The apartment with the lamp was 14C. Dominic knocked once, hard.

No answer.

He knocked again. Still nothing.

He tried the handle. Locked. Then he pulled a thin metal tool from his pocket, worked the lock for ten seconds, and the door clicked open.

We stepped inside.

The place was mostly empty. Bare walls. One folding chair by the window. A small table with a laptop and a long-lens camera pointed straight at my penthouse. The lamp was still on, low.

Dominic closed the door quietly. “Jackpot.”

I walked to the camera. The lens was still warm. On the laptop screen, a live feed of my living room played in real time, empty now, but the angle was perfect. Another window showed stored files. Dozens of them. Dates going back three weeks.

“He’s been watching every time,” I whispered.

Dominic scrolled through the file names. “And uploading copies somewhere. Cloud storage. Password protected.”

A soft sound came from the hallway bathroom.

We both froze.

Dominic moved first. He pushed the bathroom door open.

A young man in a black hoodie sat on the closed toilet lid, phone in hand, earbuds in. He looked up, eyes wide.

Dominic hauled him out by the front of the hoodie and slammed him against the wall. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I… I’m just the tech guy…” The kid couldn’t be more than twenty-two. Skinny. Scared. “I set up the feed. I don’t even watch the videos, I swear…”

“Who hired you?”

“Cash only. No names, it's an old guy in a suit. He pays me every Friday to keep the equipment running and send the files to a private server.”

Dominic tightened his grip. “Server address. Now.”

The kid rattled off a string of numbers and letters. Dominic made him repeat it while I typed it into my phone.

“Anyone else in this building?” Dominic asked.

“No. Just me. I sleep on the floor sometimes when the guy wants all-night coverage.”

Dominic looked at me. I nodded once.

He shoved the kid toward the door. “Get out. If I see you near this building again, or if one more file gets uploaded, I’ll find you. Understand?”

The kid nodded hard and ran.

We were alone with the camera and the laptop.

Dominic turned to me. “We wipe everything. Then we find the suit who paid him.”

I stared at the live feed of my own penthouse. “He could have backups.”

“Then we make sure he never uses them.” Dominic stepped closer. His hand slid under my sweater, palm flat on my bare stomach. “But first we finish what we started. Right here. In the same room he used to watch us.”

Heat flared low in my belly despite the fear. “Dominic…”

“Take the leggings off.”

I pushed them down and kicked them aside. He lifted me onto the small table beside the laptop, shoved my thighs open, and dropped to his knees. His mouth covered my pussy in one hungry motion. Tongue flat, then pointed, fucking into me while his hands held me spread.

I gripped the edge of the table, moaning. The laptop screen still showed my empty penthouse. The camera was still pointed at the glass.

Dominic stood, freed his cock, and thrust into me hard. The table rocked. Files and papers slid to the floor.

“Look at the screen,” he ordered. “That’s the view he had while you begged for this cock. Now you’re taking it in his little spy nest.”

I looked. The empty couch. The city lights. Then my eyes locked on Dominic’s face as he fucked me deeper.

“Harder,” I gasped.

He gave it to me. One hand around my throat, not tight, just enough to make my pulse race. The other rubbed my clit. I came with a broken cry, clenching around him. He followed seconds later, flooding me again.

We stayed locked together, breathing hard.

Then the laptop chimed.

A new message window popped open on the screen.

Unknown: Cute. You found the camera. The kid was disposable. The backups aren’t. Monday still stands. Balcony door unlocked. Or the board, the shareholders, and your husband’s private email all get the full collection. Including the ones where you cry when you come.

Dominic pulled out of me slowly. Cum dripped onto the table.

I stared at the message.

Another line appeared.

Unknown: And tell the driver’s son if he touches another piece of my equipment, I release the files early. See you Monday, Ice Queen.

Dominic’s jaw flexed. He closed the laptop hard enough to crack the plastic.

“We’re not waiting for Monday,” he said again, voice low and final. “We’re ending this before then.”

I slid off the table on unsteady legs, leggings still around one ankle, his cum running down my thighs.

Outside the window, my own penthouse glowed across the street, curtains still wide open.

And somewhere in the city, the man in the suit already knew we had been here.