A Woman I Told Was A Mistake

“Telling her it was a mistake is the right thing to do, I can’t afford for anything more to happen between us.” I said in my head standing up to stare at my window, that seems to be my safe space. Helps me with thinking straight.

I thought it was going to be like every other one night stand but it wasn’t.

It was way more than that.

Every thrust I made connected me with her.

Her every moan are stucked deep in my head and they keep playing like a sweet sensual record label. And I loved it. I allowed myself to feel that even if it’s just for a moment. Just for a night. That was all it was meant to be. I never thought of seeing her ever again especially not as my secretary but I guess the universe has a way of messing with me.

Every other woman I’ve slept with, I don’t mind seeing them cause it’s easy to deny them or threaten them off my back. But this woman who just walked out of my office as my secretary I definitely didn’t want to see her again. I wanted to erase everything about her and about the night we spend together from my head.

A knock on the door brought me out of thought. “Come in,” I said sitting down and putting on my poker face.

Emily walked in with my coffee swaying those delicious looking hips of hers. I watched her set the cup down and turned back to walk out. So I spoke,

“Call the caterers, Update the gala menu. Make sure the wine is from Bordeaux private reserve.”

This are things my assistant downstairs could do.

But I needed her near me just for a bit.

Then I heard it, the sass she muttered under her breath.

Something like, “Because God forbid the billionaires drink anything that isn’t older than my apartment lease.”

I nearly choked on my coffee.

My fingers froze. I looked up and there she was, all innocent smile and sugary sass.

“Excuse me?” I said.

She batted her lashes. “I said I’ll call them right away, Mr. Steele.”

I stared at her for moment before letting her go back to work.

After I had my coffee, I got consumed with work and I shoved everything that had to do with Emily buried away. Where it’s should be. Keeping it professional is the right thing to do. I can’t afford anything going on between us, It can never happen. I don’t do feelings. I don’t do love. Someone is only going to get hurt and I can’t risk that happening besides I’m already engaged to someone unwilling. An engagement which will definitely not end in marriage.

It is just a business deal and that’s all it will ever be.

“I don’t plan on settling down. I don’t think I ever will and even if I do settle down it’s will never be with Sabrina Rodriguez.” I thought loudly in my head.

⸻

Few hours later,

“i need a drink,” I said rounding up the files on my table and grabbing my things to leave the office.

Getting out I took a few minutes to stare at Emily before leaving.

“And something to take my mind off the woman upstairs.” I got into my car and drove down to the nearest bar I could find.

–––

Third person pov:

The bar was dim. The kind of lowlight that made sins easier to commit.

Dominic sat with his third glass of scotch, his jaw tight, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to say he didn’t give a damn anymore.

But he did. God, he did.

Because no matter how hard he tried to blur her out with alcohol, Emily’s face kept slicing through the haze. The taste of her lips, the way her moans still echoed in his ears, the way he acts professional and cold in the office now like he hadn’t once been buried so deep inside her that she clawed at his back.

One night. That was all it took to screw up his head.

And now? She was his secretary. Imagine seeing her Every. Fucking. Day. In that tight blouse, with her little smirk she tried to hide behind polite professionalism.

He ran a hand over his face.

“Rough day?”

A woman’s voice broke through the fog. Sultry, bold. She stood by his table, blonde, curvy, with confidence dripping off her like perfume. Tight black dress. Full red lips.

He didn’t even ask her name. Didn’t need to.

Just needed to forget.

“You could say that,” he said, voice low and smooth.

She slid into the seat beside him without permission. Her thigh touched his, and he didn’t move. Instead, he glanced at her, smirking slightly. “Looking for company?”

“Depends,” she said, leaning in, lips brushing his ear. “Can you fuck me hard enough to shut my brain off?”

He clenched his jaw.

Emily.

He pushed the thought away and stood, tossing bills on the table. “Let’s find out.”

⸻

His place. Lights off. Door barely shut before her back hit the wall.

Her lips crushed against his, wild, messy, greedy. But as his hands found her waist, his mind screamed Emily. When the woman moaned, it wasn’t her voice he heard. It was hers.

“Fuck,” he growled against her lips, pressing harder, faster. Maybe if he kissed her hard enough, maybe if he buried himself in someone else, maybe then he’d stop feeling like Emily had ruined him with just one night.

He ripped her dress down, no patience, no care. Just need. Desperate, messy, angry need.

Her bra hit the floor. His hands grabbed full handfuls of her tits, squeezing as she whimpered.

But her whimper? Still not the right pitch. Still not Emily.

He lifted her, carried her to the counter, and shoved her legs apart, dragging her panties down and tossing them.

“You’re not gonna last, are you?” she teased breathlessly.

He didn’t answer. Just pulled his belt open with one hand, the other already teasing between her legs.

She was wet, ready, but the second he thrust into her, it was wrong. It wasn’t the same tightness, the same gasp Emily gave when he first slid in.

Still, he pounded into her. Hard. Fast. Unapologetic.

Gripping her thighs, slamming into her like he was trying to erase everything.

She cried out.

“Ohh fuck, yes!!! keep fucking me hard like that baby”

Her nails clawed at his back. The counter creaked with each brutal thrust.

But in his head, it was Emily’s name he moaned. Not hers.

His head fell back. Eyes closed. His jaw locked tight.

Emily. Bent over his desk. Emily in that red lace bra. Emily whispering his name like it was holy.

He felt the other woman’s legs tighten around him, her voice breaking with pleasure.

“Omg!!! I’m gonna cum”

“I’m gonna cum so fucking good baby”.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming.”

“I’m cumming all over that big dick.” she screamed out shaking.

But he didn’t feel satisfied. Just… hollow.

When he finished, it wasn’t her moan that undid him.

It was the phantom sound of Emily’s breathy voice, whispering “Don’t stop.” Dominic decided to go on another round to suppress Emily’s voice in his head.

“Fuck,” he breathed, dragging his tongue down her neck, nipping at her collarbone before sucking one breast into his mouth, rough and wet, pulling a gasp from her throat.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled. “Take me to the bed,” she panted.

But Dominic didn’t move.

“No,” he growled, sliding a hand between her thighs. “I’m going to fuck you right here.”

He dropped to his knees, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, and dragged her panties aside. Her pussy was soaked, glossy, glistening, pulsing, and he didn’t hesitate.

He dove in.

His tongue was sinful, slow, then fast, teasing then punishing. She let out a choked cry, hands slamming into the door behind her as he devoured her, lips locking on her clit, sucking hard enough to make her knees shake.

She was already close, hips grinding against his face like she couldn’t help herself.

“Don’t stop, fuck, right there!”

Dominic gripped her thighs tighter, burying his tongue inside her, tasting her until her whole body convulsed with a scream that could’ve woken the neighbors.

He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and met her dazed eyes. “That’s one.”

She didn’t have time to catch her breath.

He flipped her around, pressed her face-first against the door, and yanked his jeans down just enough to free himself. Her ass looked too good not to slap, so he did. Once. Twice. Then again.

She whimpered, arching her back and spreading her legs wider.

“Beg for it,” he rasped into her ear, rubbing the thick head of his cock between her folds.

“Please,” she breathed. “I need it. I need you to fuck me.”

And just like that, he thrust in.

Deep.

Hard.

All the way.

Her scream was muffled against the wood as he bottomed out inside her, stretching her, filling her to the hilt. He gave her no mercy. He gripped her hips and started pounding her, fast and ruthless, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the apartment like a goddamn soundtrack.

Every thrust shoved her into the door.

Every cry she made only turned him on more.

Her pussy was tight, velvet-wet and gripping him like it didn’t want to let go. He reached around, pinched her clit, and she came again, legs trembling, juices dripping down her thighs, soaking his cock.

He didn’t stop.

He carried her to the kitchen counter, bent her over, and kept going.

“Fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, pulling out just enough to slam back in, watching his shaft disappear inside her slick heat over and over.

She reached back to claw at him, nails raking down his abs. “Harder, fuck me harder, don’t hold back.”

He didn’t. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back, and growled in her ear, “You want it rough, you got it.”

He fucked her harder.

The counter shook. Her moans turned into screams. She came again, tighter, wetter, messier, her whole body convulsing as he pinned her down and wrecked her.

He flipped her onto her back, threw her legs over his shoulders, and drove in deep. He watched her face twist with every stroke, eyes rolling, lips parted, mascara smudged.

She looked ruined.

Used.

Exactly what he needed.

“I’m gonna come,” he grunted.

“Inside, do it, please, come inside me,” she moaned, dragging her nails down his back.

His thrusts grew sloppy, harder, more erratic, and with one last groan, he exploded, cock pulsing, body trembling, releasing everything in a single, savage thrust that left them both gasping.

They collapsed.

Breathing heavy. Skin slick. Muscles twitching.

Dominic rolled off her and stared at the ceiling.

She cuddled into him, smiling like she just conquered a mountain.

But he didn’t smile.

Because in the haze of orgasm and sweat,

He was still thinking about Emily.

The way she moaned his name.

The way her body fit against his perfectly.

The way this never made him feel the way she did.

He closed his eyes and exhaled through clenched teeth.

“Fuck, Emily…”

⸻

He pulled out and stepped back, running a hand through his hair, his body spent but his chest, his head, still full of her.

The woman reached for him, but he was already moving.

“I’ll call you a car,” he muttered.

“You’re not staying?” she asked, confused.

Dominic didn’t answer.

He walked into his bathroom, turned on the cold water, and stared at his reflection.

One night. That’s all it took to ruin him.

And still… she was everywhere.