My Boss Will Stop At Nothing To Have Me

Lillian’s POV

The moment I stepped into the apartment, something felt off.  

It wasn’t the scattered shoes by the door or the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with vanilla perfume. It was the energy, thick, tense, almost like the walls were holding their breath.  

I dropped my purse on the console table and took a cautious step forward. The TV was off. The kitchen light was dim. And then… I heard it.  

A soft giggle.  

A moan.  

My stomach twisted as my pulse quickened.  

I knew that laugh.  

I knew that voice.  

Without thinking, I pushed the bedroom door open.  

And there they were.  

Daniel. The man I had spent years loving, trusting, building a life with.  

And Jasmine. My best friend.  

Their bodies were tangled in my sheets, my bed. Our bed.  

Jasmine let out a sharp gasp, yanking the covers up to her chest, as if modesty suddenly mattered. “Lillian…”  

Daniel cursed under his breath, scrambling upright, his face drained of color.  

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My throat burned, my vision blurred. A part of me wanted to scream, to throw something, to make them feel the way I felt, betrayed, broken, humiliated.  

But instead, I laughed. A dry, hollow sound that didn’t belong to me.  

Daniel tried to step toward me. “Babe, I…”

“Don’t.” My voice was sharp enough to slice through steel.  

Jasmine opened her mouth, probably to spill some pathetic excuse, but I cut her off with a look that made her shrink back.  

I turned back to Daniel, my hands curling into fists. “Get your things and get the hell out of my house.”  

“Lillian, please.. ”  

“Now.”  

He hesitated. For a moment, I saw the wheels turning in his head, probably calculating whether he could manipulate me into forgiving him. Not this time.  

I turned on my heels and walked out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.  

The club was loud, the bass thrumming through my veins as I drowned my anger in shots of tequila. The betrayal, the pain, the years wasted on a man who didn’t deserve me, it all simmered under my skin, waiting to explode.  

I needed an escape.  

And that’s when I saw him.  

Dark hair, sharp jawline, piercing eyes that locked onto mine like he could see every thought running through my head.  

He smirked as if he knew exactly what I was looking for.  

I leaned in. “Buy me a drink?”  

He didn’t hesitate. “Only if you let me take you home after.”  

I smirked. “Whiskey sour.”  

His lips quirked up at the corner. “Classy.”  

Our drinks arrived, and I took a slow sip, my eyes not leaving his.  

“Rough night?” he asked.  

I let out a breathy laugh. “Something like that.”  

He didn’t pry. Just lifted his glass and clinked it against mine. “To forgetting for a few hours, then.”  

I held his gaze, feeling something stir inside me, a reckless need.  

“To forgetting,” I murmured, taking another sip.  

He let the silence settle between us again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged.

After a moment, he leaned in just enough for me to catch the warm scent of cologne and something distinctly masculine.

“I have a place not far from here,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, unrushed. “If you want to get out of here.”  

My pulse skipped.  

He didn’t assume. Didn’t grab my wrist or act like I owed him anything.  

He gave me a choice.

I searched his face, strong jaw, full lips, golden eyes that held not only curiosity, but a bit of arrogance. He was sure of himself.

And for the first time that night, I wanted something.

I set my glass down. “Let’s go.”  

The ride to his place was quiet, but not awkward. He helped me with my coat, his fingers brushing my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine.  

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking to the bar in the corner. “Another drink?”  

I shook my head. “I think I’ve had enough.”  

He nodded, pouring himself a small glass of bourbon before turning to me. “You can say no at any time.”  

I blinked.  

His expression remained calm, but there was an edge of intensity in his voice. “You don’t owe me anything because you came here. If you want to just sit and talk, we can. If you want to leave, I’ll call you a car.”  

My breath hitched.  

Despite the arrogance I sensed, he was giving me control.

I swallowed, then stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt. “I don’t want to leave.”  

His golden eyes darkened, his fingers grazing her hip, slow, deliberate. “Then tell me what you want.”  

My pulse pounded.  

I wasn’t used to being asked.  

I wasn’t used to choosing.

So, I met his gaze, steady and certain.  

“I want you to kiss me.”  

He exhaled, then leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was demanding.

His hands never wandered without permission.  

His lips coaxed.  

And when his fingers trailed down my back, gripping my waist, he whispered, “Still okay?”  

I let out a shaky breath. “Yes.”  

His grip tightened, and when he deepened the kiss, I melted into him.  

Tonight,  I won’t think about Daniel.  

Tonight, I won’t feel broken.  

Tonight, I choose to forget.

I let myself sink into his kiss, into the warmth of his hands as they settled on my waist, strong like he was holding something fragile.  

Maybe I was.  

Maybe I was more broken than I wanted to admit.  

But right now, I didn’t feel broken.  

Right now, I felt wanted.

His lips traced along my jaw, down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. A shiver ran through me, and I arched into him, my fingers twisting into his shirt.  

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, his voice deep and steady, vibrating against my throat.  

I didn’t want him to stop.  

I wanted more.  

“Don’t stop,” I whispered.  

A soft groan rumbled from his chest as he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me toward the bedroom.  

He laid me down gently, his golden eyes searching mine as he hovered above me.  

“Still okay?”  

The way he kept asking, the way he made sure I was with him every step of the way, it sent a different kind of heat through me, something deeper than just physical need.

I nodded, my hands reaching for him, pulling him closer. “I’m more than okay.”  

That was all he needed.  

His mouth claimed mine again, slow, like he wanted to memorize every inch of me. His hands roamed my body with the same care, tracing my curves, mapping the places that made me shiver.  

When he pulled my dress over my head, he took a moment to look at me, his gaze dark with appreciation.  

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, running a thumb along my cheek.  

I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding. No one had ever looked at me like that before, not like I was just something to conquer, but something to savor.

He kissed his way down my body, slow and teasing, taking his time as if he wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere, just lost in his little way of exploring me.  

My breath hitched as his lips brushed my stomach, his hands parting my thighs. His touch was firm as if he knew this wasn’t just about pleasure, it was about letting go, about reclaiming something I thought I had lost.

The moment his mouth found me, my back arched, a gasp slipping from my lips.  

He didn’t rush. He took his time, teasing, building the pleasure until I was trembling beneath him, my fingers gripping the sheets, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Let go,” he murmured, his voice like velvet against my skin.  

And I did.  

Pleasure crashed over me, raw and overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel broken. I felt whole. I felt alive.

Before I could catch my breath, he was back above me, his lips claiming mine again, swallowing my moans as he positioned himself between my thighs.  

His forehead rested against mine, his breath heavy, his eyes locked on me as he slowly pushed inside.

A deep, satisfied groan escaped him as he filled me, stretching me in the most delicious way.  

I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he stilled, letting me adjust.

“You feel incredible,” he murmured against my lips. “I could stay like this forever.”  

My heart clenched at his words, at the unexpected tenderness in them.  

I didn’t want tenderness.  

I wanted to forget.  

“Then don’t be gentle,” I whispered, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.  

Something dark flickered in his eyes, and the next thrust was deeper, harder, pulling a moan from my lips.  

He moved with a steady rhythm at first, slow and deliberate, making me feel every inch of him. But as my body responded, as I wrapped my legs around his waist and begged for more, his restraint snapped.

The pace quickened, his thrusts more urgent, more desperate, as if he needed this just as much as I did.  

The air was filled with heavy breathing, whispered curses, the sound of skin meeting skin.

Pleasure coiled tight inside me again, sharp and insistent, building until I was teetering on the edge.  

“Let go, baby.” he groaned, his lips at my ear, his voice thick with need. There was something about the way he said baby. I melted.

And just like before, I let go.  

I shattered beneath him, pleasure rippling through me in waves so intense I could barely breathe.  

He followed moments later, his body tensing before he collapsed against me, both of us spent, our hearts pounding in sync.  

For the first time that night, I wasn’t thinking about Daniel.  

For the first time in years, I let myself feel something real.

And as I drifted into sleep, tangled in the sheets and his warmth, I realized one terrifying truth.  

I might not even know his name…

But he had just ruined me for anyone else.  

***

The next morning, reality hit me like a truck.  

My head throbbed as I stumbled into the office, regretting every tequila shot I had downed the night before.  

“Rough night?” Mia, my coworker, smirked as she passed me in the hallway.  

I forced a tight-lipped smile. If only she knew.  

I dropped into my chair, rubbing my temples. Maybe I could survive the day without collapsing. Maybe…  

The sound of the elevator doors opening caught my attention, followed by the low murmur of voices as he walked in.  

I glanced up… and my breath caught in my throat.  

No.  

No, no, no.  

It couldn’t be.  

But it was.  

The stranger from last night. The man whose name I hadn’t even bothered to ask.  

Standing there in a sharp suit, looking effortlessly powerful, completely in control.

And the entire office stood up as he walked past.  

My boss.  

The man I had just slept with was my boss.