PINNED DOWN part 1

Charlotte’s POV

The office corridors were quiet, emptied of their usual chaos, when I saw Marcus waiting by the elevators. The low light glinted off his broad frame, his suit jacket slung carelessly over one arm, his tie loosened as if the rules of the day no longer applied. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I approached, my chest tightening under the weight of his gaze. By the time the elevator doors slid open, I knew stepping inside with him was a mistake—one I was already desperate to make.

It hadn’t started tonight.

Hours earlier, in the boardroom, he had leaned over me to point something out on a report. His hand brushed mine—accidental, but heavy, deliberate in the way it lingered. The scent of his cologne had filled my head, the heat of his body dangerously close. I remembered the way his voice dropped, the ghost of a smirk when he caught me shifting in my seat. Ever since, my pulse had been racing, my skin too tight, my thoughts a mess of what-ifs I couldn’t control.

The elevator doors slammed shut, sealing us in the cramped box. My heart pounded as Marcus's body pressed against mine, his muscular frame overwhelming me. Before I could catch my breath, he shoved me hard against the cold mirrored wall, my back hitting with a thud that made my teeth rattle.

His hand shot up, wrapping around my throat, fingers digging in just enough to pin me in place. I gasped, air catching in my chest, a mix of fear and heat flooding my veins. 'You like that, don't you, you little slut?' he growled, his voice low and rough, breath hot against my ear. My body betrayed me, pussy already growing wet, thighs clenching as the pressure made me whimper.

I couldn't speak, his grip tightening slightly, making my vision blur at the edges. 'Answer me,' he demanded, grinding his hard cock against my hip through his pants. The friction sent a jolt straight to my core, my nipples hardening under my thin shirt. 'Yes,' I managed to choke out, voice shaky, 'fuck, yes, Marcus.'

He chuckled, a dark sound that vibrated through me. His free hand slid down my side, yanking up my skirt with brute force. 'Good girl,' he whispered, lips brushing my neck as he exposed my soaked panties. I felt his fingers hook into the fabric, pulling them aside roughly, and the cool air hitting my bare pussy. 'You're dripping already, you needy bitch.'

My mind spun, thoughts racing with filthy images of what he'd do next. He released my throat just enough for me to breathe, but his body kept me trapped. I arched against him, craving more, my hands clawing at his shirt. 'Please,' I begged, the word slipping out in a moan. He responded by shoving two fingers inside me, pumping hard and fast, the wet sounds echoing in the confined space.

'Take it,' he ordered, his thumb circling my clit with brutal precision. I bucked against his hand, moans spilling from my lips as he fucked me with his fingers. 'You're such a whore for this, aren't you?' His words hit like a slap, making my insides clench. I nodded frantically, 'God, yes, harder.'

He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving me gasping, and spun me around to face the mirror. My reflection stared back—flushed face, smeared lipstick, eyes wild with lust. Marcus pressed against me from behind, his cock straining against his pants as he ground into my ass. 'Watch yourself,' he commanded, one hand snaking around to squeeze my breast through my shirt. I whimpered, feeling his other hand yank down my panties to my knees.

He unzipped his pants, freeing his thick dick, and rubbed it against my entrance. 'Beg for it,' he snarled, teasing me with shallow thrusts. The anticipation was torture, my pussy throbbing, juices dripping down my thighs. 'Fuck me, Marcus, please, shove that cock inside me,' I pleaded, voice breaking.

He thrust in deep, filling me in one brutal stroke, making me cry out. His hands gripped my hips, pounding into me relentlessly, each thrust slamming me against the mirror. 'That's it, take every inch,' he grunted, his pace frantic. I met his rhythm, pushing back, the slap of skin on skin filling the air. My body trembled, building toward release, but he slowed, teasing, keeping me on the edge.

Just as the elevator dinged, signaling our floor, he pulled out, leaving me panting and desperate. 'Not yet,' he murmured, a wicked grin in his voice. I turned to him, body aching for more, but the doors slid open, leaving us suspended in the thrill.

The elevator doors opened, spilling us into the dimly lit underground garage. The air was cooler here, carrying the faint smell of oil and concrete. My legs were still trembling, my panties dangling around my knees, and Marcus’s hand gripped my wrist firmly, dragging me toward his car.

“Marcus—” I started, but the look he shot over his shoulder silenced me instantly. His eyes burned with that same savage hunger, the kind that didn’t care who might be watching—or that the only sound in the garage was the distant hum of the security guard’s radio.

His car sat tucked in a shadowed corner, sleek and black like him. Without hesitation, he spun me around and shoved me back onto the bonnet…