The CEO’s Dirty Contract: Part 2

"Get up, Alex. Clean yourself up and get back to your desk."

Damien's voice cut through the haze as I knelt there, cum still coating my tongue. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, legs shaky as I stood. He adjusted his tie like nothing had happened, those dark eyes watching me with satisfaction.

"Tomorrow," he repeated, smirking. "Don't be late."

I barely slept that night. The taste of him lingered. The shame burned hot in my gut, but so did something else I didn't want to name. By morning, I was at my desk early, pretending to sort emails while my stomach twisted.

My phone buzzed at exactly 8:15.

[Private Elevator. Now. Don't make me wait.]

I swallowed hard and headed down the hall. The private elevator doors opened as soon as I approached. Damien stood inside, already waiting, looking sharp in a charcoal suit that hugged his broad frame.

"Inside," he ordered.

The doors slid shut behind me. Before I could even speak, he slammed the emergency stop button. The elevator jerked to a halt between floors.

"Damien…sir…what are you…"

"Turn around." His hands were already on me, spinning me to face the mirrored wall. "Hands on the glass."

I pressed my palms against the cool surface, breath fogging it up. He pressed against my back, hard body pinning me. One big hand yanked my belt open while the other slid down the front of my pants.

"Fuck," I gasped as his fingers wrapped around my cock. I was already half-hard, traitor that it was. "This is too fast…"

"Too fast?" He chuckled low against my ear, hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "You swallowed my load like a good little cocksucker yesterday. Your body knows what it wants."

His fingers teased my tip, spreading the precum that was already leaking out of me. Shame flooded my face, I was rock hard in seconds, hips twitching forward into his grip despite myself.

"Look at you," he growled, stroking me slowly. "Leaking all over my hand. Straight boy my ass."

I bit my lip to hold back a moan as his other hand worked my pants down just enough. Cool air hit my ass, then two thick fingers pressed against my hole without warning.

"Wait…lube…please—"

"Don't need much. You're going to take what I give you." He pushed one finger inside me anyway, rough and insistent. The stretch burned, but he didn't stop, working it deeper while his other hand kept jerking my cock.

"Ah…shit…" My forehead dropped against the mirror. Every thrust of his finger made my cock jump in his fist. I was leaking so much it dripped onto the elevator floor.

"Second finger," he warned, then shoved it in. I cried out, the sound echoing in the small space. He scissored them, stretching me open, curling to hit that spot that made my knees buckle.

"Damien... fuck... I can't…"

"You can and you will." His voice was dark, hungry. He pumped his fingers faster, the wet squelching sounds filthy. "This tight hole is mine now. Say it."

"It's yours," I gasped, shame and pleasure twisting together as my cock throbbed. Precum smeared all over the mirror where he was jerking me.

"Good boy." He pulled his fingers out suddenly, leaving me empty and clenching. The elevator started moving again. Penthouse level.

We barely made it through the doors before he was on me again, shoving me toward the massive couch in his private office suite. My pants were around my thighs as he bent me over the armrest.

"Spread your legs."

I did, heart pounding. I heard his zipper, then felt the thick, hot head of his bare cock pressing against my hole.

"No condom?" I choked out.

"Bareback, Alex. I want to feel every inch of this virgin ass." He pushed forward, not slow. The head popped in and I groaned loud, the burn intense.

"Too big…slow down…"

"Take it." He gripped my hips hard and drove deeper, inch by thick inch, stretching me wide open. "Fuck, you're tight. Gripping me like you were made for this."

I clawed at the couch cushions, moaning helplessly as he bottomed out. His heavy balls pressed against me. The fullness was overwhelming, hot, throbbing, raw.

Then he started fucking me.

Hard.

Each thrust slammed deep, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. His cock dragged against that spot inside me with every stroke, making my own dick leak steadily onto the leather.

"You feel that?" he grunted, pounding harder. "This is what you signed up for. My personal office whore."

"Yes…fuck…I'm your whore," I moaned, the words spilling out as pleasure overtook the shame. My body betrayed me completely, pushing back to meet his thrusts.

He reached around and stroked me in time with his pounding. "Look at you, dripping everywhere. You love getting fucked by your boss, don't you?"

"I…I do," I admitted, voice breaking. The couch creaked under us as he railed me faster, deeper, one hand fisting my hair to arch my back.

"Say it louder."

"I love it! Fuck me harder, sir…please!"

He growled and gave me exactly what I begged for. Brutal, relentless strokes that had me seeing stars. Sweat slicked our skin. The smell of sex filled the air, musky, dirty, addictive.

"Such a perfect hole," he snarled. "Gonna fill you up every day. Keep you leaking my cum while you work at your desk."

I was close, so fucking close, when he suddenly pulled out. He flipped me onto my back on the couch and climbed over me, stroking his glistening cock furiously.

"Open your mouth."

I barely had time to obey before he exploded. Thick ropes of hot cum painted my face, across my lips, my cheeks, one spurt hitting my tongue. I gasped, tasting him again as it dripped down my chin.

His phone rang sharply on the nearby table.

Damien glanced at the screen, still breathing hard, cock twitching with the last drops of his load.

"It's my wife," he said, voice calm but eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "She's downstairs."