Yes, Boss 3💦

CHLOE

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes I felt Jordan’s mouth between my legs again, Maya’s fingers on my nipples, the heavy stretch of being filled for the first time in a way that actually felt good. My body still ached in places I didn’t know could ache. When I finally got up, there were faint bruises on my hips from Jordan’s hands and a tender mark on my left breast where Maya had sucked too hard.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at myself.

Chloe. Twenty-four. Broke. One promotion away from not panicking every time rent was due.

I got dressed carefully. Black blouse. Pencil skirt. The same heels I wore yesterday. No stockings. I left my hair down. When I looked at my reflection again, I barely recognized the girl staring back. She looked like someone who had been thoroughly used the night before and was about to walk into her boss’s office to get used again.

My phone buzzed.

Maya: You going?

I stared at the message for a long time before typing back.

Me: Yeah.

Jordan: Be careful. And text us after.

I didn’t reply.

At 7:52 I was standing outside Mr. Grant’s office door, heart slamming so hard I felt dizzy. The floor was almost empty. Most people didn’t come in this early. I raised my hand, hesitated, then knocked.

“Come in.”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The soft click of the lock felt final.

Mr. Grant was already behind his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked up from his computer and his eyes moved over me slowly — from my face, down my blouse, to my legs, then back up. He didn’t smile.

“You came,” he said.

My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “Yes.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Lock the door.”

I already had, but I turned and checked it anyway. When I faced him again he gestured to the space in front of his desk.

“Come here.”

My legs felt unsteady as I walked. I stopped a few feet away. He watched me for a long moment, saying nothing. The silence stretched until my skin started to prickle.

“Take off your blouse.”

The order was calm. Quiet. Absolute.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the buttons. One by one I undid them, feeling his eyes on every inch of skin I revealed. When the blouse was open I shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor. I was wearing a simple black bra. Nothing special. My nipples were already tight underneath it.

“Bra too.”

I reached back and unclasped it. The straps slid down my arms. I dropped it on top of the blouse. Cool office air touched my bare breasts. I had the sudden urge to cover myself, but I forced my arms to stay at my sides.

Mr. Grant’s gaze lingered on my chest. His expression didn’t change much, but something darker settled in his eyes.

“Skirt.”

I unzipped it and pushed it down over my hips. It pooled at my feet. I stepped out of it, now only in my black panties and heels. My face burned. Last night Maya and Jordan had seen me naked and it had felt intimate, almost safe. This felt different. Clinical. Like I was being inspected.

He stood up and walked around the desk until he was right in front of me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne again. He reached out and brushed his thumb over my left nipple. I sucked in a sharp breath. The contact was light, but after last night my body was still hypersensitive.

“Sensitive,” he murmured, almost to himself. He pinched it — not gently like Maya had at first, but firm enough to make me gasp. “Have you been touched recently, Chloe?”

The use of my name made my stomach flip.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “When?”

“Last night.”

A slow, knowing look crossed his face. He pinched my other nipple harder. I bit my lip to keep from making noise.

“Who?”

“My friends,” I whispered. “Both of them.”

He made a low sound in his throat that might have been approval. His hand slid down my stomach and cupped me over my panties. I was already wet. He could feel it. I knew he could feel it.

“You’re soaked,” he said, voice still calm. “Did they make you come?”

I nodded, cheeks burning.

“How many times?”

“Twice,” I managed.

He pressed two fingers against my clit through the thin fabric and rubbed in a slow circle. My hips jerked. A small, helpless sound escaped me.

“Good,” he said. “Then you’re already warmed up.”

He hooked his fingers in the sides of my panties and dragged them down my legs. I stepped out of them on shaky heels. Now I was completely naked except for the shoes. He tossed the panties onto his desk like they were nothing.

Mr. Grant walked back behind his desk, opened a drawer, and took something out. My stomach clenched when I saw it — a small black remote and a curved toy I didn’t fully recognize.

He set them on the desk.

“Bend over.”

I stared at him.

“Now, Chloe.”

I turned and bent forward, placing my hands flat on the polished wood of his desk. The position made me feel even more exposed. Cool air touched my wet pussy. I heard him move behind me. His palm settled on my lower back, then slid down to grip one of my ass cheeks, squeezing hard enough that I knew it would leave a mark.

“Arch.”

I did. The movement pushed my ass back toward him. He made a low sound of approval.

I felt something cool and smooth press against my entrance. Not his cock. The toy. He rubbed it up and down through my wetness, coating it, then began pushing it inside me slowly. I was still a little sore from Jordan the night before, and the stretch made me whimper.

“Breathe,” he said. “Take it.”

He worked the toy deeper until it was fully seated inside me. The shape pressed against that sensitive spot Jordan had found with his fingers. My legs trembled.

Then he turned it on.

A low, steady vibration started deep inside me. My mouth fell open on a silent gasp. He adjusted something on the remote and the intensity increased. My arms nearly gave out.

“Stay just like that,” Mr. Grant said.

I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, then his zipper. My heart was hammering so hard I felt lightheaded. He stepped closer. The head of his cock brushed against my cheek, then my lips.

“Open.”

I opened my mouth. He slid the head past my lips, heavy and hot and already leaking. The taste of him spread across my tongue. He didn’t give me time to adjust — he pushed deeper, one hand fisting in my hair, until I felt him at the back of my throat. I gagged softly. The vibration inside me intensified at the same moment, and a broken moan vibrated around his cock.

He started fucking my mouth in slow, controlled strokes, using my hair to hold me exactly where he wanted. Every time he pushed deep the toy buzzed harder against that spot inside me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Spit ran down my chin. I could barely think.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take it. This is what you agreed to.”

I moaned around him, the sound wet and filthy. My thighs were shaking. The combination of the toy and his cock in my throat was pushing me toward another orgasm embarrassingly fast.

He pulled out of my mouth suddenly, a string of spit connecting my lips to the head of his cock. I gasped for air, chin wet, eyes glassy.

Mr. Grant looked down at me, still completely composed except for the flush on his neck and the thick cock glistening in front of my face.

“On the desk,” he said. “On your back. Legs open.”

I climbed onto the desk on unsteady arms and legs. The wood was cool against my bare back. I spread my thighs. He stepped between them, looking down at the toy still vibrating inside me, at how wet I was, at the way my chest rose and fell too fast.

He reached down and turned the vibration higher.

My back arched off the desk. A loud, broken moan tore out of me before I could stop it.

Mr. Grant’s mouth curved slightly.

“We’re just getting started, Chloe.”