Yes, Boss 4💦

CHLOE

Mr. Grant didn’t give me time to prepare.

He gripped my thighs and yanked me closer to the edge of the desk so my ass almost hung off. The toy was still buzzing deep inside me, relentless against that sensitive spot. My legs were spread wide, heels dangling, chest rising and falling too fast. I felt completely on display under the harsh office lights.

He looked down at me for a long moment, eyes dark, cock still wet from my mouth.

“You look better like this,” he said quietly. “Naked. Open. Waiting.”

I swallowed hard. “Please…”

I didn’t even know what I was asking for.

He reached down and slowly pulled the vibrating toy out of me. The sudden emptiness made me whimper. He set it aside on the desk, then picked up something else from the drawer — a smaller, bullet-shaped vibrator. He pressed it directly against my swollen clit and turned it on high.

“Ah— fuck!” My back arched hard. The sensation was sharp and overwhelming after everything that had already happened. My hands flew up to cover my face.

He slapped them away.

“Don’t hide. I want to see every expression.”

He kept the bullet pressed firmly against my clit while he lined his cock up with my entrance. I felt the thick head push against me. I was soaked, but he was bigger than Jordan. The stretch burned in the best way as he forced the first few inches inside.

I cried out, thighs trembling.

“Take it,” he ordered, voice still calm. “All of it.”

He pushed deeper in one long, steady thrust until his hips met mine. The fullness knocked the air out of my lungs. I could feel every ridge, every pulse of him. The bullet vibrator never left my clit. The dual sensation made my eyes roll back.

Mr. Grant didn’t start slow.

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in hard enough that the desk creaked. Then again. And again. Each thrust was deep and controlled and merciless. The wet sound of him fucking me filled the quiet office. My breasts bounced with every impact. Soft, broken moans spilled out of me without permission.

“You’re tighter than I expected,” he muttered, gripping my hips harder. “Even after your little friends used you last night.”

Hearing him talk about it made my pussy clench around him. He felt it and gave a low, satisfied sound.

He fucked me harder.

The desk shook. My moans got louder. I tried to stay quiet — we were in the office, anyone could walk by — but I couldn’t. Every time he bottomed out, a desperate little cry left my throat. The vibrator on my clit was pushing me toward the edge terrifyingly fast.

“I’m— I’m gonna come—” I gasped.

“Not yet.”

He pulled the vibrator away. The sudden loss made me sob in frustration. He kept thrusting, deep and steady, watching my face the entire time.

“You come when I say. Understand?”

I nodded frantically, tears of overwhelm pricking my eyes.

He reached into the drawer again and pulled out a pair of nipple clamps connected by a thin chain. My stomach dropped.

“Mr. Grant—”

He ignored the protest. He pinched one nipple hard, then clamped it. The sharp bite of pain made me yelp. He did the same to the other. The chain rested on my chest, and every time he thrust, it tugged lightly.

“Fuck— it hurts—”

“It’s supposed to,” he said. Then he put the bullet vibrator back on my clit and turned it up.

The combination was devastating. The deep, hard fucking. The constant buzz on my clit. The sharp pull on my nipples with every movement. My body started shaking violently. I was right on the edge again, desperate and overwhelmed.

“Please,” I begged. “Please let me come—”

He leaned over me, still thrusting, and spoke against my ear.

“Come.”

I shattered.

The orgasm ripped through me so hard my vision went white. I cried out loudly, pussy clamping down on his cock in hard pulses. My back arched off the desk. The chain between the clamps tugged sharply on my nipples, adding another layer of intensity that made me sob through the climax. It felt endless. Wave after wave while he kept fucking me through it, never slowing down.

When I finally started coming down, I was a mess — tears on my cheeks, spit on my chin, body twitching.

Mr. Grant wasn’t finished.

He pulled out, flipped me over onto my stomach like I weighed nothing, and shoved back inside me from behind in one hard thrust. The new angle made me cry out again. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back while he fucked me roughly, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the office.

“This is what you sold yourself for,” he said, voice rougher now. “A promotion. A raise. And my cock whenever I want it.”

I could only moan in response, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the desk.

He reached around and pressed the vibrator to my clit again. I was so oversensitive it almost hurt, but the pleasure was still there, building a third orgasm I didn’t think I could survive.

“One more,” he ordered. “Come on my cock again.”

I did. Helplessly. My third orgasm was weaker but still intense, leaving me limp and shaking under him. Only then did he let himself go. He buried himself deep, gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, and came with a low, guttural groan. I felt every hot pulse of him filling me.

For a long moment the only sound in the office was our heavy breathing.

He pulled out slowly. I felt his cum start to leak out of me and drip down my thighs. He removed the nipple clamps one by one. The blood rushed back in a sharp, stinging wave that made me whimper.

Mr. Grant stepped back, tucking himself into his pants like nothing had happened. He looked down at me — still bent over his desk, legs trembling, cum running down my thighs, nipples red and sore, hair a mess.

“Clean yourself up,” he said calmly. “There’s a private bathroom through that door. Then get dressed and go back to your desk. The promotion paperwork will be on your email by the end of the day.”

I pushed myself up on shaky arms. My legs felt like they might give out.

As I walked toward the bathroom on unsteady heels, still naked, still leaking him, I heard his voice one more time.

“Chloe.”

I looked back.

Mr. Grant was already sitting behind his desk again, looking completely composed.

“Same time next week,” he said. “Don’t be late. This is just the beginning.”