The CEOs Star

" You like getting fucked like this, don't you?" The man pounding into Lena from behind said. Lena could barely respond as the pleasure rolling through her was so intense that her mouth hung open, her tongue nearly rolling out.

The man gripped her hair and pulled her head back with it, causing her to gasp from the pain that came with his hard grip, " Answer me, you slut " He growled.

" Yes, yes." She moaned as he continued fucking her hard from the back.

The camera man zoomed in then, capturing every moment, from the juices running down her thighs, to the man's large dick pumping into her soaked core mercilessly. Her back was arched in a painful way but she didn't complain, she knew this was what her viewers wanted. This was what they paid to see, her getting worked on in all positions by whoever. It didn't matter, they just wanted to see HER, and she loved it.

But, she also wanted to experience something more than this, she had never worked a "normal" job. Never experienced that 9-5 life, and it was something she craved.

Sure, her job was fun and exciting, and it came with a lot of benefits, both sexual and financial. But, it didn't change the fact that she felt like she hadn't lived like everyone else around her.

Which was why she had somewhere to be.

" Fuck." The man grunted as he continued pumping inside her. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt him deeper in her, hitting her G-spot. The camera zoned in on her face, taking in her pleasure filled expression. Her face fell flat on the bed as he let go of her hair and grabbed her soft breast with his rough hand. She moaned at the contact, he pinched her nipple and that only intensified her pleasure.

She looked at the camera man for a second and noticed the raging bulge in his trousers, he was getting hard watching them. Usually as a token to her workers she would grant him some release but she couldn't stick around after.

Heat pooled in her belly as she felt her orgasm building. She screamed and moaned louder than necessary as she came, her juices creaming his dick still pumping inside her. She felt him pull out of her and knew that he was close, he rubbed himself off and came on her back, his hot semen splashing on her skin.

The camera man zoomed in on their faces one last time before he stopped filming.

Lena Morgan wiped the sweat off her brow and smiled faintly at the camera lens still pointed her way. The man she’d just performed with disappeared into his changing room without a word, and she didn’t mind. It was always like this—no names, no affection, just bodies and angles and chemistry that could be bought and sold.

She stepped off the set, her bare feet padding against the cold studio floor, and made her way toward the changing room. Behind her, the cameraman lingered with a familiar look of longing. She caught his gaze and gave a small, apologetic shrug.

“Next time, Johnny,” she said, closing the door behind her.

The water ran hot over her skin in the shower, washing off the last remnants of her performance. But it did little to silence the voices in her head. You’re a star, Lux Monroe. They adore you. They want you.

But what do you want?

Lena stepped out and toweled off, slipping into something she never thought she’d wear outside a scene: a black pencil skirt, crisp white blouse, and nude heels. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun, and with just a touch of lip gloss and mascara, she looked like the kind of woman you’d trust to schedule your meetings—not one who moaned for the camera just an hour ago.

She was fastening her earring when Dan, her manager, poked his head in.

“Johnny’s jerking off in the bathroom. You really lit him up today,” he said with a smirk. “The vid’s going to break records.”

“Thanks,” Lena replied, spritzing herself with perfume. “But I’ve got somewhere to be. Can’t be late on the first day.”

Dan groaned dramatically. “Why are you doing this again? You’re already a legend. You're p**n royalty . Why trade all this for some depressing desk job?”

“It’s not a trade. It’s a taste of something different.” She grabbed her purse. “I just want to know what it feels like to be... normal.”

“You’re not normal, Lena. You’re Lux Monroe.”

She gave him a wink and walked out. As she passed the bathroom, she heard muffled grunts and the sound of one of her own moans playing from a phone speaker. Johnny. She smiled faintly.

Outside, the city buzzed around her. She hailed a cab and slid inside.

“Cross Enterprises,” she told the driver, settling into the back seat.

As the car wove through traffic, Lena’s heart began to race—not from arousal, but anxiety. She hadn’t had a “real” job since her brief stint waitressing in college. That was before she discovered how easy it was to make money filming herself. She’d started with solo videos in her dorm room, never imagining she’d become Lux Monroe, a name whispered on forums, typed into search bars, and printed on custom merch.

But Lena Morgan wanted to try being more than a fantasy.

The cab pulled up in front of a sleek glass building that stretched toward the clouds. The Cross Enterprises logo gleamed from the top like a golden stamp of power.

She stepped out, adjusted her skirt, and entered the marble-floored lobby. Men and women in suits moved like clockwork, their expressions focused and impatient. Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she approached the front desk.

The receptionist, a woman with cold eyes and a tighter bun than hers, looked her up and down—twice.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone clipped.

“Lena Morgan,” she said politely. “I’m the new secretary for Mr. Damian Cross. Today’s my first day.”

The woman tapped a few keys. “Thirteenth floor. First door to your right.”

“Thank you.”

The elevator ride felt longer than it was. Her phone buzzed just as the doors began to close.

Evan.

She answered quickly. “Hey, I forgot to tell you—I made it.”

“I called this morning. You didn’t pick up.”

“Oh—sorry. Just nerves. Getting ready and everything.” She kept her tone light, praying he couldn’t hear the lie in her voice. Evan didn’t know about Lux Monroe. He thought she was just his sweet, slightly mysterious girlfriend with an business degree and a freelancing gig.

“You meet your boss yet?”

“Not yet. I’m on my way now.”

“Let me know how it goes. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The elevator dinged, and Lena stepped out onto the thirteenth floor. She smoothed her skirt, steadied her breathing, and walked toward the large door. She knocked once.

“Come in,” a deep voice called from inside.

She pushed the door open and stepped into an office straight out of a corporate magazine—dark oak furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, and an air of power that filled the room.

Behind the desk sat a man in a tailored black suit, sharp-jawed and striking. His ice-blue eyes locked onto her like she was both a puzzle and a memory. For a moment, he didn’t speak.

Then, barely above a whisper, he said something she didn’t quite catch.

“Excuse me?” Lena asked, stepping closer.

He stood slowly, his gaze never wavering. “Lux Monroe.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

He knew who she was!