LOGINBy day, she files papers. By night, she breaks the internet. Lena Morgan isn’t your average secretary. By night, the world knows her as Lux Monroe—the most-watched porn star on the internet. By day, she’s trying to live a quieter life, blending into the corporate world as the new assistant at Cross Enterprises. But her secret isn’t safe. Damien Cross—the enigmatic billionaire CEO—recognized her the moment she stepped into his office. He’s not just a fan. He’s obsessed. And he didn’t hire her by accident.
View MoreThe sharp, incessant knocking yanked Lena from the depths of sleep.She groaned, rolling over and burying her face in the pillow. Her body ached—from the long night of filming, the car ride that had ended in something far too intimate, and the way her thoughts had tangled into knots ever since. Every part of her craved five more minutes.Bang. Bang. Bang.“Ugh, I’m coming!” she snapped, dragging herself out of bed. Her legs protested, sore and shaky, and she glanced at herself in the mirror on her way to the door. Her hair was a mess, her eyes puffy with sleep, and her oversized tee was hanging off one shoulder like she’d just survived a hurricane.She opened the door, squinting at the morning sun—and there stood Evan. Bright-eyed, fresh-faced, and holding a brown paper bag that smelled like heaven.“Whoa,” he laughed, stepping inside. “Must’ve been one hell of a girls’ night.”“Huh?” she blinked, still groggy as she closed the door.“Girls’ night,” he repeated, already heading to the
Two men held her up—one gripping beneath her knees, the other behind her back—spreading her wide as the man in front delivered his final thrusts. His jaw clenched, his breaths sharp and broken. Then he stilled with a guttural groan, spilling inside her. The camera zoomed in, catching every detail: the slow withdrawal of his glistening shaft, the drip of cum leaking from her swollen folds, the sheen of sweat gluing a few strands of hair to her cheek. “That’s it,” Johnny said, voice flat as he clicked off the camera. “Cut. We’re good.” Lena exhaled with relief, her body relaxing all at once as the men gently lowered her onto the sheets. They'd already reshot this scene twice tonight—once because she’d sneezed halfway through, another time because the second guy had come too soon. Not ideal when you're playing the desperate, sex-starved housewife whose husband couldn't keep it up. Apparently, viewers loved that trope. The plotlines were always ridiculous, like fever dreams on paper.
If tension could be bottled, Lena’s office would be overflowing with it by noon. The morning had been a blur of emails, scheduling chaos, and trying not to think about Damien Cross—the same man who had his pinned her against the door of his office mere hours ago. She hadn’t seen him since that unexpected shocking encounter, and part of her hoped it would stay that way. It had been too much. Too intense. So when her office door eased open and Evan stepped in holding a brown bag and wearing that cocky grin she always loved, she exhaled in surprise. “Hey,” he said, lifting the bag. “Thought you might be hungry.” Her brows shot up. “Evan? What are you doing here?” “Bringing you lunch. It's your first day and it's already so busy, and I figured you wouldn’t have time to grab anything.” He walked toward her desk and placed the bag down. Lena smiled despite herself. “That’s... really sweet of you. Thank you.” “Of course.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Figured I’d ste
The rhythmic motion of Damien’s hand beneath the desk matched the steady moans coming from his computer speakers. He leaned back in his leather chair, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. Lux Monroe. She was on all fours, a man behind her, gripping her hair, thrusting deep and hard. “Fuck,” Damien moaned, stroking himself faster. Her body was perfection—curves that could drive a man insane, eyes that begged and defied all at once. He’d been watching her videos for years—hell, he knew the exact moment new ones dropped. And this one? It was the most recent. She looked even better in motion. The man on-screen dragged his hand from her hair to her breast, pinching her erect pink nipple. Damien groaned low and deep. His grip tightened around his thick, veiny cock. He wanted to be that guy. No—he wanted to be every guy who’d ever touched her, but better. Her moans increased , breathy and raw, and Damien’s pace matched the rising heat on screen. He imagined it was him












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