MasukZendaya~~
"I will forgive you." My bottom lip trembles. "Only if you make me cum." I point to my bag where the fake cock could be seen. "It has helped me for the past three years but it doesn't stop the ache I always feel. It hurts so much. I've missed you deep inside me, Malacia. You don't know how much I have." He stared at me, licking his lips. "I would say the same too, Zee. I searched the entire New York just to find you, but fate was against me all the time. I've always craved your touch every fucking night, and never did I gave up on my search. I'm so sorry for..." Tears gather again. "Please stop talking and relieve me of this fucking ache, pleaseee.." I reach down, tugging at his belt before I carefully peel the hem of his trousers. Thanks to the torchlight of his phones still on, I was able to see his huge budge. I smile excitedly. It's been so fucking long. He stood still as I set the waistband of his trouser under his balls. I didn't care any less as the trouser peeled down his legs onto the floor. His ragged breathing above me made me grin. It was enough to let me know that I was doing the right thing. His cock hardens under my hands and I give it some time to get ready while I tie my hair to a ponytail. I kneel down, staring at the crown of his cock greedily. Leaning forward, without using my hands yet, I suck its head with my mouth. My eyes roll back at the salty taste, and my pussy throbs. I keep doing that for some seconds and the more I sucked it the larger his cock became. I couldn't take it any more. I took it in my small hands, trying to wrap my hands at the base of his shaft but as expected, my hands didn't make it all the way round. I grin, looking up at him with my eyes. "Fuck, baby!!" He groaned. "Don't look at me with those eyes." I lick at his crown, stroking up and down softly as I bring him to full arousal. I loved the way he ran his hand through his hair. I know I was driving him crazy. These three years wasn't spent on just crying, I used it to build myself, to know how to fuck pretty good. How to make a man moan your name, to lose control. I was done being the good girl I once was. The girl who didn't do stuff like this. Who knew nothing about this part of life. Another soft groan slips out of his throat, and my pussy clenches. I keep stroking up and down, my eyes still locked to his. "That's enough, Zee." He says as he stands me up, and before I know it, my panties are off my body. He puts my bum on the counter and without any heads up, he pushes a finger at my entrance. I gasp at the first touch of his fingertips in me after what feels like forever. I lean back on the counter, my pussy now in full view. The expression on his face was priceless. I was glad that I'm able to see this expression again. It was filled with desire, filled with lust just for me. He rubs gently, fingers teasing at my hole as he gathers my wetness. His stare is intense as he watches himself play with my pussy. He shifts his body closer to mine, and brings his phone that lay beside me on the counter. I didn't know how that got there nor do I care. I was wondering what he was going to do with it. He uses his other hand to open my puffy lips and expose my swollen clit to the phone's light. His breath catches. "What?" I ask, peering down. He looks up at me with a gaze that was darker than before. I felt the urge to rub my pussy together in order to create friction between my thighs. "Such pretty pussy, Zee, just like I remembered." I blush, settling back into the counter. "Please, don't be gentle, Malachia." I beg, my voice pleading. "I want you to fuck me senseless." "Mmmm." He hums, ignoring my pleads as his attention returns back to his sinful hands. His thumb circles my pussy as he finally pushes two fingers into me. "Ohh, gods.." I moan, wriggling my hips. "Shhh, sugar. Even the thunder isn't as loud as you sound." He says hoarsely. I can bet he has that wicked grin on his face now. His fingers move leisurely, but I'm such a horny freak that each finger he pushes loudly squelches my juices all over his fingers. "Does it feel good, Zendaya?" He rasp, pushing a third finger in, fucking me with them faster and faster. "Arghhh," is all I manage to say. How could my damn brain form words when I was in this kind of situation? Suddenly, I feel his hot breath between my open legs. It fans my pussy lips and I could feel more of my juices spilling out. "We can't let all these go to waste, can we?" I try raising my head up to see what he was gonna do next but I wasn't successful. My vision darkens when I feel his lips on my pussy. He moans between my legs, sucking my hole to the point that I forgot how to breathe. "Oh, god.. oh, goddd!" I exclaim as he kept doing pleasurable things to me with his tongue. I've never been sucked down there, never really thought it would feel this.. this pleasurable. "You're so hot and wet that your delicious juices keep spilling out." His tongue teases me running across my bud and I thrash my body on the counter but he holds my hips still with his firm hands. This feeling is something I never thought I would experience. "Take off your bra. I want to watch you play with yourself from beneath your legs." He commands. And fuck, I obey. I rock my hips up, trying so hard to chase that release that seems to be close but not quite there. "Show me those beautiful tits that I haven't seen in a long while, Zendaya." He snaps at me, and my shaky hands pull off my crop top and I try for some seconds to unhook my bra. It doesn't budge. "Don't waste any more second. I want to view those milky tits from down here." Finally, my bra unhooks behind me and I slowly pull it off. Cupping my heavy breasts, I turn to see his eyes change, filled with the darkest desire I've ever seen since tonight. "You've become so full, Zendaya. Look at those beauties." His eyes heated as he stares. "Now, do me a favour and pleasure yourself. I want to hear your moans, Zendaya." I touched my sensitive nipples, a little moan escaped my lips, followed by another and another before it intensifies as I no longer squeeze them gently. His hand slides over my belly to push my hands away. He cups my breast himself. His sense organs use my body to learn how to multitask. One sense organ touches, feels and pinches my nipples while the other sucks my pussy bud making me cry out loud. He moans, fucking me with his mouth and lips. His tongue goes in and out of my pussy hole. Blood shots up to my brain. "Arrghh, Malachia." I moaned out his name, arching my back. His mouth leaves me suddenly. I exhale and inhale heavily. Looking at him with a questioning gaze. "What's wrong?" I whisper out of breath. But what I didn't expect was for him to turn my bum to his face. I gasp, suddenly filled with excitement. Is he gonna fuck me from behind?!Chapter 9: Redemption FireThe elevator ride to Marcus's penthouse felt eternal, each floor a step deeper into the unknown. I'd faced Sophia at Apex Tower that noon, her smug face twisted in triumph as she waved the doctored video like a weapon. But I'd come prepared—not with Marcus's files, but with my own resolve. I'd recorded her gloating, her admissions slipping out in venomous bursts: the fake coercion claim, the HR leak, the blackmail scheme to cripple him for good. 'He ruined me,' she'd hissed, eyes wild. 'Now I'll bury him—and you, for choosing the enemy.' I'd walked out with her confession in my pocket, straight to the authorities. By evening, arrests were in motion; her empire of lies crumbling under the weight of evidence.But none of that mattered now. What burned was the fracture between us, the doubt I'd let fester. Marcus hadn't answered my texts since last night, his silence a wall I'd built with my skepticism. I needed to tear it down, brick by brick. The doors opened
Chapter 8: The Real VillainThe anonymous text hit my phone like a sucker punch while I was still catching my breath in the elevator up to Marcus's penthouse. The video is real. Choose your side, Elena. Or everyone sees. My fingers trembled as I reread it, the words blurring with the motion of the rising floors. Video? Of what—our frantic fucks in the office, his cock slamming into me over the conference table? Or something buried deeper in his history, the kind of dirt that could drag us both under? Mom's warnings from earlier that day clawed at the edges of my mind, her voice sharp with old grudges: He's just like his father. Users, all of them. But Marcus had resigned for me, thrown away his throne to shield us. Was this the universe's way of saying she was right?The doors slid open, and I stepped into the hushed luxury of his hallway, the marble cool under my heels. I knocked, my heart hammering louder than the sound. When he opened the door, his expression shifted from guarded t
Chapter 7: The Breaking PointThe weekend dragged like a shadow, each hour heavy with the weight of Mom's overheard confession. I avoided her eyes over breakfast, picking at toast while she chattered about her shift schedule, her voice too bright, too normal. The apartment felt smaller, the walls pressing in with unspoken accusations. Richard's infidelity ploy, her resentment toward Marcus—it all looped in my mind, twisting the narrative I'd clung to. Was she the villain now, her warnings a shield for her own shattered dreams? Or was I grasping at straws to justify the pull toward Marcus, the forbidden ache that had only grown since the HR storm?By Monday morning, the office buzzed with a different energy, whispers rippling through the cubicles like electricity before a storm. I arrived early, coffee in hand, determined to reclaim some ground under Carla's watchful reassignment. But the elevator dinged open to chaos: reporters clustered at the lobby doors, cameras flashing, questions
Chapter 6: Mother’s Real Motive (Twist #2)The days blurred into a haze of guarded glances and whispered investigations after the HR meeting. I navigated the office like a ghost, my assignments funneled through Carla's oversight, every email scrutinized, every interaction logged. Marcus and I communicated in code—stolen notes in shared drives, brief nods in passing elevators that spoke volumes without a word. His fury had simmered into calculated resolve; he'd already tasked his IT team with tracing the anonymous leak, pulling server logs and email metadata under the guise of a routine audit. Victor Lang shot me sidelong looks in the break room, his smile too polished, too knowing. Marcus's father? Silent on the board calls, but his absence felt ominous. And Sarah—the ghost from Marcus's past—her name lingered like a threat, a potential puppet master pulling strings from the shadows.But beneath the corporate paranoia, my mind churned with personal fractures. Mom's warnings echoed lou
Chapter 5: The Frame-Up The storm had passed by morning, leaving the city slick and gleaming under a reluctant sun, but inside me, the chaos raged on. I dragged myself to Hale Tech with shadows under my eyes, the weight of last night's confrontation pressing like a vice on my chest. Marcus's words echoed—love, raw and desperate, clashing against Mom's warnings of manipulation and control. I'd slammed the door on him, on us, but sleep had evaded me, replaying every heated glance, every commanding touch from our stolen moments. Stepbrother or not, the pull between us was a live wire, dangerous and undeniable. The office buzzed with its usual rhythm—keyboards clacking, phones ringing, the hum of ambition in the air. I kept my head down, burying myself in spreadsheets and emails, my cubicle a flimsy fortress against the world. Elena Hale, the intern who blurred lines with the CEO. No one knew, or so I thought. But every time the elevator dinged, my pulse spiked, half-expecting his broad
Chapter 4: The Truth He Hates The rain started just after I got home that Friday evening, a relentless downpour that matched the storm churning inside me. I'd spent the week fortifying my walls higher than ever—skipping team lunches, routing all communication through email, even switching my route to the coffee machine to avoid the hallway where Marcus's office lurked like a predator's den. But the avoidance only amplified the ache, a constant throb in my chest that made sleep elusive and focus impossible. Mom's warnings replayed on loop: He's always been that way—controlling, willing to do anything to get what he wants. The scandal she'd unearthed, pieced together from old whispers and a quick online dig, painted him as a monster. Coercion. Payoff. A girl ruined, silenced by money. How could I have been so blind? I kicked off my flats in the entryway of my cramped apartment, the one I'd rented to escape the family home and its tangled histories. The space was a sanctuary of sorts—







