Giving in first and last

~ Thea's POV

Three weeks.

For three agonizing weeks, I'd been a ghost in Stellan Vaughn's penthouse, it felt more like a cage so high above New York, and I was his prisoner. I was a fucking adult.

And for three weeks, Stellan himself had been a ghost, as if he were running away from something.

After that first, terrifying night in his garage where he had given a condition that I had to be married to leave his care, he had vanished. He left before I woke up. He came home after I was asleep.

The only proof of his existence was the customized black card giving me access to whatever I wanted to buy. If I were the naughty kind, I should have splurged his card to get me to see him, but instead of that, I thought of a better idea.

I got an internship at his office.

I thought he would particularly ignore my request, but to my surprise, he accepted it when I saw his email on a monday morning. And I hate the fact my pussy ached when I read his formal words.

But I was here for a different reason.

I would prove to Dad's memory that I could run his company, even after twelve years abroad. I wasn't just his little girl anymore. I was capable, damn it, even if my colleagues buried me with work, their files, and coffee runs piling up like a middle finger to my ambitions.

Tonight was no different. The main office floor had emptied hours ago, the silence broken only by the click-clack of my keyboard. The mindless data entry kept my brain from thinking.

A soft beep from my phone made me jump. My 8 PM alarm.

Eight o'clock. My stomach growled. I’d been here for eleven hours. I sighed, rubbing my tired eyes, and began saving the files. The building was silent. Too silent.

A prickle of awareness ran down my spine. The kind of feeling you get when you just know you’re not alone.

My skin flushed, my core clenching with a familiar, shameful ache I'd tried to bury. Ovulation, Thea. Just hormones. I'd been telling myself that repeatedly for weeks, pretending my need for Stellan was just my ovulation.

Not this twisted, filthy pull that kept me awake, fingers slipping between my thighs, imagining his hands instead.

I turned, still feeling that prickling sense, my heart in my throat.

Behind me, watching from above, was Stellan's office. I thought I wouldn't see anyone standing there; perhaps he had gone, but to my dismay, Stellan was there. Leaning against his office door, his dark eyes boring into me like I was prey.

No longer running?

He wasn't wearing his white shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. My breath hitched as I watched him take a slow slip from the glass of wine in his hands. 

I spun back to my screen, fingers trembling on the keyboard, but my body betrayed me, heat pooled between my legs, and I bit my lips, my heart racing. My panties were already damp.

Not again.

I squeezed my thighs together, willing the ache away. He wasn't there. He couldn't be. Thea, you were just imagining things again.

But when I glanced again, he was standing at my desk, his shadow swallowing me. I jerked my head back to the screen, my heart hammering, my pulse so loud that I knew it was enough to travel across the damn office.

His scent hit me, smoke and citrus, and something primal that made my clit throb. 

He leaned over my chair, his breath hot on my neck, and I froze, every nerve screaming for him to touch me, when the only thing he was doing was leaning over me.

"Why are you still here, Thea?' His voice was low, gravelly, like he was fighting something. "It's late."

I swallowed, my mouth dry. "Work. They... dumped a lot on me. I have to finish." My voice shook, betraying the need coiling in my gut.

I stared at the screen, numbers blurring, but all I could feel was his presence, the way his arm brushed the back of my chair, sending a jolt straight to my core.

I was mad, I deserved to be put in a mental asylum for needing someone like Stellan.

For some minutes, he didn't talk. Until he finally broke the silence, softer this time. "What have you done to me, Thea?"

His voice was strained, almost broken.

I blinked, turning slightly. "What did you say?"

He straightened, stepping back and shifting his expression to a blank one. "Nothing. Pack your stuff, I will be dropping you home." His voice was clipped, but I caught something else.

My eyes strained on the bulge straining against his trousers, impossible to miss.

My eyes widened, heat flooding my cheeks. Was he hard for me? For me?! 

The thought was so wrong, so vile, and it made my core clench tighter. Before I knew it, the words were spilling out of my lips.

"You're going out like that?" I asked, my voice bolder than I felt, nodding at his crotch. 

My pulse raced, a mix of shame and hunger. I wanted it, wanted him. His scent was calling me like the voice of a siren, musky and raw, begging me to taste it.

Stellan's jaw ticked, a flush creeping up his neck. "This is nothing you should concern yourself with."

But his eyes betrayed him, dark and hungry, locked on my lips.

Aren't you a dirty man, craving your late best friend's daughter, just a few weeks after his burial?

I licked my lips, deliberate, watching his throat bob. "I can help," I whispered, the words spilling out before I could stop them. My body screamed for it, for him, for the filthy release I'd been chasing in my dreams. "Let me."

His eyes widened, shock flashing before something darker took over. "Thea, no–"

"Please." I stepped closer, my voice firm. "I want to."

He stared, then grabbed my wrist, pulling me into his office. The door shut, blinds snapping closed, sealing us in. He sank into his leather chair, legs spread, and I dropped to my knees between them.

My heart pounded so hard I thought I'd faint.

Thea, you could stop now. I screamed in my head. But I still stared hungrily at his bulge inches from my face, straining, begging. The scent was like a drug pulling me in.

I licked my lips again, and he groaned, low and tortured.

I licked my lips again, and he groaned, low and tortured.

"Suck it, Thea," he ordered. My name on his lips made my core throb, wet and aching. "Now."

I fumbled with his zipper, my hands shaking as I freed him. His cock sprang out, huge, thick, and heavy, the tip glistening. How was I going to take all of him inside me?

I wasn’t a virgin. I knew what to do. I began to stroke, my thumb pressing on the sensitive vein, my other hand cupping him. I used a twisting motion I’d learned in London, and he groaned, his hips bucking. I was high on the sound, on the power I had over him.

He was losing it. I could feel the tremor in his thigh, the way his breathing hitched. I leaned in, my tongue darting out to taste the single drop of pre-come at his tip. 

"Fuck, Thea," he growled, in a frustrated sigh. 

I leaned in, my tongue flicking the tip, tasting salt and heat, then took him deep, my lips stretching around him.

I swirled my tongue, teasing the underside, sucking hard, then soft, moving in ways I hoped would unravel him. His groans grew louder, desperate, his thighs tensing under my hands. I glanced up, meeting his dark, wild eyes, completely lost in me, and my clit pulsed.

My panties were soaked through, and I wanted to reach there and chase my own climax.

I bobbed faster, hollowing my cheeks, my tongue dancing over him, relishing every shudder, every curse from his sinful lips. He was close, I could feel it in the way his cock twitched, the way his breath hitched. 

"Thea," he rasped, his hand finally tangling in my hair, pulling just enough to sting. "This... is the first and last time. Promise me."

I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, my lips wet, my voice a husky whisper. "Yes, Daddy."

That was all it took to realize that we were both fucked.