All Chapters of Addicted To His Touch {AN MM COLLECTION}: Chapter 51 - Chapter 58

Ethan told himself he was not going to cry in the supply closet. He stood between boxes of branded pens and stacks of copy paper and breathed through his nose until the burn in his eyes went down. His phone buzzed with the message he had already memorized."You sent the draft deck. Not the final. Fix it. Now."No signature. No need. Damien Voss never signed messages. Everyone knew his tone even in three words. Ethan stared at the screen and hated the way his stomach turned over like he was falling. He was new. He was careful. He was careful until he was not, and Damien caught it. Every time.He fixed it. He fixed it twice. He checked the slides until the numbers swam. He checked the talking points until the words blurred. The office floor was a glass box in the sky at night, a quiet aquarium of light above the dark city. Desks were empty. The cleaning crew had gone. It was past eleven and he was the only one left. He liked that for once. He could pretend this building belonged to him.

Damien slammed into that spot again and Ethan bowed like he was being pulled on a string."Three."Ethan broke. He spilled over Damien’s fist. He spilled over the desk. His body seized and fluttered around Damien and dragged a curse out of him that Ethan had never heard in any meeting. Damien fucked him through it. He kept Ethan pinned upright by the wrists. He chased his own edge with sharp drives until he groaned into Ethan’s neck and shuddered and stilled.Silence. The building breathed. The city glittered for no one. Ethan could hear their heartbeats in the quiet. Damien’s grip loosened. He let go of Ethan’s wrists and cupped his jaw and turned his face for a kiss. This one was slower. It was not gentle. It was ownership written in tongue and teeth. Ethan opened and met it and took it.Damien eased out. He dealt with the condom. He cleaned his hand with the kind of neat care he brought to a contract. He ran a damp wipe over Ethan’s stomach and over the smear on the desk. He smooth

The office was quiet that night. Too quiet.Most of the staff had gone home, leaving only the hum of computers and the occasional creak of the building settling. Ethan sat at his desk, staring at the spreadsheets he hadn’t been able to focus on all day. His throat still burned, his lips were raw, and every time he swallowed he remembered the taste.He should’ve hated Damien more than ever. He should’ve walked out, handed in his badge, disappeared. But every time he thought of leaving, his body betrayed him. He remembered Damien’s hand gripping his throat, the roughness of his voice, the cruel satisfaction in his eyes as he used Ethan like he was nothing.And the worst part? Ethan had come in his pants while Damien humiliated him.The glass door to Damien’s office clicked open. Ethan flinched, head snapping up. Damien stood there in his shirtsleeves, jacket gone, tie loosened. His presence filled the room even though he didn’t raise his voice.“Conference room,” Damien said, and walked

The storm rattled the windows like it wanted in.Noah sat slouched on the hotel bed, shirt undone, tie hanging loose around his neck. He had a half-empty glass of whiskey on the nightstand, another untouched bottle waiting beside it. He was tired, bone-deep tired, but too wired to sleep. Business trips always left him like this—lonely, restless, full of thoughts he didn’t want to think.He hadn’t locked the door.The sound came quiet, the soft click of the handle, the muted thud of a shoe on carpet. He thought at first it was the storm, maybe the whiskey playing tricks on him, until the figure stepped fully inside.Noah jolted upright. “What the fuck—”The man shut the door behind him without a word. He leaned against it, watching Noah with eyes that glinted in the dim light. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, leather jacket still dripping rain. He didn’t look like a guest. He looked like trouble.“Who the hell are you?” Noah demanded, heart thudding.The man smirked. “You left the door unl