Desiring Her

I remember that day, the day when I regretted being so flirtatious. Every time I was alone, thoughts of it consumed me, and I found myself searching for that person. Well, it wasn't entirely because I was naturally flirtatious. Can I really be held accountable if my personality leads me to seek him out?

Oh, when I was young, I constantly reassured myself that I would only give my virginity to the person I loved, saving it for marriage and an intimate honeymoon. But what went wrong?

And then it happened—I gave it to someone I knew was also flirtatious and experienced with women. I'm well aware of his reputation, but for some reason, I felt fortunate that he was the first man to share that moment with me. Thank you~

It's embarrassing because my friends often label me as another Maria Clara, and unfortunately, there's some truth to it. However, it's time to let go.

My private life is just that—private. I don't need to declare "I've finally given in." Who cares if others find out? It's my life, and their opinions no longer matter.

As long as it's me, the world seems chaotic because of that man.

"Monic, Sir Zack is calling you," Marinel said, interrupting my thoughts. I looked at her intently.

Zack Bray Moore stands as one of the most formidable figures in the business world. It seems that no project eludes his grasp; his strategic thinking consistently breeds success. Beyond his professional prowess, his striking handsomeness captures the attention and hearts of many. His physique is envy-inducing, as if he were a divine gift. His captivating eyes hold an almost hypnotic quality, capable of transfixing anyone who gazes upon them. Added to his allure is immense wealth, an air of mystery, and a reputation as a Casanova. Even amid his seriousness, he somehow finds time to court women. Meanwhile, I serve as his secretary, burdened by the daily strain of his demanding work and words.

"Marinel, it's only 7:10 am, and I'm already being summoned," I sighed, fatigued from the extensive walking we undertook yesterday. It felt as though we traversed a multitude of destinations, yet in reality, we spent only thirty minutes in another international location. The whole ordeal was disorienting, compounded by boarding his private plane. He appeared to take delight in my struggles; a satisfaction I'd gladly withhold if he weren't my boss.

Marinel grinned, replying, "I'm just following orders," as if finding amusement in my predicament.

"Please, tell him I'm occupied," I pleaded, attempting to muster puppy-dog eyes.

"But, Monic, you know he won't wait for you to call back," Marinel responded, causing me to close my eyes and stomp in annoyance.

"I understand, I'll be there shortly," I acquiesced, my irritation evident.

"Go on, hurry up," she encouraged, to which I nodded. What more did he require?

Is there no respite in life? Must work begin at the crack of dawn?

After preparing, I promptly made my way to his office.

"Why, boss, are we off to yet another international conference meeting?" I quipped, infusing a sarcastic tone. His handsomeness had a tendency to distract, though I feigned indifference.

Had the circumstances been different, my feelings towards him wouldn't be tainted. Amid a world teeming with men, he stands as the heavenly exception.

Fine, I'll confess it—there's more to the story. He, that man, the one I met while intoxicated, lingers in my mind. However, it's vital to acknowledge that during that encounter, I remained steadfastly myself. His actions, particularly his caresses and passionate kisses, caused a stir. It's possible that his allure affects every woman, but I refuse to cower. It's him who should feel apprehensive, not me. After all, I am a woman, and he's the one responsible. He ought to bear the guilt for crossing that boundary.

"Well, I simply miss you," I admitted while seated on his sofa. He proceeded to close the windows and lock the door, leaving me inquisitive.

"Boss, what's going on?" I questioned, a hint of nervousness in my voice.

"Do you not remember anything?" he inquired, drawing closer. His demeanor seemed akin to a runway model, showcasing his striking handsomeness. I shook my head, gazing at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Amid this uncertainty, one thing remains clear: I have no intention of repeating past mistakes. Regret lingers, and I don't wish to become another discarded name on his list of transient companions. Thus, I summon the courage to confront him.

"Boss, there's something I must tell you," I stated, noticing his triumphant smile.

"What is it?"

"Can you recall where we are? In the office?" I pressed.

"Yes?" he responded, a smile dancing on his lips.

"Boss, put an end to this. The last time was a mistake, driven by alcohol-induced recklessness. Spare my virginity," I spoke with an air of determination.

"Come now, you're partly responsible for this situation. Look," he said, gesturing toward his eyes.

"I've gone days without sleep, tormented by thoughts of that night. And you vanished, leaving me in a state of turmoil. Who wouldn't go mad?" I rolled my eyes, then playfully squeezed his nose.

"Put a stop to this. Why should we continue? I refuse to make another misstep. Indeed, I'm reserving myself for my Mr. Right," I declared, promptly standing and leaving his office. Marinel approached me, her presence pulling me back to reality.

"Are you okay?" she asked, observing my anger. If only that person understood the pain he'd caused me. Of course, I was hurting—how could I not be? Waking up the next morning, everything shattered, and he lay there soundly sleeping, oblivious to the wreckage he left behind. I didn't even know if he had a girlfriend or a wife. I, his secretary, was left to clean up the mess he created, disgusted with myself.

"I'm fine," I replied, making my way to my office and slumping onto the sofa. Frustration engulfed me, leading me to fall to the floor. What did he think of me? Just because I had shared an intimate moment with him, did he believe he could take liberties? Yet, we were not together. Our relationship remained confined to CEO and secretary. I closed my eyes as the sound of someone entering the room reached my ears, seeking solace from the turmoil within.

"Marinel, I'm tired. Please place whatever the boss needs on the table," I instructed. Marinel, one of my assistant secretaries, remained a constant reminder of a chapter that had only recently concluded. The memories still painfully fresh, the hurt remained raw. It felt as though I had been crushed beneath the weight of five trucks.

As I sat in silence, a hand suddenly intruded under my skirt. Swiftly, I pushed it away and turned to face the intruder.

My heart raced as I was met with Zack's presence.

"You can't leave me like that, Monic. I pursue what I want," he declared, a hint of anger tinging his words. His demeanor seemed to treat me like an object, a mere possession to acquire.

"Boss, this is completely wrong. Stop—wait! Don't do that. We're in the office," I protested, biting my lip in discomfort as he continued his advances. I tried to push him away, resisting his efforts.

"What's wrong with you? This isn't right. Ah, please, don't undress me. We're in the office," I exclaimed, halting his actions. Yet, his strength overpowered my protests.

"I don't care, Monic. Among all the girls, you're the one who torments me. You've cast a spell on me," he remarked, a smile gracing his lips as he placed my panties atop his head. Here I was, exposed, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

"Zack, won't you stop this?" I demanded, my tone reflecting my annoyance. Miraculously, his demeanor softened, his conscience perhaps awakening to his actions. His hand tenderly caressed my face as he leaned in, his lips finding mine. It was as if he was taming me, soothing my unease.

"Babe, please. Give in," he implored, his eyes reflecting a plea as he kissed me again. Resigned, I relented. What else could I do? Vulnerable and fragile, a tender surrender awaited. If he continued this sweetness, he would surely earn my affection. The panties on his head only added a whimsical touch to the absurdity of the situation, evoking another bout of laughter from me.

"Alright, but let's not linger here, Zack."

"Damn it, Monic. Call me Zack," he retorted, his annoyance evident as he prompted me to do away with formalities.

"Okay, Zack. But we shouldn't stay here. What if someone sees us? Can you imagine the rumors?" I inquired, suppressing a smile. He responded by biting his luscious lips, an alluring gesture that stoked my desire.

"I can't bear it any longer, babe. You've driven me mad for a week," he admitted, his hand finding mine as he led me towards the edge. My fiery resolve wavered under his passionate gaze.

"But it's against the rules," I whispered, my voice a mere murmur.

"Monic, this is my company. No one can stop me. I'll take care of you. Don't make a sound," he declared, his lips descending upon mine. A storm of desire raged within me, and I surrendered to the tempest of emotions. He guided me through a series of movements, removing his belt and pants with urgency.

His long sleeve was the next to be discarded, baring his chiseled physique. His gaze lingered upon me, and I reciprocated, taking in his beautiful body.

"Shall we continue this at home?" he proposed cheerfully, my blouse and bra meeting the same fate as his attire. He then pressed his lips against my skin, each touch electrifying.

"Zack, ahh," I sighed, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation coursing through me. The experience was unlike any other, a heady blend of emotions that left me yearning for more.

"Can I take the lead?" he asked, his enthusiasm evident. He removed my remaining clothing, leaving me exposed before him. His gaze lingered, and I felt a rush of vulnerability.

"Ah, Zack, let's proceed," I agreed, my voice a breathless whisper. We settled into a familiar embrace, his presence offering solace.

"Like it?" he inquired, his eyes locked onto mine. I nodded, a smile gracing my lips as I affirmed my satisfaction. He responded with a kiss, his lips molding to mine in a passionate dance.

"Let's intensify the pace, honey," I suggested, eager to explore the depths of our desires.

"Of course," he replied, his embrace tightening around me. We engaged in a fervent kiss, his hands expertly navigating my contours. His smile against my neck ignited a newfound fire within me.

"Damn it, babe. You're still so tight," he remarked, a mixture of awe and amusement evident in his voice. He tugged at my hair gently, further fueling the flames of passion. Each movement of his was a symphony of pleasure, an exquisite dance that left me craving more.

With every motion, every caress, he ignited my senses. Our lips met, fervent and insistent, a testament to the depths of our connection.

"Zack, I'm close," I whispered, the intensity building within me. He kissed me tenderly, his movements more deliberate, his touch more intense.

"Monic, I'm coming," he announced, his voice laden with urgency. Our lips met once more, our shared ecstasy igniting a cascade of emotions.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, we remained intertwined, our breaths in sync. His smile, a reflection of our shared intimacy, reassured me that the boundaries we crossed were worth it.

"Zack, are you done?" I whispered, my voice tinged with a mixture of contentment and curiosity.

He smiled, his gaze locking onto mine. "Not quite, baby," he replied, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Perhaps later," he continued, his playful tone causing me to chuckle. As we lay there, entwined and sated, I couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness. Despite the unconventional circumstances, I had found solace in his arms.

It was a chapter of our story that would continue, an unspoken promise of more to come.