The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Finnegan

"Finish that sentence. I dare you."

Corn flower blue eyes flashed at me in the flickering lights of the elevator, burning with a fire that made my cock throb against my zipper.

She tilted her chin up, meeting my gaze without flinching. "Intolerable bastard,"

Fuck.

My hands flexed against the elevator wall on either side of her head. The urge to kiss that smart mouth, to swallow whatever other insults she had lined up, hit me square in the damned chest.

Her hair was different today. The dark strands were swept up in some kind of twist that exposed the elegant line of her neck. A few strands had come loose during the day, curling against her pale throat. My fingers itched to pull out whatever pins held it in place, to watch it tumble down around her shoulders, to fist my hands in it while those eyes rolled in her sockets and I made her scream.

Christ. That was not a thought to have about my employee.

"Are you itching to get fired, Miss Kellerman?" I hissed, leaning closer. My voice came out rougher than intended. Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip. The small movement sent heat straight to my groin.

"You will never find another assistant like me," I couldn’t for the life of me, tear my eyes off those full lips as she spoke.

"Do you want to bet?"

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, breasts straining against that sheer white blouse. She arched her back just slightly and the urge grew into full pulsing need, my cock straining painfully in my pants- I just wanted to taste that defiant mouth, would she bite my lips or surrender... or both.

"Maybe," she whispered, doing that thing with her tongue. "I rarely gamble Mr Wolfe, but when I do, I always win-"

The elevator slammed to a halt knocking me forward, my head hitting the damned elevator wall. I let out a curse and pushed off the wall, ready to slam the maintenance button when the lights cut out, darkness swelling around us.

"Shit! Not today Satan," My assistant gasped and my lips threatened to curl up.

"There’s no need to be melodramatic, the lights will come on...Miss Kellerman?"

Her gasping had intensified. She gave loud and shallow, rapid breaths and something smacked against me.

"Abigail?" I reached out blindly, trying to find her in the pitch black. My hand connected with her shoulder and she jerked violently.

She made a strangled, terrified sound. Her breathing got worse... was my assistant having a fucking panic attacks?

What the hell?

"Abigail." I tried to keep my voice calm, "breathe, the lights will come on-"

"Can’t...where’s the fucking switch, I can’t breathe," She choked out and something flared in my chest. I couldn’t have her passing out in the damned elevator. My hands found her arms in the darkness. She was shaking, no, scratch that she was trembling violently, her whole body vibrating.

"You can breathe. You are breathing." I pulled her closer, her soft full body that had been mere breaths away from mine some minutes ago, was now pressed up against every single fucking inch of me. My teeth gritted together when her hands clutched at my shirt, fingers digging in desperately.

She was having a full-blown panic attack.

"Shhh." I wrapped my arms around her, holding her against my chest. "I’ve got you,"

"Mom.... mom’s... there’s so much blood,"

She shook her head violently against me, still gasping for air. "Help me,"

"I’m helping you, breathe with me." I instructed breathing in and out, one hand pressed to the back of her head, the other around her waist. "Feel my chest and match your breathing to mine, Abigail... that’s it. Good girl,"

How long has it been? Thirty seconds? A minute? It felt like hours of torture in the suffocating darkness with her. It seemed a bit odd that my spitfire assistant would be weakened by what, the light going off? What triggered this? She mentioned her mom and something about so much blood?

My hands reached up to take out her hair out of the pins and deja vu hit me. They felt silky soft, they felt... familiar. I bit back a mirthless laugh at the thought. She was having a fucking panic attack and I thought her hair was familiar?

The lights flickered, She tensed against me, then they came fully on, the harsh fluorescent brightness flooding the elevator.

I blinked against the sudden glare. Abigail was pressed against my chest, face buried in my shirt, body still trembling. Her hair had come loose from the style she’d had it in, pins hanging at odd angles, dark strands falling around her face.

She pulled back slowly, staring at anywhere but me. I had to give it to her, most women would have cried their eyes out but despite the panic attack, there wasn’t a drop of tear on her pale face.

"Thank you, Mr Wolfe," She murmured, keeping her eyes on the elevator door as the elevator whirred back to life.

For a second she looked like she had when she had called me an intolerable bastard and the urge to mock her teased at my mind, but it got shot down when I noticed her legs shaking in the heels.

The elevator doors open. "Take the rest of the evening off," I grunted, stalking out of the box before I did something stupid.

Like grab her and press her against me again. In the light this time, where I could see those milky tits push against my chest as I punished that naughty mouth.

Fuck.

My phone pinged with a notification from the Sanctuary app, the private member forum just as I settled in my seat at the office , watching her gather her things into her bag through the glass wall between us.

"SANCTUARY ANNOUNCEMENT, " the notification read.

This Saturday theme—Lolita Corruption.

Dress Code: A classic suit for the men and the ladies, we want to see you in baby doll dresses, Prepare for a night of sin and corruption. Doors open at 10 PM.

My cock stirred just looking at the message. Perfect fucking timing. I needed this. I needed to burn off whatever the hell was building inside me every time I looked at Abigail Kellerman. What better way to do that than to fuck the edge off.

Maybe Aphrodite would be there. My dick lurched even harder and I dropped my hand giving it a squeeze through the pants. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.