Chapter Ten – The Taste of Power
The next work day…
The office was humming with its usual rhythm—phones ringing, keys clacking, the low drone of conversations spilling out from cubicles. But I wasn't listening. My heels tapped out a steady, deliberate rhythm as I made my way down the carpeted hallway toward Julian's office.
Every step I took was a decision. A declaration.
I didn't hesitate when I reached his glass door. One flick of the wrist, and I slipped inside, shutting it behind me before Elaine could look up from her desk.
The blinds rattled softly as I pulled them down, one by one, until the city's skyline framed the room but no one inside the firm could see what was about to happen. When I turned the lock, the click echoed in the still air like a promise.
Julian was on the phone, his voice firm, commanding as always. But the moment his eyes met mine—dark hazel flecked with that impossible green—his words faltered. I didn't look away. I let my stare catch him, hold him, drag him into the net I had been weaving since the day I decided I wasn't going to wait anymore.
He swallowed hard, throat flexing, gaze flicking to the blinds, the lock, then back to me. His hand tightened around the receiver.
"Elaine," he said slowly, his voice lower now, rougher. "No more calls for the rest of the day."
There was a pause on the line. Then a quiet, "Yes, sir."
He hung up without another word.
Silence bloomed between us, thick and charged.
I didn't waste it.
I slipped the blazer off my shoulders, letting it slide down to the floor. My blouse followed, one button after the other undone under his gaze, until the fabric was loose and spilling down my arms. He exhaled through his nose, sharp, like he was trying to ground himself, but his eyes betrayed him—hungry, locked on me.
"Amira…"
"It's time," I interrupted, my voice steady, sultry, commanding. I stepped closer, every sway of my hips deliberate. The daylight painted him in silver and gold where it filtered through the blinds. "It's time you ate something sweeter than that woman has ever given you."
His jaw clenched, and then it broke—his restraint, his careful mask. He pushed back from his desk, the leather of his chair groaning as he rose, but I was already there, crossing the distance, stripping away hesitation along with the last of my clothes.
He didn't resist. He didn't even breathe. He sank to his knees before me like a man undone.
The first touch of his lips was fire. My head fell back, fingers gripping the edge of his desk as the city blurred behind me. His mouth was reverent, then greedy, tracing me like I was something he had been starved for. Every brush of his tongue sent shivers clawing up my spine.
"Julian," I gasped, his name tasting like sin on my tongue.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me. His hands pressed into my thighs, holding me open, holding me captive as though he was afraid I might change my mind and vanish like smoke. But I wasn't going anywhere. Not now.
The rhythm built—hotter, faster, the desk cool beneath me, the blinds whispering against the windows. His mouth was relentless, consuming, praising. My body arched toward him, trembling with every wave that crested higher and higher until—
"Julian!"
The climax ripped through me, sharp and sweet, leaving me shaking, breathless, clinging to the edge of his desk as though the world might fall away.
He stayed there, breath warm against my skin, before finally lifting his head. His lips were damp, eyes blazing with something that was half-awe, half-possession.
And then—
The knock.
It thundered against the door, the handle rattling violently.
"Julian?" Cassandra's voice cut through the air, sharp, imperious, dripping suspicion. "Why is this door locked?"
My pulse skittered, but not from fear. From triumph.
I slipped my blouse back on, buttoning only half of it, letting the fabric hang loose. My hair was mussed, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. Perfect.
Julian was frozen, still catching his breath, his gaze fixed on me as though I had bewitched him. Maybe I had.
The knock came again, harder this time. "Julian!"
I smirked.
The lock clicked beneath my fingers, and I swung the door open. Cassandra stood there, flawless in her ivory silk dress, her mouth parting in shock as her eyes raked over me—my undone buttons, my flushed skin, the smug curve of my lips.
I leaned in just close enough for her to catch the glint in my eyes. Then I licked my lips slowly, deliberately, before murmuring, "He's already had lunch."
And I slipped past her, hips swaying, leaving her standing frozen in the doorway.
Her voice rose behind me, sharp with fury. "Why was the door locked, Julian?"
I giggled under my breath, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably, delight thick in my chest. Elaine glanced up from her desk, wide-eyed, but I only winked at her and whispered, "He can take calls now little mouse…!"
Then I walked on, the office buzzing alive with whispers before the hour had even struck noon.
And every step I took felt like victory.
Chapter Ten – Part Two: The Fallout
I barely had time to sip the victory from my smirk before I felt the air shift. Cassandra's heels clicked against the marble, that precise, cutting rhythm she always carried like a blade. She didn't storm right away. No—she let me feel it, that slow build of a storm gathering behind me.
By the time I reached my desk, she was there. Standing. Blocking the light with her slim figure, one hand clutching her designer bag like a gavel ready to sentence me.
Her perfume hit first—sharp jasmine, the kind that tries to choke the room into submission. Her eyes followed, cold and lethal, cutting across me with the kind of disdain only a woman who thought she owned the world could deliver.
"Stay away from my husband."
She didn't whisper it. She didn't shout it. She dropped it flat and heavy, like iron on concrete.
I tilted my head, leaning back in my chair. I didn't rise. I didn't cower. I let the silence stretch, my lips curving just enough to make her jaw tighten.
"Do I make myself clear?" she pressed, her teeth flashing like the edge of a blade.
I blinked, slow and unbothered. "Crystal."
The word rolled out of me smooth as silk, but my eyes told her the truth—I wasn't going anywhere.
Her glare deepened. If looks could burn, I'd be ash. But I just smirked back, letting the moment hang heavy between us. Then, with a stiff flick of her hair, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her heels cracking the floor like gunfire.
The entire office had gone still. Heads ducked, whispers hushed. Everyone had heard. Everyone had seen. And I knew by the time the clock struck one, the story would have grown legs, arms, and wings.
I sat back, crossing my legs with deliberate slowness, and exhaled a satisfied sigh.
That was when I saw her.
Tasha.
She peeked around the corner of a cubicle, her grin wide, her eyes lit up like a cat who'd found cream. She waited until Cassandra disappeared into Julian's office and the coast was clear before she sauntered over, slipping into the chair beside mine like she'd been waiting her whole life for this moment.
"Girl…" She dragged the word out like a melody. "You better start talking before I explode."
I pressed a finger to my lips, feigning innocence. "About what?"
"Don't play with me." She leaned in close, whispering fast. "Cassandra's face looked like she just walked in on the Last Supper. And you—" she gestured at me with both hands "—you look like dessert."
I chuckled low in my throat, enjoying the way her curiosity bubbled over. I let her stew for a second, tapping my pen against the desk. Then I leaned closer, my voice low, veiled, teasing.
"Let's just say…" My smile sharpened. "I gave him something to eat that he couldn't resist."
Tasha slapped her hand over her mouth, muffling her scream-laugh. "Amira!" she hissed, eyes wide. "You did not—"
I arched a brow. "Didn't I?"
Her whole body shook with suppressed laughter, and she had to grab my arm to steady herself. "Okay, okay—you're gonna tell me everything later. Wine, my place, no excuses."
"Mm." I clicked my pen closed, pretending to return to work while a grin tugged at my lips. "Later."
She gave me one more look—half-shocked, half-thrilled—before slipping away, still chuckling under her breath.
The moment she vanished, I leaned back in my chair and let the thrill pulse through me again. Cassandra's glare, Julian's surrender, Tasha's wide-eyed delight—it all swirled together into one intoxicating cocktail.
I wasn't afraid of the fallout. I was ready for it.
Because now the game wasn't just mine. The whole office was watching.
And I had no plans to lose.
Chapter Ten – Part Three: Clowns and Confessions
The office hadn't settled since Cassandra's exit. You could feel it in the way voices dropped when I passed, in the stolen glances, the nervous smirks. My name was already traveling faster than the clock hands could spin.
I was rereading an email when I felt it—that prickling sense of being watched. I lifted my gaze and caught Elaine standing three cubicles away, glaring at me like she'd swallowed a lemon.
She marched over, clutching a stack of papers too tightly, lips pressed thin as if she were about to deliver the closing argument of her life.
"You think you're all that, don't you?" she burst out, voice wobbling like she was trying to steady it but failing. "Walking around here like you own the place. Like you can do whatever you want."
I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms, letting a lazy smile tug at my lips. "Can't I? And aren't I, though?"
A couple of heads popped up from nearby cubicles, wide-eyed and pretending not to listen. Elaine's face flushed crimson.
"You—" she sputtered, trying to gather steam. "You might think you've got him wrapped around your little finger, but let's see what HR has to say about that!"
She slammed the papers down on my desk like she was delivering a subpoena. Then she turned on her heel, storming off with the grace of a duck in heels.
I chuckled, shaking my head. A clown. A loud, ridiculous clown.
But still—my smile lingered as I picked up the papers and stacked them neatly. Because underneath the comedy, there was a sharp edge. HR. That wasn't nothing. Elaine had my attention now.
The sun was already down when I finally closed my laptop. Most of the office had emptied, but a thin band of light still spilled from beneath Julian's blinds.
My heels clicked toward his door. I didn't knock. I didn't ask. I pushed it open and stepped inside, shutting it softly behind me.
The blinds were still drawn tight. He was at his desk, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, collar loosened. His head lifted when he saw me, and I knew in that instant he hadn't stopped thinking about me since noon.
Neither had I.
"You left me starving," he said hoarsely.
I smirked, closing the distance slowly, hips swaying. "Then let me finish feeding you."
He was out of his chair before the words even settled in the air. His hand gripped my waist, the other tangled in my hair, pulling me close. His mouth crushed mine, hot and demanding, as though he'd been drowning all day and I was air.
The desk became our battlefield again—papers scattering, his pen rolling to the floor as he lifted me onto the surface. My legs wrapped around him, pulling him in, closer, closer, until there was nothing but heat and breath and the sharp ache of wanting.
"Amira…" His voice cracked on my name.
I leaned back, tugging him down with me, lips grazing his ear. "Elaine threatened me today."
That snapped him for half a beat, his body stilling.
"She thinks she can run to HR," I whispered, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and I told her… you're the one who handles things here."
His grip tightened. His eyes blazed. "She said what?"
I kissed him hard, smirking against his lips. "I told her you'd put her in line."
The way he looked at me—like I'd just lit a match inside him—was intoxicating. He wasn't just enthralled; he was mine. Completely.
"I'll deal with her tomorrow," he growled, pressing me harder against the desk, his mouth trailing fire down my neck.
"Good." My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back down to me. "But tonight, you're going to finish what you started."
And he did. Thoroughly, mercilessly, with a hunger that left me breathless, shaking, undone. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue was an apology for stopping earlier, a vow that he would never leave me unsatisfied again.
When it was over, I was a mess of laughter and sighs, sprawled across his desk with his lips still on my skin. He looked ruined and revived all at once, hair mussed, shirt clinging to him, eyes locked on me like I was something he'd never let go.
Later that night, I curled into Tasha's couch, a glass of wine in my hand and a grin I couldn't wipe off if I tried.
She plopped down beside me, refilling her glass, eyes sharp with expectation. "Alright, spill. Start with Cassandra's death glare and end with why you look like you just stepped off a rollercoaster."
I laughed, sipping slow. "Cassandra came for me, of course. Tried to warn me off like she was doing me a favor. You should've seen her face."
Tasha cackled. "And you just sat there? Oh, I know you didn't bite your tongue."
I winked. "Told her everything was crystal clear."
Her laugh shook the couch. "Crystal? Girl, you're terrible."
"And Elaine," I added, rolling my eyes. "Came marching up like she was somebody. Tried to tell me I can't act like I do."
Tasha nearly spit her wine. "Not Elaine!"
"Mmhmm. I told her, 'Can't I? And aren't I, though?'"
Tasha doubled over, choking on laughter. "You're killing me. What'd she do?"
"Ran off, threatening HR. She doesn't even know the kind of trouble she just bought herself."
Tasha shook her head, wiping her eyes. "Oh, this office is gonna burn."
I leaned back, letting the stem of my glass twirl between my fingers. "It already is."
Her grin turned wicked. "So, what about Julian? Don't think you're sliding past that."
I took another sip, savoring the wine. Then I lowered my voice, sly, teasing. "Let's just say… the man's tongue game? Out of this world."
Tasha slapped my arm, shrieking. "Amira! You're gonna get me in trouble with my neighbors!"
We laughed until the walls shook, until the wine was gone, until my stomach hurt and my cheeks ached from smiling.
And even when the laughter quieted, I could still feel him. On my skin. Inside of me…
Julian Archer. My boss. My obsession. My undoing.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow he'd put Elaine in her place.
All I had to do was wait.