Skye's POV

Fired.

On my first day.

I stood there staring at him like he had just slapped me across the face. My mind couldn't catch up. My legs felt like they were filled with sand‚ and my hands wouldn't stop shaking no matter how hard I pressed them together.

How? How could this be happening?

I hadn't even done anything wrong. Not really. I was late‚ yes‚ but it wasn't because I was careless or lazy. I had gotten here early. I had tried. The building was confusing and massive and nobody helped me find my way. That wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

And now he wanted me gone. Just like that.

Oh God. What was I going to tell Mom? What about Ethan? I had sat at that dinner table last night and smiled so wide my face hurt. I had bragged about the salary‚ about the offer‚ about how I was going to prove them all wrong. My brother had laughed — not in a mean way‚ but in that way that said he didn't really believe me. And Mom had smiled softly and told me she hoped it was real.

If I went home now‚ fired before I even started‚ they would never let me forget it.

"Sir... please—" I started‚ my voice cracking.

"Get out!" he snapped.

The sharpness of it hit me like a physical blow. I flinched and my feet moved before my brain could think. I was out of the boardroom and standing in the hallway before I even realized I had moved.

The door closed behind me with a heavy click.

I pressed my back against the wall and tried to breathe. My chest felt tight. Tears were already burning behind my eyes‚ but I blinked hard and refused to let them fall. Not here. Not where people could see me.

Think‚ Skye. Think.

Maybe it was because I didn't go through a proper interview. Maybe he thought I hadn't earned this position and that he could toss me out just as easily as I was brought in. Maybe he didn't even know who had hired me or why.

Or maybe he did know exactly who I was.

No.

That was impossible.

The last time Thorne saw me‚ I was fourteen years old‚ flat-chested‚ braces on my teeth‚ hair always in messy ponytails. There was no way he recognized me. I was a completely different person now.

Right?

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and started pacing. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Then twenty. People walked by and gave me strange looks‚ but I didn't care. I wasn't leaving. I couldn't.

Ten thousand dollars a month.

That number kept flashing in my head like a neon sign. No fresh graduate got that kind of money. Not in my field. Not anywhere. This was my one shot and I was not going to let it slip away because of one bad first impression.

Then the boardroom door opened and he walked out.

He moved like he owned every inch of this building‚ which he did. His stride was long and unhurried‚ his jaw set‚ his eyes straight ahead. He didn't even glance at me.

"Sir... sir!" I said quickly‚ rushing after him.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked without turning around. "Didn't I just fire you?"

"No‚ sir‚ you can't do that. Please just hear me out‚" I said‚ practically jogging to keep up with his pace. "I wasn't late on purpose. I got here an hour early but this building is huge and confusing and I got completely lost. It was my first day. I didn't know where anything was. Please‚ sir‚ just give me one chance."

"Leave my sight‚" he said calmly. He stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button.

"Sir‚ please. Please. I'm begging you."

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. He stepped inside without a word.

And I did something incredibly stupid.

I pushed myself in after him.

The doors closed behind us and suddenly the world shrank down to this tiny metal box. Just me and him. No one else. The air felt thick and warm and I could smell his cologne‚ something dark and expensive that made my head spin a little.

He stared at me. His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed slowly‚ like a predator deciding whether to play with its food or just finish it.

"Sir‚" I tried again‚ my voice barely above a whisper now.

Nothing.

"Sir‚ please—"

"You've not only disobeyed my direct order to leave after I fired you‚" he said slowly‚ each word deliberate and heavy‚ "but you also had the nerve to step into my private elevator?"

My stomach dropped. Private elevator. Executive elevator. That was why no one else was here. That was why it felt so quiet‚ so isolated. I was such an idiot.

"I—I didn't know it was private. I'm sorry‚ I just—"

"You just what?" He turned his full body toward me and I instinctively stepped backward until my back hit the cold elevator wall. He didn't follow‚ but the way he looked at me made the space between us feel like nothing. "You just thought the rules didn't apply to you?"

"No‚ that's not what I—"

"First you show up late. Then you waste my time in a meeting you contributed nothing to. Then you ignore a direct order to leave. And now you're standing in my private elevator uninvited." He paused. "Tell me‚ Ms. Latecomer. What exactly should I do with you?"

The way he said those words made something dangerous curl low in my stomach.

"Give me another chance‚" I whispered. "That's all I'm asking."

"You're not in a position to ask for anything."

"Then what do you want me to do?" My voice broke slightly. "I'll do anything to keep this job."

Something shifted in his expression. Something dangerous.

"Anything?" he asked quietly.

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

He didn't respond right away. He just looked at me. And then he moved.

One step. That was all it took. One single step and suddenly he was right there‚ so close that the heat from his body pressed against mine through the thin fabric of my blouse. His hand came up and landed flat against the elevator wall right next to my head. Then the other hand did the same on the opposite side.

Caged.

I was completely caged between his arms and the wall and there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to look except straight up into those deep blue eyes that were boring into me like he could see every thought running through my head.

My breathing changed. I couldn't help it. Short‚ shallow breaths that made my chest rise and fall too fast. I could feel my heart slamming against my ribs so hard that I was sure he could hear it. My thighs pressed together on instinct‚ squeezing tight‚ and I didn't even understand why my body was reacting like this. I was scared. I was supposed to be scared. But the heat pooling low in my belly wasn't fear.

It wasn't fear at all.

"You said anything‚" he said‚ his voice dropping lower. "Did you mean that?"

"I..." My voice came out as a breath. "Yes."

He leaned in closer‚ close enough that I could feel his breath against my forehead. Close enough that if I tilted my chin up even slightly‚ my lips would brush against his jaw.

My thighs squeezed tighter. A pulse throbbed between my legs‚ and I pressed my knees together harder trying to make it stop. It didn't stop. It got worse.

"Look at me‚" he said.

I raised my eyes to his. My chest was heaving now‚ each breath pushing my breasts closer to his chest without quite touching. The air between us felt electric‚ like if either of us moved even an inch‚ something would catch fire.

"You're going to do exactly what I tell you‚" he said. His voice was calm but there was something underneath it. Something barely restrained that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "And you're not going to argue. Understood?"

My brain screamed at me to say no. To duck under his arm and press the button and get out of this elevator and never come back. But my body wouldn't listen. My body was burning everywhere his shadow touched me‚ and my lungs couldn't seem to pull in enough air‚ and my thighs were clenched so tight together that the ache between them was becoming impossible to ignore.

"Yes‚" I breathed.

"Yes what?"

"Yes‚ sir."

Something dark flashed across his face when I said it. His jaw tightened. His eyes dropped to my mouth and stayed there for a long‚ agonizing second. Then one of his hands left the wall.

His fingers found my chin first. Tilting it up gently. Then his thumb moved‚ slow and deliberate‚ tracing along my jaw‚ down to the corner of my mouth. My lips parted on their own. A small‚ shaky exhale escaped me that sounded way too close to a moan.

His thumb dragged across my bottom lip. Slow. Pressing down just enough to pull it open slightly before releasing it. The touch was so light it was almost nothing‚ but my entire body reacted like he had kissed me. Heat rushed to my face‚ my neck‚ my chest. My nipples tightened against the lace of my bra‚ and I prayed he couldn't see them through my blouse.

He could. His eyes flickered down for half a second‚ and when they came back up‚ they were darker than before.

"I want you to show me‚" he whispered‚ leaning in so close that his lips brushed against my ear. His breath was warm and slow against my skin and every nerve ending in my body lit up at once. "What you're willing to give to stay."

My whole body trembled. My breathing was ragged now‚ embarrassingly loud in the silence of the elevator. I squeezed my thighs together so hard that the friction sent a small wave of pleasure through me‚ and I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.

"W—what do you mean?" I managed.

His hand slid from my face down to my neck‚ his fingers warm against my pulse point where my heart was hammering out of control. Then lower. His fingertips trailed down my collarbone and stopped at the top button of my blouse. One finger hooked underneath the fabric‚ barely grazing the skin beneath‚ and the contact made me gasp out loud.

"I think you know exactly what I mean."

3

Skye's POV

"I... here?" I whispered.

He tilted his head slightly. "Where else?"

I stared at him and he stared back. He wasn't going to explain. He wasn't going to spell it out. He was going to stand there and watch me figure it out on my own.

My fingers moved to my blouse before my brain gave them permission.

The first button came undone. My hands were shaking so badly I almost couldn't grip the second one.

He didn't move or speak. He just watched me with those dark blue eyes like he had all the time in the world.

Second button. Third. Fourth.

The fabric parted and my white lace bra came into view. My chest was heaving‚ pushing against the thin lace with every breath‚ and the cool air of the elevator hit my exposed skin like ice water.

Fifth button. The blouse hung completely open now‚ framing my body like curtains pulled apart.

I reached for the clasp of my bra.

"Stop."

I froze.

"Is that what I asked you for?" he said quietly.

"I... I thought you wanted me to—"

"I said show me what you're willing to give. I didn't tell you to undress."

The embarrassment hit me like a truck. He didn't even ask me to strip. I had just started taking off my clothes in his elevator like some kind of — oh God.

My hands flew to my blouse‚ grabbing both sides‚ trying to button it back up‚ trying to undo the last two minutes of my life.

His hand caught my wrist before I could fasten a single button.

"Did I tell you to button up?"

"But you just said—"

"I said stop. I didn't say cover up."

He pinned both my wrists above my head with one hand‚ pressing them firmly against the elevator wall. My back was flat against cold steel‚ my blouse hanging open‚ my chest heaving in thin white lace just inches from his body.

Then he leaned in close‚ so close that his lips nearly brushed the shell of my ear.

"This is a company‚ Miss. Not a strip club." His breath was warm against my skin. "What kind of secretary walks into her CEO's private elevator and starts undressing without being asked?"

The words landed like a slap across my face. I shoved against his chest as hard as I could.

He didn't budge. Not even an inch.

"Let go of me. I'm buttoning up and I'm leaving. This was a mistake—"

"You can't close up after showing me all this."

His free hand traced along the edge of my bra‚ featherlight and barely there‚ following the curve of lace across the top of my breast. My breath hitched despite everything I was telling myself to feel.

"You opened yourself up for me‚" he murmured. "On your own. Nobody forced your hand. You wanted me to see you."

"That's not what happened. You told me to show you what I was willing to give and I misunderstood. Now let me go."

I didn't want him to let me go.

His fingers hooked under the center of my bra and shoved it upward in one rough motion. The lace scraped over my nipples as it went and then my breasts fell free‚ bare and exposed‚ my nipples already stiff and aching from the friction.

I gasped and tried to pull my hands down‚ but his grip held me firmly in place and his mouth closed over my left nipple.

"Oh my God—"

Every thought in my head went white.

His lips were hot and firm and he sucked hard enough to make my back arch completely off the wall. A moan ripped out of me before I could catch it‚ loud and shameless in the small space. His tongue circled the peak‚ flicked against it‚ then he sucked again‚ deeper this time‚ pulling the sensitive flesh into the wet heat of his mouth.

"Oh God — Thorne—"

He stopped. His mouth lifted from my breast and the cold air hit my wet‚ swollen nipple like a shock.

"It's Mr. Anderson to you‚ Miss. Not Thorne."

I felt so embarrassed‚ but it was true. Why was I calling him by his first name when he didn't know who I was? I was nothing but a stranger to him.

To him‚ I was just Ms. Latecomer. A complete stranger who had gotten a job as his secretary and was now willing to do anything to keep her job.

"I'm sorry‚" I whispered. "Mr. Anderson."

His mouth found my other nipple before I even finished the sentence. He sucked hard‚ his teeth grazing the peak‚ his tongue swirling around it in slow‚ deliberate circles. My knees buckled beneath me and his body pressed harder against mine‚ holding me upright while his mouth moved between my breasts‚ licking and sucking and biting until I couldn't tell where one sensation ended and the next began.

"Oh my God—" I gasped‚ even as my back arched deeper into his mouth. "Please — stop—"

He released my nipple with a soft‚ wet sound that echoed through the elevator. "Then why are you pressing yourself into my mouth if you want me to stop?"

I had no answer for that. Because he was right.

His free hand slid down my stomach‚ past my navel‚ all the way down to the hem of my pencil skirt. His fingers gripped the fabric and pushed it up‚ bunching it roughly around my hips until my thighs and the white lace panties between them were completely exposed.

"Spread your legs‚" he said.

"W—what?"

"Did I stutter?"

My thighs were pressed together and trembling.

"I can't. This is — we shouldn't be—"

*Open your legs‚ Skye. You know you want to. You've wanted to since the moment you stepped into this elevator. Stop pretending.*

"You can." His hand came to rest on my inner thigh‚ warm and impossibly heavy. "Open."

My breath shuddered out of me. Slowly‚ shaking‚ I shifted my feet apart.

His fingers slid up my inner thigh to the edge of my panties‚ and one finger traced along the lace‚ right along the crease where fabric met skin. My hips jerked toward his touch before I could stop them.

"So responsive‚" he murmured‚ almost to himself.

"Please—" I breathed‚ and my hips rolled toward his hand again.

His hand slipped inside my panties‚ and he pushed one finger inside me. I gasped so hard I choked on the air. My eyes flew wide open‚ locked directly on his face‚ my mouth hanging open in a silent scream. His finger was buried inside the most intimate part of me‚ a part that no one had ever touched except me‚ and the slickness that greeted him was undeniable‚ humiliating‚ and completely obvious.

Then he smirked.

"Soaking through your pretty little panties and I've barely even started." His finger pushed deeper. "Such a desperate‚ dripping wet little pussy‚ Skye."

Skye?

He... He knew who I was?

4

Skye's POV

He knew my name.

"You knew me‚" I choked out‚ my nails clawing into the fabric of his suit jacket. "This whole time you stood there and pretended you didn't know who I was—"

His finger thrust inside me again.

The gasp that tore from my throat was so sharp it bounced off every steel wall of the elevator and came back to me like a slap. My mouth fell open‚ my spine arched‚ and my hands gripped his shoulders so hard my knuckles turned white.

"Still talking?" he murmured‚ his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

"You— you have no right to— nngh—"

He curled his finger against a spot inside me that made my entire body seize. My knees gave out and he slammed his hips forward‚ pinning me harder against the wall‚ his thigh between mine‚ holding me up with nothing but the weight of his body and the finger buried inside me.

"You played me‚" I gasped. "You made me call you Mr. Anderson when you knew — you knew the whole time—"

"And you unbuttoned your blouse for a man you thought was a stranger." He pulled his finger out slowly‚ dragging it along my inner walls‚ then pushed back in‚ deeper than before. "Which one of us should be more embarrassed?"

I had nothing to say to that. Because he was right. And because his finger was so deep inside me I couldn't form words anymore.

He added a second finger.

My body went rigid. The stretch was sudden and full and overwhelming‚ and the sound I made was something between a moan and a scream that I would never be able to unhear.

"That's it‚" he said quietly. "Take both of them."

"It's too much—"

"It's not enough." He pushed both fingers all the way in and held them there‚ buried to the knuckle‚ and I could feel my own heartbeat pulsing around him. "And we both know it."

He pulled his fingers back slowly‚ letting me feel every inch of them dragging against my walls‚ and then pushed them back in with a deliberate‚ controlled thrust that made my hips jerk forward to meet him. Out. In. Out. In. Each stroke deeper than the last‚ each one finding that spot inside me and pressing against it until my thighs were trembling and my head fell back against the steel wall.

His eyes never left my face.

That was the part that undid me. The way he watched me. Those dark blue eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that felt like being held down‚ like being stripped open far more completely than any unbuttoned blouse could manage. He watched every twitch of my expression‚ every flutter of my eyelids‚ every time my lips parted around a gasp I couldn't swallow. He studied me like he was memorizing what I looked like when I fell apart.

And I was falling apart.

"Look at me‚" he said‚ and I realized my eyes had drifted shut. I forced them open and met his gaze and the raw hunger staring back at me made my walls clench so tight around his fingers that he exhaled hard through his nose.

"There she is." His thumb found my clit and pressed down in a slow‚ firm circle‚ and my entire body jolted like a current had passed through me. "Keep your eyes on me‚ Skye. I want to watch you feel every single thing I'm doing to you."

His fingers pumped faster. The wet‚ slick sounds of him moving inside me filled the elevator‚ obscene and rhythmic and unmistakable‚ and each thrust was punctuated by the soft‚ helpless moans falling from my mouth that I had completely given up trying to suppress.

Because I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't say stop when my hips were grinding down on his hand with every stroke. I couldn't say I don't want this when my fingers were tangled in his hair‚ pulling him closer. I couldn't say no when every nerve ending in my body was screaming yes so loudly it drowned out every thought in my head.

His free hand grabbed my breast‚ rough and possessive‚ kneading the bare flesh‚ his thumb rolling hard over my stiff nipple‚ and his mouth dropped to the other one‚ his tongue dragging a hot‚ wet circle around the peak before sucking it between his lips.

"Oh God—" My voice broke into a moan so loud it startled even me. My back arched completely off the wall‚ pushing my breast deeper into his mouth‚ and his fingers drove into me harder‚ faster‚ his palm grinding against my clit with every thrust.

He released my nipple and lifted his head‚ and his eyes found mine again‚ dark‚ burning‚ completely fixed on me‚ and he didn't look away as his fingers curled deep inside me and his thumb pressed circles into my clit that made my vision swim.

"Does your brother know‚" he murmured‚ his voice low and wrecked‚ his fingers still pumping into me in slow‚ devastating strokes‚ "that his worst enemy has his fingers buried inside his little sister's dripping wet pussy right now?"

A broken whimper escaped me.

"No‚" I gasped‚ grinding down on his hand‚ chasing the pressure of his palm against my clit. "He can never know — oh God — he can never find out—"

He curled his fingers deeper and hit a spot inside me that made my words dissolve into a scream.

"Good girl‚" he whispered. "This stays between us. Okay?"

"Yes — yes — nngh—"

His pace turned relentless. His fingers pumping in and out with a rhythm that made the wet‚ filthy sounds grow louder‚ echoing off the steel walls of the elevator until it was the only thing I could hear‚ that and my own shameless moans‚ rising higher with every thrust‚ and the low grunts he let slip against my neck that told me he wasn't nearly as unaffected as he wanted me to believe.

His mouth found my breast again‚ sucking hard‚ teeth grazing‚ tongue swirling‚ and his hand squeezed the other one roughly‚ kneading and rolling my nipple between his fingers‚ and the combination of his mouth on one breast and his hand on the other and his fingers buried deep inside me was so overwhelming that my body began to shake.

"Something's happening‚" I gasped‚ my fingers gripping his hair so hard he groaned against my skin. "I'm — oh God — I'm going to—"

"I can feel it." His voice was rough and strained‚ his breath hot against my breast. "You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight‚ Skye."

"I can't hold it — please — I'm right there—"

"Are you going to come on my fingers?" He lifted his head and his eyes locked onto mine one final time‚ dark and burning and utterly devastating. "Are you going to come all over my hand like a good girl?"

"Yes — yes — please — I'm right there — don't stop — please don't stop—"

He pulled out.

Both fingers. Gone.

The emptiness hit me like a physical blow. My hips bucked against nothing‚ my walls clenching around air‚ and the orgasm that had been right there‚ right at the peak‚ crumbled and dissolved into a throbbing‚ aching void that pulsed between my legs like a second heartbeat with nowhere to go.

"No!" The word ripped out of me raw and desperate and I didn't even care how I sounded anymore. "Why did you — bring them back — please—"

He stepped back.

I almost collapsed. My legs were shaking so violently I had to press both palms flat against the wall just to stay upright. I stared at him‚ wrecked‚ panting‚ my bra shoved above my bare breasts‚ my skirt bunched at my hips‚ mascara smudged‚ my thighs slick and trembling while he looked unaffected.

He raised his hand slowly. Both fingers glistened under the elevator light‚ coated in me‚ and he slid them into his mouth one at a time‚ his eyes locked on mine‚ his tongue dragging along each finger from base to tip.

"Just as sweet as I knew you'd be."

He straightened his tie with slow‚ precise movements‚ then adjusted his cuffs‚ smoothing everything back into place like nothing had just happened‚ like he hadn't just taken me apart with two fingers and left me shaking against his elevator wall.

"Fix yourself‚" he said.

My throat tightened. "You can't just—"

"Now‚ Skye."

I pulled my bra back into place with trembling hands‚ fumbled with the hooks‚ then started on my blouse‚ missing a button‚ going back‚ trying again‚ my fingers so unsteady I could barely grip the fabric. I tugged my skirt down over my hips. Everything felt wrong‚ crooked‚ twisted‚ like I was trying to put back together something that had been permanently rearranged.

But I did it. I fixed myself while he stood there watching with a gaze so detached I might as well have been a painting hung slightly crooked on a wall.

The elevator dinged.

The doors slid open to the harsh fluorescent brightness of the parking garage. Not his office. Not the floor where I was supposed to start working. The parking garage.

"Get out."

"The job‚" I said‚ my voice completely wrecked. "You said — you said if I showed you—"

He looked at me one last time. His eyes traced down my body and back up‚ cold and flat and utterly empty‚ as though the man who had just groaned against my neck and called me good girl had never existed.

"I never said showing me your body meant getting your job back."

"W—what?"

"And Skye‚ that wasn't what I meant when I asked you that question. You assumed." His voice was flat‚ bored almost‚ like he was correcting a typo in an email. "You walked into my elevator‚ took off your own clothes‚ spread your legs on your own‚ begged me not to stop with your own mouth‚ and now you want to act like I owed you something in return?" He adjusted his cuff one final time without looking at me. "Nobody forced you‚ Skye. You gave it away for free."

The elevator doors began to close.

"Your services are no longer required. Get out."