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In The Judge's Bed

About

"I'm just his secretary in public-a quiet, professional woman who obeys the rules. But behind closed doors, I am so much more. I am his obsession, his mistress, and his only possession. Conley Davids, the untouchable CEO and high court judge, holds all the power, yet he craves me with a ferocity that leaves me breathless, trembling, and desperate for more. Every touch is electric, every whisper forbidden, and every stolen moment a dangerous game we play in the shadows. In the office, we are untouchable professionals; in his bed, we are consumed by a raw, unrelenting passion. The stakes are high-one slip, one discovery, and everything we've built will shatter. But desire is stronger than caution, and I am powerless to resist him. My body, my mind, my very soul belong to him... and the closer we get, the more we risk everything for the ecstasy only he can give me.

Chapter 1 In His Bed

I gripped his back and shouted Daddy as he hit my most sensitive spot, every nerve in my body igniting in a blaze of pleasure. Paradise. Pure, raw, blinding paradise. My fingers dug into the soft curve of his shoulders as he drove harder, faster, his control absolute, his presence overwhelming.

I am the secretary of Conley Davids-the untouchable CEO of MyAlly's Group of Elites, a high court judge whose every decision shaped lives. In public, I was professional, reserved, almost invisible. But here, in the privacy of his penthouse bedroom, all rules were broken, all boundaries dissolved. I was his. His mistress, his secret, his only possession.

He shifted me, rolling me onto my back, his lips pressing against my throat, nipping, sucking, marking me as his own. My breath caught in ragged gasps, my back arching instinctively toward him, desperate for every inch of him.

"Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice deep, rough with desire. "Every inch of you is mine."

"Yes... please, Daddy..." I begged, every syllable dripping with need. My body shivered under his hands, under the insistence of his touch, under the weight of his dominance.

His hands roamed over me with deliberate cruelty, teasing, tormenting, pulling me to the edge of sensation again and again. My hips lifted involuntarily, pressing into him, craving more, needing more. He chuckled low, dark, and it vibrated through me.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked, voice husky, as his fingers found my most sensitive spot again. "You love when I take control."

"Yes! I... I love it, Daddy!" I gasped, writhing beneath him, every nerve screaming for release, every thought consumed by him.

He smiled at my desperation, the glint in his eyes sharp and possessive. He leaned closer, lips brushing against mine in a whisper of a kiss that left me trembling. "You're mine, always. Understand?"

"I'm yours," I whispered back, words barely audible through my gasps and moans. "Completely yours."

He didn't answer with words. He let his hands and body speak. Each movement was deliberate, each touch a reminder of ownership, of power, of desire. My nails clawed at his back as he drove me closer to the edge, faster, harder, unrelenting.

I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe properly. All I could feel was him, the pleasure, the ache, the fire spreading from my core outward, consuming me completely. My toes curled, legs trembling, and he shifted again, rolling me onto my stomach this time, whispering threats that promised nothing but ecstasy.

"Don't even think about escaping," he murmured in my ear. "You're mine. Every inch. Every sound. Every shiver."

"Yes, Daddy..." I moaned, letting him guide me, dominate me, control me utterly. My body betrayed me, trembling, quivering, begging, desperate for him to claim me fully.

He gripped me tighter, hands and lips and body all claiming, marking, dominating. Every thrust, every movement was precise, deliberate, designed to break me and build me at the same time. I lost track of time, of space, of thought. There was only sensation. Only him. Only us.

My cries filled the room, echoing off the walls, joining the rhythm of our bodies. Each one was a confession, a surrender, a declaration. He responded with grunts and growls, each one sending shivers through me, making me crave him even more.

And then he paused, just for a heartbeat, pulling me into his chest. I gasped, clinging to him, my face buried in his neck. "You're incredible," he whispered. "So perfect. So mine."

I shivered, heat radiating through me, my entire body humming with need. "I'm yours, Daddy... please don't stop..."

He smiled, low and dark, and then, without warning, he claimed me again, harder, faster, his movements almost violent in their intensity. My world contracted to the feel of him inside me, the sound of our bodies colliding, the fire building, unrelenting, unstoppable.

Time ceased to exist. Minutes, hours-who knew? All I knew was pleasure, hunger, the need to give myself completely, utterly, to him. My hands gripped the sheets, my nails tearing slightly, but I didn't care. Every nerve, every muscle, every thought belonged to him.

And when the first wave of release hit me, it was overwhelming. Shocking. Blinding. My body shook violently, and I screamed his name into the silence, my chest pressed against his, my lips grazing his neck, my eyes closing in ecstasy.

He groaned in response, powerful, possessive, and I felt him shudder as well, a deep, almost animalistic pleasure. He collapsed atop me, holding me tight, our breaths mingling, our hearts racing in perfect, chaotic rhythm.

For a long moment, we stayed like that-entwined, spent, yet craving more. His lips brushed my temple, his voice low and intimate. "You're mine, always. No one else. Never anyone else."

I shivered, letting the words sink into my soul. "I'm yours... completely."

Even as our bodies stilled, the fire between us remained, smoldering, dangerous, irresistible. I had no illusions about the world outside these walls-there, we were professional, controlled, untouchable. Here, in this sanctuary of lust and obsession, we were raw, unrestrained, and utterly consumed by each other.

I gasped again as he shifted slightly, teasing me with a hand, brushing against me just enough to reignite the fire. My knees buckled beneath me, every nerve alert, craving, desperate. "Please... Daddy..."

He chuckled, dark and low. "That's my girl," he whispered, moving with a precision and dominance that left me trembling. "Always mine. Always needing me."

I clutched him tighter, lips pressing to his shoulder, teeth grazing skin, moaning, shivering, trembling. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch was another thread binding me to him, another confirmation that I belonged to him in every sense.

Hours could have passed. Minutes could have passed. Time didn't exist. Only us. Only the fire. Only the undeniable, unrelenting pleasure.

And when it ended-finally, finally-I was spent, trembling, utterly broken and rebuilt all at once. His arms wrapped around me, strong, protective, possessive. My cheek pressed against his chest, and I let myself simply exist in the afterglow, knowing with absolute certainty that I was his. Completely. Irrevocably.

"Mine," he murmured again, a whisper that lingered in my ears long after his body relaxed.

"Yes... yours," I breathed, my lips curling into a smile, my body still tingling, my heart still racing. "Always yours."

And in that room, with the world shut out, the rules forgotten, and only fire and desire left, we were exactly what we were meant to be:

Two bodies, one passion, bound by lust, obsession, and an unbreakable claim.

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