Chapter 2 NO TURNING BACK

Alex's Pov

I stepped inside, and Damien closed the door behind me with a soft click that felt impossibly loud. The suite was all floor-to-ceiling windows and modern luxury, but I barely registered any of it. My entire focus was on the man standing too close, looking at me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve.

"Three months," he said quietly. "I told you things I've never told anyone."

"So did I." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "What now?"

"Now we stop pretending this is just online anymore." He set his phone down on the entrance table, never breaking eye contact. "I need to know if what we have translates here. In person. Without screens between us."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then we go back to professional colleagues on Monday and never speak of this again." His hand slid to the back of my neck, warm and possessive. "But I don't think that's going to happen. Do you?"

I should have said yes. Should have taken the exit he was offering. Instead, I closed the distance between us and kissed him.

The moment our lips met, everything ignited. This wasn't tentative or uncertain, this was three months of tension finally breaking free. Damien made a sound low in his throat and pulled me harder against him, his other hand gripping my hip. I'd imagined this, fantasized about it during our late-night conversations, but reality was so much better.

He tasted like expensive whiskey and desperation. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming and demanding, and I gave as good as I got. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.

"Alex." He broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Are you sure about this? Once we cross this line...."

"I crossed the line three months ago." I pulled him back down. "Stop thinking and kiss me."

He did, walking me backward until my legs hit the sofa. We fell onto it together, his weight pressing me into the cushions in the best way. His hands were everywhere, sliding under my shirt, tracing the muscles of my stomach, making me arch into his touch.

I yanked at his shirt buttons, clumsy with need. He pulled back just enough to strip it off completely, and I drank in the sight of him. Damien Cross, always so controlled at work, was looking at me with raw hunger in his eyes.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about this," he said roughly, his fingers working at my belt. "How many nights I touched myself thinking about you."

"Show me." I lifted my hips so he could pull my jeans down. "Show me what you wanted to do."

He groaned and yanked my pants off completely, then pressed hot kisses down my chest, my stomach, lower. When his mouth closed around me through my boxers, I nearly came apart right there.

"Damien...fuck...."

He pulled my boxers down and took me in his mouth properly, and coherent thought became impossible. His tongue was wicked, his mouth hot and perfect, and I grabbed at the sofa cushions to keep from thrusting up too hard. He took me deeper, hollowing his cheeks, and I couldn't hold back the sounds spilling from my lips.

"Wait.....stop...." I pulled at his shoulders. "I'm too close."

He released me with a wet sound, his lips swollen and eyes dark. "I want to taste you."

"Next time." I pulled him up and kissed him hard, tasting myself on his tongue. "Right now I need you inside me."

His control snapped. He stood and stripped off the rest of his clothes while I did the same, and then we were both naked, pressed together skin-to-skin. He was beautiful, all lean muscle and power barely contained.

"Bedroom," he said, but I shook my head.

"Here. Now. I've waited long enough."

He reached for his discarded pants and pulled out his wallet, retrieving a condom and lube. Smart man, coming prepared. He slicked his fingers and pressed one inside me, watching my face as I adjusted to the intrusion.

"More," I demanded, rocking back against his hand.

He added another finger, stretching me, finding that spot that made me see stars. I was writhing beneath him, begging without shame, and he looked like he was barely holding on to his composure.

"Please," I gasped. "Damien, please...."

He rolled on the condom and positioned himself, his eyes locked on mine. "Tell me you want this."

"I want this. I want you. Please....."

He pushed inside slowly, and we both groaned at the sensation. He was big, stretching me perfectly, filling me completely. He paused when he was fully seated, giving me time to adjust, his forehead pressed against mine.

"You feel incredible," he breathed.

"Move," I urged, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He did, pulling out and thrusting back in, setting a rhythm that had me clawing at his back. Every thrust hit exactly right, building pleasure that coiled tighter and tighter in my gut. He buried his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.

"Touch yourself," he commanded. "I want to feel you come around me."

I reached between us and stroked myself in time with his thrusts. It only took a few pulls before I was there, falling over the edge with his name on my lips. He followed moments later, his rhythm stuttering as he found his own release.

We stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin.

Finally, Damien pulled out carefully and disposed of the condom. When he came back, he pulled me against his chest, and we lay tangled together on the sofa.

"So," I said eventually. "What happens Monday morning when I walk into your office?"