Chapter 5 FIVE

The office was completely empty. The hallway silent and devoid of any living creature. Only Teresa was around. Lurking in the shadows like a thief.The soft hum of the florescent lights of New York City were the only things that kept Teresa tethered to reality.

She definitely should not have stayed back. She didn't know what had gotten into her.

Mark Rexona himself had left the office hours and he was usually the last one to ever leave the office. His last words to her were clipped and very brief. A simple," Lock the door behind you."

But she was able to leave. Not just yet. Not when her body was still tremendously trembling from every look, every command, every interaction. She had been suffering all week. Going through long hours with a vibrator firmly placed on her clitoris. Having orgasms after orgasms, touching her breasts, pinching and pulling with the fantasy that her boss was the one doing it to her.

His intoxicating scent still lingered in the room, clean, undeniably masculine and heavy. His cologne clung to the leather chair like a shadow.

Teresa stood behind his desk, with her heart pounding furiously in her chest, her legs clamped together in frustration and futile resistance.

She had planned waiting till she got home. She tried to hold on as much as she could but an incident that happened today just set off a fire that refused to come down .

She and Mark were walking from a meeting and headed back to the office when Teresa slipped on a puddle of water and almost fell. She was caught by Mark who quickly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to his chest. Teresa froze at the contact. Her hands were on his chest and through the perfectly tailored suit she could faintly feel his muscles. Her face flushed red at the contact and she tried to leave his hold, only to end off being pulled back.

Mark's cold voice came" Miss Smith I would appreciate if you could look where you are going. I will not always be around to catch you." His voice was deep and serious, he didn't shout or raise his voice even by a syllable but he didn't need to. The intense dominance leaked from his words leading Teresa to nod blankly at him.

He let go of her eventually, but her dress still smelt of his cologne. It swarmed her senses giving her the illusion of her carrying is scent. Her underwear was completely soaked and she had to rush into the bathroom to change to her emergency pair.

All day she tried to concentrate, tried to fantasize about a less forbidden man. But alas it did not work. Her working closely beside him was not helping matters as well. The more orders and commands he gave, the more her hold on reality lessened until she found herself in the situation.

She tried to stop herself. Really tried. But eventually temptation won.

She sat down in his chair, his chair, after she had confirmed that the door was locked. Aside from her and the occasional security men on patrol, the office was silent perfect for her to commit her crime and get away with it.

She took off her heels and let her thighs fall wide open, shivering as the cool air from the air conditioner, brushed against her heated and now very sensitive skin. Her hands unzipped her skirt and set them on the table. Her fingers moved before her mind could stop them, slipping her wet lace panties off and dropping them on the table.

Her hands moved on their like they were possessed. Trailing slowly and softly to her center and then lightly tapping on her very swollen clitoris.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she began to rub faster and harsher, trying to chase her orgasm.

The angle was all wrong. The location was even more wrong. She was taking a tremendous risk by doing this.

But that only made it hotter and far more exciting. Her breasts were set free as she tore open her shirt and grabbed one, massaging and pinching the very sensitive nipple.

Her other hand had gripped the armrest like a lifeline, so hard that her knuckles had turned white, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused as she imagined his voice, low and sharp, saying her name like a command, telling her to go faster, not to stop. To cum for him.

"Teresa."

Just like that. Sharp. Heavy. Dominant. Cold

She whimpered softly at the fantasy and it's effect on her. Her fingers moved faster, slightly curving so that her short nails could lightly scratch on her clips increasing the friction and pleasure tremendously.

Her legs began to tremble at the intensity of her impending orgasm.

She leaned backwards, her head against the leather, biting her lip hard in order to stifle the loud moan that was threatening to erupt out of her throat.

She could see him in her fantasy. Towering over her. Watching with both arms on either side of her head. He guided her to her orgasm, telling her when to speed up and where to slow down. She was going insane with pleasure and her head felt foggy.

His orders were getting harsher and he instructed her to go as fast as she could.

Her back arched. A breathless cry escaped her lips before she could catch it and swallow it down.

And then, she heard something....

A creak...

She whipped her head towards the door.... she froze in place.

Her blood froze and heated up all at the same time.

Standing at the door with his face shadowed by the darkness, in his ever immaculate suit, was none other than Mark Rexona.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Teresa to her feet standing bare. She caught his unimpressed raise of an eyebrow and she looked down realizing that she was bare from her waist downwards. She scrambled to quickly wear her skirt, to fix up her blouse, to try to make words flow from her mouth.

But nothing worked. She was blank. Nothing she would say would erase this moment.Nothing could erase what he'd just witnessed. In his own office. In his chair.

He said nothing, absolutely nothing.

He didn't blink. Didn't make a single expression.

His eyes didn't wander about her body, didn't leer at her exposed skin, but they looked. Deeply. Quietly. Curiously. His jaw clenched just slightly.

And then....

He turned away and walked off.

Just like that.

No words. No berating. Not a single expression.

The door clicked shut behind him, as he footsteps echoed in the empty hallway.

Teresa was left completely breathless, her skin flushed red and her heart racing with dread.

What I'm the world had she done?

What had he seen? Did he just appear or had he been watching her for a long time.

She stared at the closed door, her mind spinning with fear, anxiety and a strange flutter in her chest.

Because for a moment, just a single second, she could've sworn his gaze lingered on her.