The headquarters of Voss International was a monolith of glass and steel, a temple to Damien's control.
By 9:00 AM, he was in the "War Room," barking orders at his legal team and tearing through a merger strategy that would consolidate his power over the European markets. He was the apex predator here.
There was no room for vanilla scents or the memory of a pink tank top.
Then, at 11:00 AM, his phone buzzed on the mahogany conference table.
Sera: Bringing you lunch.
Damien didn't even pause his sentence to his CFO. He swiped the notification and typed a single, cold command.
Damien: Don't.
He threw the phone face down. He thought that was the end of it. He forgot that Sera didn't follow his rules; she dismantled them.
Forty minutes later, his intercom crackled.
"Mr. Voss? Your... sister is here. She says she has the lunch you forgot this morning?"
Damien's bit down so hard on his jaw he felt a muscle in his temple pulse. "Send her in," he rasped. "And Marcus? Cancel my next ten minutes. I need to 'consult' with my family."
The door opened, and Sera drifted in. She was a walking provocation. She wore a thin, silk floral sundress that skimmed her curves like a second skin. It was sleeveless, the light from the floor-to-ceiling office windows revealing the unmistakable lack of a bra. Her nipples were two hard points against the fabric, pebble-hard from the office's industrial AC.
She set a small paper bag on his desk and hopped onto the edge of the obsidian surface, her legs swinging, the hem of her dress riding up to mid-thigh.
"Missed me,... brother?" she purred, her voice a low vibration that mocked the professional silence of the room.
"You're out of your fucking mind coming here," Damien growled, his eyes darting to the frosted glass door. His assistant was sitting five feet away. "This is my place of business, Sera. Get out."
"Make me," she whispered.
Before he could stand, his desk phone began to ring. It was the London board; a multi-million dollar closing call he couldn't ignore. He glared at her, jabbed the speakerphone button, and leaned back.
"Voss here," he said, his voice a mask of ice.
Sera didn't hesitate. She slid off the desk, her bare knees hitting the plush carpet between his legs. Damien's breath hitched as she reached out, her small hands deftly undoing his leather belt and sliding the zipper of his charcoal trousers down.
"Mr. Voss? We're looking at the final amortization schedule," the voice from London droned on.
Sera pulled him free. He was already stone-hard, a thick, pulsing vein throbbing against his dick.
She didn't waste time with a look. She leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the velvet head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the ridge before sliding down.
Damien's hand flew to the edge of his desk, his fists clenching hard. "The... the schedule is acceptable," he managed to say, his voice tight, strained. "Proceed to... section four."
Sera looked up at him, her eyes watering, her cheeks hollowed out as she took him deep.
She began to suck with a rhythmic, desperate intensity, her throat working as she swallowed him whole.
Every time Damien had to speak, she gripped his thighs and pulled him deeper, making him gag silently while he maintained his "ruthless CEO" persona on the line.
"Is everything alright, Mr. Voss? You sound... breathless," the CFO asked.
"Fine," Damien hissed, his eyes rolling back as Sera's tongue flicked against his frenulum. "Just... a long day. Finalize the signatures. We're done here."
He slammed the phone down.
The second the line went dead, Damien snapped. He grabbed Sera by the shoulders and hauled her up. He didn't say a word. He spun her around and slammed her face-down onto the obsidian desk.
Papers scattered like autumn leaves. A glass paperweight rolled to the edge. He flipped the floral silk of her dress up, revealing her bare, dripping pussy. She hadn't been wearing panties all day. She'd walked through his lobby, talked to his staff, and ridden the elevator completely exposed for him.
"You're a filthy little exhibitionist, aren't you?" he snarled, fisting her hair and pulling her head back until her tits were crushed against the cool, dark wood.
He didn't use a condom. He didn't use a drop of oil. He lined himself up and slammed into her from behind, the impact making the heavy desk groan.
"Quiet," he commanded, his hand flying over her mouth to stifle the high-pitched wail of pleasure she let out. "My assistant is right outside that door, Sera. If you make a sound, the whole world knows what a slut you are for your stepbrother."
The danger made her clench around him like a vice. He began to bang her with a frantic, animalistic pace, his hips slapping against her backside in a rhythmic, wet percussion.
He reached around, his thumb finding her clit and grinding hard, working her into a frenzy while he bottomed out with every thrust.
Sera's muffled screams died against his palm.
Her body began to shake, her internal muscles pulsing in a violent, rhythmic contraction that threatened to end him instantly.
She bit into his hand, her eyes wide and glassy, as her orgasm tore through her.
Damien felt his own control evaporate.
He pulled out at the last possible second, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He worked his length twice and erupted, painting her flushed ass cheeks and the scattered legal documents with thick, hot ropes of white cum.
He stood there for a moment, the silence of the office returning, heavy and saturated with the scent of sex and expensive cologne.
He reached down, grabbed a pair of discarded lace panties he realized she'd been carrying in her bag, and used them to wipe the cum from her skin.
He didn't give them back. Instead, he folded the soiled silk and tossed them into his top desk drawer, right next to his gold fountain pen. A trophy.
"Get out," he ordered, his voice returning to that cold, distant rasp as he zipped his pants. "Before someone sees you looking like a ruined mess. I have a board meeting in twenty minutes."
Sera pushed herself off the desk, her legs visibly shaking as she smoothed down her floral dress. She looked back at him, her lips shiny and her eyes dark with a new, dangerous hunger.
She leaned in, whispering against his ear so the assistant outside wouldn't hear. "Next time, Damien... I want you to cum inside me. Right here. In front of the window so the whole city can watch you breed your sister."
She turned and walked out, her hips swaying, leaving Damien alone in his office with a drawer full of secrets and a mind that was no longer his own....