'Where Roses Grow' - 𝙍𝙃𝙊𝘿𝙀𝙎
Never mix business with pleasure, they say.
Never date a rich man, they say.
Never date a man with a fiancé, they say.
Never give your virginity to a CEO, they say.
It all began when she landed the coveted position...
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"Every heartbeat whispers her name, every thought revolves around her. I'm consumed by her presence, obsessed with her essence."
.
After hours of sifting through paperwork, my usual messy attire was a clear sign of my dedication. As I rose from my chair and stretched, thoughts of the unresolved Greg and Blair situation weighed heavily on me. I hadn't seen Blair since, and the prospect of facing him filled me with unease. It was all getting exhausting.
Suddenly, the door burst open, jolting me from my gaze. "Mr. Bezos?" he swiftly locked the door behind him, his expression stern as he approached.
"Get on the desk," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
I recoiled, disbelief coloring my voice. "Are you out of your mind? Why on earth would I get on the desk? You shouldn't even be here."
"Get on the desk," he repeated, his insistence sending a chill down my spine.
"I am not getting on that desk. Who are you to order me around?" I stood firm, my arms crossed defensively.
"I am your boss, and you do whatever I tell you to do," he retorted coldly, his expression unyielding. "Get on that desk."
My frustration bubbled up. "You have some nerve," I spat back, my voice tinged with anger.
Without warning, he seized me by the waist and lifted me onto the desk, his grip tight and commanding. I felt a rush of anger and helplessness as he positioned himself between my legs, his dominance visible.
"You are mine. Got that? I control you," he asserted firmly, his tone dripping with possessiveness.
"I'm not a game you can play, or your fuck girl when you get horny. I am glad I didn't opened my legs to you. I will keep my virginity till the day I die. Your wedding is in a month, focus on Athena."
The tension in the room was visible, crackling like an electricity as his hand tightened in my hair, yanking my head back with a force that made my scalp sting. "Shut up," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority as his lips crashed onto mine, crushing any protest that dared to escape.
I winced, a sudden rush of defiance mingling with fear as I summoned the strength to push against his chest, my voice trembling as I managed to utter, "Stop, Mr. Bezos," the words barely audible against his insistent assault.
"I hate to admit it, but I'm obsessed with you," he confessed, his grip shifting from my hair to my shoulders, his touch possessive yet strangely tender, like a predator trying to tame its prey.
"You're a mess, Mr. Bezos," I shot back, my words laced with frustration and a hint of desperation.
"Butterfly, stop calling me that," he pleaded, his voice softening as if he were trying to convince himself as much as me.
