Smut, Spice and everything nice

I'd marry you

William

It's been weeks, and I can't shake her from my mind. The moment I sit down at my desk, I'm thinking about her, this fantasy I've built with her, after being an absolute dick to her. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Feel her.

As I lean against the cool sink, her image is burned into my thoughts. I close my eyes again, leaning back against the bathroom wall, and I let the tension that's been knotting up in my chest finally unravel.

My hand drifts down, and I wrap my fingers around myself, already hard just from thinking about her. That woman who haunts me. She's there, in my mind, bent over my desk, those eyes wide, lips parted, begging for me. Fuck, I can almost hear her moaning, feel her soft skin under my fingers. I stroke myself, slow at first, the tension building with every pulse of my hand. My breathing becomes ragged, deep, as the image of her perfect body, her skin so warm, her voice so sweet, fills my mind.

In my head, I can hear her gasping, can see her arching her back, offering herself to me, so fucking ready. The way her breath would hitch when I kiss her neck, the shudder of her body as I run my hands over her curves. I stroke myself faster, my grip tightening as the fantasy takes control. My hips jerk up into my hand, the need for release overwhelming me.

I can see it so clearly: my hands gripping her waist, her bent over the desk, her ass high in the air as I take her. Over and over. The slick sound of our bodies moving together fills my ears as I stroke myself harder, chasing the release that's been denied for too long.

My breath is shallow now, my body tense, every muscle on edge. I'm so close. In my head, she moans my name, her body shivering beneath me, surrendering to me completely. The fantasy is perfect. The feeling of power, of control.

And then it hits. That release I've been craving. I throw my head back, groaning as the pleasure surges through me, my hand moving faster until I can't take it anymore. My body convulses, every thought dissolving into that final, blissful moment.

The silence afterward is deafening. I breathe heavily, eyes closed, basking in the afterglow of release. For a moment, everything is calm. Clear.

But it never lasts.

I glance down at myself, lips curling into a smirk as I wash away the evidence of my fantasy. I adjust my clothes, pulling my shirt back into place, fixing my tie. A part of me laughs at how easy it is to flip the switch, from lust-driven to businessman, like none of it happened.

I walk to my office and sink back into my chair, trying to focus on work.

Knock, knock.

"Come in," I say, keeping my tone casual.

My secretary, Stephanie, pokes her head into the room. She's all business, sharp eyes scanning the papers in her hand before meeting mine. "Sir, there's a candidate here for the interview. I believe it's the girl Mabit mentioned in the email."

I frown, trying to remember. The only thing I've been thinking about the past few weeks is her. That girl from my fantasies. "Which girl?"

"You signed off on it yesterday," she says, a slight edge to her voice. "She's here for the assistant position."

"Ah, right. The assistant. Something Brown." I'd barely skimmed the email, too distracted by my own thoughts. "Send her in," I say with a wave of my hand, leaning back as if I wasn't just lost in a fantasy minutes ago.

Stephanie nods and walks out. I glance at my phone, my fingers twitching with the urge to call HR, just to ask who this girl is. But before I can make a move, the door clicks open, and I hear soft footsteps approaching.