38 : I can never get enough of you

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⚠️ The chapter contains strong and detailed mature content that some might not feel comfortable with. I'm warning you ahead so no hate comment will be tolerated, thank you.

 I'm warning you ahead so no hate comment will be tolerated, thank you

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— 𖤐 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :

Something feels off.

I can't shake this gut feeling that something isn't fucking right.

It's Sunday today, and it's been two weeks since Mirha joined my office as an intern.

In her first week, she was bursting with excitement and energy. I have to admit, she's smart and a quick learner; she picked up everything in no time.

But for the past four days, she's been acting really strange. I can see the tension in her, like something massive is weighing her down. She tries hard to hide it, but I can see right through her facade. Her smiles seem forced and pale, lacking the spark.

She avoids my gaze, like she can't hold my eyes for more than two seconds, and honestly, it pisses me the fuck off.

She's stopped being her usual goofy self and even stopped bickering with me. It's not that she ignores me; she just keeps agreeing with everything I say, and I'm used to her pushing back on my every word.

It's like someone's sucking the life out of her, and I can't stand that shit.

I miss her noisy self—the one who'd challenge me at every turn, tossing sass around like it was fucking confetti.

That fire in her eyes is what I crave, not this shadow of a woman she's become. I want her back, the one who didn't give a damn and kept me on my toes.

I fucking love having her in the office. I'm glad she came up with the idea of doing a job in my company.

We share every meal together, and I keep her in my office all fucking day under the guise of training her—just so I can stare at her as much as I want.

I need her close, always, where I can watch her—only me.

She looks so fucking irresistibly maddening in those formal outfits that it drives me wild. I can barely hold myself together.

I'm always two seconds away from snapping the neck of every fucker in the office who so much as looks her way.

In a fit of pure, blinding jealousy and possessiveness, I've bent her over my desk a few times, spanked her, and fucked her senseless.

Sometimes it's on the couch when she strolls in suggesting we grab lunch. But I always end up devouring her instead.

I can't get enough of her. No matter how many times I kiss those soft, luscious lips of hers, leaving them fucking swollen, or how many times I thrust into her warm, inviting pink cunt, I'm always craving more.

Each time I mark her slender, porcelain throat, the moment those marks start to fade, I'm tempted to carve new ones into her delicate skin.

The way her breath hitches when I pull her closer, the way her eyes spark with  anticipation, and her lips part—it's intoxicating.

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