I'm a hoe.

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. 

"I was prepared to be impressed," he murmured, accent lilting as he stepped inside your door as if he owned the place. 

That BDE was in full effect. And rightfully earned, you knew from delicious first hand experience.

"But this?”

Henry’s hand grazed your bare arm, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

“This is dangerous, Little One."

You tilted your head and raised your eyebrow, letting the compliment curl around you like Henry’s scent. A chord struck in your brain and you wanted to be naughty.

"And here I thought you appreciated a little danger."

Henry’s eyes traced the curve of your neck down to the cleavage that your gown elegantly displayed. He stepped forward into your space and you craned your neck so that your lips were available.

But instead of kissing you, he looked down, reached out, and fingered the high slit of your dress, his touch barely there, but potent. 

"Oh, I do. But we have an opera benefit to attend. And if I linger here much longer…" 

His voice trailed off, the promise thick in the air, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to your pulse point, earning a quiet whimper from you. Your nipples pebbled and you wanted to drop to your knees as Henry pulled back.

With a smirk, he offered his arm, leading you to the elevator. The moment the door shut you were facing off in the enclosed space and Henry’s eyes were all over you, taking you all in, but pausing several times at the tight nipples that your gown showcased. 

You were a vision, a goddess, and he felt extremely fortunate to be in your company tonight.

His cock pounded in his pants and he licked his lips, then cleared his throat. He lifted his eyes to yours and ran his fingers around the collar of his shirt, as it suddenly became too tight.

“I want very much to ask if you are wet, but I can’t know the answer to that right now.”

“Oh.”

You lifted your hand to your neck and trailed it down your dress, stopping to circle your own nipple through the silken fabric, then continued down to the slit in your dress. You reached inside and fingered your pussy, collecting the wetness there. 

Henry’s mouth dropped slightly open to gain air and his eyes dilated as you touched yourself, looking boldly in his eyes.

As you reached the bottom floor, you moved toward him and stuck your fingers in his mouth, and he wrapped those strong lips around them and sucked them hard.

Your pussy clenched down and you realized that you played yourself while you were trying to get him caught up.

Henry pulled off with a plop, and then extended that wide wet muscle of a tongue and licked your fingers again.

You wanted to cry.

“Hmmmmmm. Delicious. You’re not wearing any panties, are you, Little One?”

Henry’s eyes were lust blown, and you had to concentrate to breathe. Luckily, the elevator doors opened to give you more air.

“No, Sir.”

Henry held you in his glare of steel as his jaw clenched, then came close and placed his hand on your bare back, made possible by the low cut of your dress. He extended his hand before you.

“After you.”

Henry was the epitome of restraint.

You walked out of the lift through the lobby to the waiting car. After climbing in behind you, enclosing you in the intimate darkness of the leather-clad interior, Henry turned to you, his gaze burning.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing to me tonight? This dress, your skin, your taste? Your incredible verve. God, you make me feel so alive." 

His voice was coffee and fire, rich and dangerously low.

“I swear that I’m going to make you feel a fraction of what you do to me. And it will practically burn the place down tonight.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his fingers tracing the curve of your thigh. His hand slid beneath the slit, fingers teasing, exploring, daring you to keep still. His long thick finger caressed the keyhole and the slit of you, teasing, but never quite reaching where you needed him to be. 

The city lights flickered past, but all you could focus on was Henry, the way his lips hovered near your ear, his whispered promises dark and intoxicating.

“You’re so soft, wet and hot, and you’re all that I want forever, Little One.”

You reached over and felt the steel rod in his pants and he let you, but he kept you at arms length for the entirety of the drive, your soft whimpers and moans the most beautiful prelude to the evening’s events.

By the time you arrived, your pulse was unsteady, and your skin was flushed with barely restrained desire.

Henry, cool as ever, adjusted his cufflinks as if he hadn’t just unraveled you in the backseat of his car. He stepped out first, then offered his hand, his grip firm as he helped you onto the red carpet.

He led you into the grand entrance of the opera house, his dark eyes sweeping over you once more, this time with a knowing smirk. The chandeliers cast golden light over the room, illuminating the way his gaze lingered at the plunging neckline and the scandalous slit that teased just enough to make him scowl a little with disapproval now that you were around other people.

He didn't want anyone else to see you like this, beautiful with need. But then he smiled at you, wicked, dangerous.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, stepping forward, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your arm as he leaned in.

His voice was a low hum, like a perfectly played overture. 

“We should have skipped the opera altogether.”

A slow smile tugged at your lips as you met his gaze. 

“And miss the performance?”

His fingers trailed lower, brushing the delicate silk of your dress. 

“The only performance I’m interested in,” he whispered, “is the one where I have you gasping my name.”

Your pulse fluttered as he offered his arm, ever the composed gentleman despite the wicked promise he just made. He led you through the entrance, his touch possessive yet controlled, a stark contrast to the hunger you can already sense beneath the surface.

You passed acquaintances, and Henry introduced you as a consultant, a new title gained when you were let go of the company and formed your own. Your office stayed the same, right beside his, but your responsibilities and pay increased greatly.

Henry was ever the professional, and charming as he spoke, but the glances he gave you were unsettling. 

You knew something was coming.

—----

When you were finally ensconced in Henry’s private box, the velvet of the balcony seat was plush beneath you, though it was nothing compared to the warm, firm pressure of Henry’s hand on your thigh. 

The lights dimmed, and the orchestra swelled, a cascade of violins trembling with anticipation. Your breath caught as Henry’s fingers traced lazy circles just above the slit of your dress, his touch featherlight.

“This aria is breathtaking,” he stated lowly, lips dangerously close to your ear as he pulled your legs apart and settled his hand between them.

“But I can’t seem to keep my attention on the stage.”

You barely registered the soprano’s soaring notes as Henry’s hand slid higher, fingers grazing the silk at the juncture of your thigh and your hip. A low, slow burn rolled through you that had nothing to do with the grand romance playing out below.

“Henry,” you whispered, half warning, half invitation.

His lips quirked in amusement, but his fingers didn't stop until he reached the very apex of you. And all the while, he feigned that he was watching the stage.

You certain sure that what he was focused on was driving you mad.

“Shh,” his breath teased the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers did the same to your wet and aching slit.

He found out just how wet you were as his fingers glided through your slippery pussy lips. You were on the verge of begging as he rocked his knuckle back and forth, never quite penetrating you, but making you dream dreams of him deep inside you.

“I need it.”  You rushed, gaze locked on the stage as Henry looked lovingly at you.

“Need what, Little One?” Henry asked. 

“Need you to finger me.” 

Henry tsked and he pulled his hand away, turning away from you a bit. You wanted to cry and scream and beg for him to touch you again. He watched your agony for a moment then patted your thigh and rested his hand there.

You heated up all over again.

“Good girl. We wouldn’t want to cause a crescendo before the second act.”

A shiver coursed through you as the audience below sat in rapt attention, oblivious to the far more sinful performance unfolding in the shadows of Henry’s box. The forbidden thrill of it had your pulse racing, your breathing staccato.

Henry teased you for the better part of an hour, driving you as mad as Anne Boleyn. He drove you to the peak of your fulfillment, and then snatched you away from the crown jewels time and time again.

As the opera neared a crescendo, so too did Henry’s touch, his fingers stroking your wet and aching slit, and slipping your over-sensitive clit between his knuckles. He was playing you like a piano, and it made you want to sing.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss just below your ear. 

“Tell me… is it the music? Or me?”

You turned your head, lips inches from his, eyes dark with need. 

“Both,” you admit. 

“Please put your fingers inside me,” you begged.

Henry smiled, dark and knowing. 

“Hmmmm. Let’s see if we can make this night end on a high note.”

The soprano held the final note that filled the grand hall. But nothing could compare to the symphony Henry played with your body. His digits slipped further, exploring you with slow, deliberate intent. 

His touch turned demanding, each movement calculated as he coaxed you higher, unraveling you right there in the box. Henry's long thick fingers crooked and pressed deeper inside you, reaching that bundle of nerves, and made your body hug around his hand.

Tiny stings of pleasure dotted across your skin with your goosebumps and Henry sighed. 

“Fuck you’re tight.”

His words made you topple over the edge into bliss, the risk of being discovered heightening every sensation. You barely suppressed a cry, fingers digging into Henry’s arm as your pleasure crested, wave after wave crashing through you.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Exquisite.”

Your breath was ragged, heart hammering against your ribs as you fought to stay composed. Henry withdrew his hand, smoothing the fabric of your dress with infuriating nonchalance. 

“We should stay for the second act,” he mused, eyes flicking to the stage as if nothing had happened. You stared at him mutely, telegraphing your need.

“Or… perhaps you’d like a more private encore? I mean, it wouldn’t do to leave a puddle of my cum on the opera house floor.”

You whimpered at the image, but you stood, legs still unsteady, and barely able to suppress the smirk tugging at your lips. 

Henry led you down the stairs and out of the opera house, and you didn’t know why you were surprised to see the car exactly where it was a little over an hour earlier. You brushed your body against his as he ushered you into the back seat.

As soon as the car started rolling, Henry’s cock was out and in his hand. Your attention was torn between his magnetic stare and the glorious organ in his fist. 

“Climb on,” he gritted, and you didn’t hesitate to move.

You hiked your skirt up and positioned your legs on either side of his thick muscular thighs, trembling as he swiped the thick, swollen mushroom head of his cock through your sopping wet cunt.

“You drive me absolutely….mad! Fucckkkk!”

Henry gasped as you slid down his dick. He leaned back as you rose and fell on his thick shaft, coating his cock with your sticky, sweet fluid. His huge hand wrapped around your throat and held you in place while he drove up inside you, thumb on his other hand collecting your wetness as he tortured your clit again.

He pulled you down for a filthy kiss, the first of the night, and then smacked your ass. When he was done ravaging your mouth, he purred in your ear.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had. The hottest, the tightest, the wettest.”

You threw your head back and Henry took the opportunity to mark you up. After breaking capillaries on your neck, he growled at you.

“Cum one more time for me. My balls are so fucking full of cum from watching you in that box tonight. Gonna fill you so full of my seed Little One.”

One hand grabbed your slicked back bun and pulled your head back, making you arch for him, a feast for his eyes. His fingers travelled down your collarbone to your breasts and free them from the least restrictive neckline ever. 

“But what if you get pregnant?”

He looked at you when you clamped down around him, eyes burning through your soul.

“Won’t it be amazing when you’re round and full of my child? I’ll be able to pull your sweet sustenance for my self. These beautiful breasts will be even more sensitive to my touch. Your curves even more bounteous and enticing.”

As his fingers and lips, tongue, and teeth teased your hard nipples, you picked up speed, your ass slapping against his thighs. You were breathless at his words, the epiphany of his sentiments such a turn on.

“Oh shit,” you moaned, cumming and holding on to him for dear life.

You wound your arms around Henry’s impressive shoulders as he pistoned into you until you released all over him and the fine leather seat, screamed his name, and shivered as his hot seed shot inside you.

“With this kind of performance and work satisfaction, you deserve more money for your services.” 

“I hate you,” you chuckled.

Henry kissed your forehead as you fought sleep against his broad chest, his heartbeat lulling you into slumber, and him still half hard inside you. 

You’d figure out how to get out of the car when you got to his place you thought distantly.

“Cancel them.” 

He grabbed his phone from his desk and stalked past you to the elevator. You followed, and could literally see the steam coming off his ears.

Henry was close to coming unglued. He did not plan on this today.

Did he have a claim on you?

Yes.

Were you aware of that claim?

No, but that had nothing to do with it.

“Can’t. It’s a date,” came your saucy reply.

That stopped him in his tracks. Henry turned slowly to face you as you looked up at the elevator indicator.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“What the hell do you mean?” 

You raised your eyebrow at him and then walked into the elevator, forcing him to follow you. You pressed the button and looked up again, ignoring Henry’s stare.

You had to admit you were enjoying this. 

“You expect me to not have a date tonight, Mr. Cavill?”

Henry leaned against the elevator wall and crossed his arms. He considered what day it was.

“You didn’t last year.”

You looked at him, fire in your eyes. 

“I was newly hired and when you said we were working late that day, I didn’t want to rock the boat that early.”

That was true, but you were also already smitten and wanted to spend the evening with Henry.

“But I’m done letting work take over my life. I need more, Mr. Cavill. I need a life.”

Henry huffed and then stood up straight. He was exasperated because couldn’t you see that you were his life? He thought about it.

Maybe you couldn’t see it because he never said it.

He moved closer to you, determined to make you understand. In the confined space, the proximity caused the hair on the back of your neck to rise.

“What about what happened back there in your office, Little One?”

His sexy murmur and that accent almost made you weak, but you remained strong, looking at him as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. But how could you forget?

The kiss.

You cleared your throat.

“I’m not sure what that was about.” 

Your eyes looked at the elevator wall.  

“You kissed me and then said something about a competition. Because I got flowers.”

“Because someone else sent you flowers. Out of the blue! In all the time we’ve worked together, not once have you mentioned a boyfriend or dating. So, who the hell is he?”

You gave him a side eye.

“I don’t need to tell you who I’m seeing, Mr. Cavill,” you said with a smirk.

“If you want him to have full use of his limbs, you will.” 

Your eyes widened, and you took a step back. 

“Cancel your plans. This guy, whoever he is,” he snarled, “can wait another day.” 

Henry just wanted a chance with you. All that mattered was that you spend tonight with him.

“Did you just threaten my date?”

For some insane reason, that made you hot. Your nipples were tight and aching, and your pussy was slick and pounding.

You shook your head and looked back up at the elevator indicator, willing it to go faster. This lie of yours was getting more involved, and the pit of your desire was getting harder to crawl out of.

“Are you still planning to go out with him tonight?” 

You just stared at him. 

“This is not a competition, Mr. Cavill. This is my heart.”

His expression flickered, just for a second, then his jaw tightened, and he leaned in again, voice dangerously low. 

“You think this is just about winning?”

You didn’t answer. Not right away. Because you weren’t sure you wanted to know what happened if the answer was no.

The air between you thickened, his question hanging between you. His eyes were holding you captive and you felt like you should look away, should deflect, but you couldn’t. Before you could think better of it, your breath stuttered.

Henry's eyes dropped to your lips again, the tension taut. He grabbed your hand, his fingers brushing against your wrist, just enough to send a shiver through you.

His control was slipping more and more, and as much as he didn’t like that feeling, he realized that maybe he loved you more.

He took in that serious pout, those beautiful eyes, and the luscious hips he wanted to hold on to as he made love to you. A slow smirk tugged at Henry’s lips as his eyes slipped over your ass pencil skirt and he licked his lips. He wasn’t trying to cover his salacious looks at you.

You needed to know that Henry’s baser instincts were about to take over. 

He needed to show you, physically, how urgent this feeling was. 

His mind was filled with visions of the two of you fucking like rabbits. In the office. In his penthouse. On a beach. Wherever he could find a flat surface, that’s where he would take you. 

“Mr. Cavill, you can’t tell me when I can go out on dates and when I can’t. You’re my boss. Not my man.” 

Your eyes shot fire at him. And damn you, the smirk that came over his face when you did that threatened to make you burst into flames. 

“I’m going on my date tonight. I will enjoy the company of a man who’s interested in getting to know me. And then, maybe…” 

You paused, allowing the silence to fill in the worst of Henry’s fears. Another man having what was his, at least in his mind. It was tearing him apart inside. 

The elevator finally reached the ground floor and before the doors opened fully, Henry stopped them and then pressed the button for the penthouse.

You were so frustrated that you stamped your foot like a child when you looked up at him in fury as the elevator rose again.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Henry smiled down at you and advanced even further. Your stomach flipped and it was tethered to your pussy.

“So you’re planning to fuck tonight?”

You gasped as you backed up to the wall. Henry followed and put his hands on the railing on either side of you, caging you in. 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Little One. Whoever he is, he’s not good enough for you. Never would have been able to handle you. Not in a million years.”

You shivered as he stared down at you.

“You don’t even know who he is?”

“Doesn’t matter. I know what I know.”

Your teeth captured your bottom lip and Henry looked at it lovingly, reaching up to pull it free, and then caress your chin.

Your mind couldn’t help thinking that Henry could handle you. You took a deep breath trying to clear your head, but his scent was surrounding you. And his warmth was beckoning. 

Then, your cunt did the talking for you.

“And who do you think could handle me?”

Henry smiled then, eyes flicking down to your lips as his hand palmed the back of your head, his fingers threading to your scalp. His thumb was still on your lips.

“I think you already know the answer to that, Little One,” Henry whispered and you whimpered, earning a small moan from him. 

“So what’s changed? Why now?” 

“Seeing those flowers made me realize that I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. You belong with me, Little One. Only me.” 

His possessive words sent a shiver through you. Part of you wanted to argue, to assert your independence. But another part thrilled at his desire for you.

You looked up at him as the tip of your tongue ventured out and lightly brushed the skin of his digit. You watched in real time as his eyes dilated, the beautiful multicolored blue changing to black. 

“Fuck…”

Henry pressed his thumb further into your mouth and you sucked heartily, keeping eye contact as your tongue swirled around him and caused his half hard dick to stand at full mast. He pulled his thumb out with a plop and then rubbed the wetness around your lips. 

Then he leaned down and licked it off of them before slipping his tongue into your open mouth, his hand coming up to fully palm your head now.

“You say you need a life. Now tell me you want to go out with some other man, or do you need me to show you what kind of life you could have?”

That dangerous eyebrow cocked as the elevator doors chimed open.

“Show me.”

Henry bared his teeth in a sinister smile and you knew that you were about to be ruined. He took your hand and led you down the hallway to his door, and you stood there as he input the code for entry.

Once inside, your coats were thrown off and your hands were all over each other as you tried to get skin to skin. You pulled his shirt out of his pants, he was bunching up your skirt to get to you, until you both stopped and laughed at the comedy.

“Let’s slow down a bit so we can get to the good parts,” you whispered, between quick wet kisses and gropes of Henry’s hands on your body.

His cock throbbed in his pants, demanding attention as it strained against the fabric. 

“I don’t know if I can slow down my Little One. All that matters is sinking inside you and imprinting my name on your perfect pussy, which no other man will ever touch again. You belong to me; always have, always will.”

“Fuck, Henry!”

Henry took you in, flushed with desire, your pupils blown wide.

“Yes, yes. I am going to fuck you my angel.”

As Henry watched you get undressed, he rid himself of the rest of his clothes and then grabbed you, bridal style and carried you into his bedroom, setting you down in your bra and panties on the extra large king bed there. 

You leaned back on your hands and watched with wide eyes as Henry took down his boxers, your mouth hanging open at the very large cock that he was hiding inside them. You bit your bottom lip as Henry smiled at your reaction and took himself in hand, stroking slowly as his large fingers encircled his considerable girth. 

His glove size made sense now.

“I’m afraid I may not last long. Every night I stroke myself and imagine what it would feel like to be inside your tight warmth; whether you’d be a screamer or try to keep quiet, making pretty little noises in your throat; whether your nails would rake down my back. So many questions, Little One…”

You arched your back and ran your hand down your body. You could see precum bubble over Henry’s fingers when you put your hand in your panties and heard him moan. You stood and then kneeled in front of him, earning a straight out groan from your employer.

Your own private fantasies involved the show that was happening in front of you right now.

“We’ll figure out the answers together, but maybe I can help you out. Y’know, teamwork and all of that.”

You reached out and saw Henry’s shudder as you touched his warm, satiny smooth cock, trying, but failing to close your fingers around him. You moaned in your throat as you tried to jack him and his hand quickly came up to guide yours as he bent down to stick his tongue in your mouth in a filthy kiss.

“Been waiting so long for this moment. Little One. Open wide.”

He grins down at you.

“And tap my thigh if it’s too much.”

You sat back on your shins and opened up as Henry lubricated your lips with his fluid, then slapped your outstretched tongue with his heavy member. Your hand came up and weighed his balls, your spit dripping down them to the floor as he shoved his dick into your mouth.

You took as much as you could in your mouth and made eye contact for more. Henry grimaced as he slid cock past your tonsils into your throat. You carefully breathed through your nose and looked up at him.

“Those eyes, Little One. That mouth, that neck. Doing so well for me.”

You smiled around your full mouth and began to move, bobbing on him, making sure to pay special attention to his engorged head. Your combined fluids were everywhere as you jacked what you couldn’t fit in your hand and Henry’s head was alternating between hanging back between his shoulders and looking down at you, blue eyes gleaming.

“You gonna take my cum, Baby? Be a good girl for me?”

You reached forward and grabbed Henry’s ass, bobbing faster and humming around his girth.

“Holyyyyyyy fuck… Little One!”

Henry shot off and you gulped the only cum you ever wanted to swallow down your throat.

You collapsed back on the rug as Henry leaned down and easily picked you up to place you on the bed. He jerked the rest of his cum out of his still half-hard dick onto the juncture of your thighs, eyes full of delight.

“Thank you for that, love. Now I can do this properly. I’m about to make my intentions very, very clear. I thought our first time was going to be beautiful. And it is, but it will also be quite pornographic.”

Henry fingers were inside your panties, playing in the cum that soaked through to your clit, rubbing nasty circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves. You loved giving him that blow job. He looked up and down your body as he pulled your panties to the side.

“Henry…”

“So fucking beautiful. This pussy is so fucking perfect. Need to taste all of you, Little One.”

And with that, Henry leaned down and licked your nipple through the lace of your bra. When he found the ultra stiff peak there, he took it between his teeth as you writhed and moaned beneath him, then he turned to sucking you, hard, not waiting until his other hand deftly unhooked your foundation.

Your bra practically flew off as he handled your breasts roughly, spitting on them and then slurping up the saliva as he held eye contact and nibbled, licked, and sucked you to nirvana.

The moment he so much as touched your clit again, you flew apart in his hands, screaming his name.

“Yes. Yessss. Little One. Let me hear you scream my name. None other.”

You were busy trying to breathe, your back flat on the bed when you felt Henry’s hands tear your panties off, then clamp around your thighs and hold you open.

You felt his hot spit land on your clit and then his warm breath on you for a split second. You were overstimulated and so you tried to stop him from–

“He-Henry, Nouuuunnnnggggghhhhhh! Fuck that feels….”

You looked down to see Henry’s smile and his wide tongue doing unspeakable things to the seam of you. He licked a wide, wet, wonderful path from your ass to your clit and then latched on to destroy your soul.

“Good Godddddd!”

You arched up into his face and began to ride it, pulling on his curls as if they were some kind of magical reins. 

His mouth ravaged you and when he inserted two thick fingers inside you, bent and scissored them, you squirted into his waiting open mouth.

You must have blacked out for a second, because the next thing you knew, Henry was standing and wiping his face with the back of his hand. His cock seemed even larger than when you sucked it. Your cunt wanted it, but your brain was frightened.

“That sweet pussy is all mine, Little One. No one else gets near it.”

You nodded, breathless, and  agreeing to anything.

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned and eyed you.

“Such a good girl. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

He was stroking himself again, looking at your pussy as if it were gold.

“Promise to make you feel good.” 

He looked in your eyes.

“You’ve already ruined me for any other woman.”

You blinked up at him as he descended between your legs.

He swiped his long, hard, thick length between your wet, swollen folds, making you whimper with ecstasy. You wrapped your legs around him, crossing your ankles at his back. 

Henry pushed the head of his cock to your entrance and it slid in like a hot knife through butter. You moaned loudly, clenching him tightly with your inner muscles. He pushed slowly and steadily, letting you get adjusted.

You groaned and your eyes opened to see the corner of his mouth raised in a soft smile. 

“I’ve got you, Little One.” 

You nodded and took a deep breath because he was fucking huge. Henry  slid a hand between you and began rolling your clit in mind-blowing circles.

Your body relaxed and accepted him.

“That’s it, love. Give it to me,” he rasped out before plunging his tongue into your mouth. 

There was an orchestra of sensations as his tongue, his hand, his penis, worked together to fuck you and it felt like beautiful music. Your orgasm blossomed and exploded throughout your body. 

You came in long, crashing waves that shook your body from head to toe, and yet he didn’t stop. He fucked you deeply, reaching spots you didn’t know existed, making you beg and praise and yes, rake your nails down his back. 

At the end, you blacked out again, everything fading away but Henry.

—

Later, after turns in the shower and the bath, you finally had your romantic dinner in bathrobes in Henry’s breakfast nook, cartons of take out shared between you.

You look at Henry’s face, filled with a happiness you had never witnessed before and felt guilty.

“Henry. I’ve got to tell you something.”

Henry smiled at you angelically and raised an adorable eyebrow.

“You want to tell me that you never had another date. That you sent those flowers to yourself.”

Your mouth dropped open in amazement.

“How…?” 

Henry grinned.

“I knew it the moment I read the card. The look on your face was classic.”

Then you got mad.

“So you let me…you ass!”

You hopped up, ready to retrieve your clothes and leave. But Henry caught you by the hand and pulled you into his lap.

“You were willing to push me to see what I would do. So I let you. It helped you to finally admit that you wanted me.”

Henry murmured down at you and you quieted, those eyes mesmerizing you.

“And it helped me too. I was able to finally show my feelings for you, Little One. Oh, how I love you.”

You smiled and reached up for his curls and pulled him down for a kiss.

“I love you too, Henry, but you realize there’s a problem, right?”

His smile faltered slightly. 

“What problem?”

You sighed.

“Workplace relationships. HR nightmares. You’re my boss, Henry.”

“So?”

You arched your own brow at him, incredulous. 

“So? You’re the one who follows the rules to the letter.”

He leaned back to get a better look at your face.

“Are you saying you want to quit?”

You gulped, “Well…”

It was Henry’s turn to sigh. 

“If I fired you, there would be a severance package. But I don’t fire people without cause.”

Your lips twitched. 

“And what if I gave you cause?”

The smile returns, slow and dangerous. 

“Then I suppose you’d have to find a very compelling reason for me to let you go.”

You slid down to the floor, robe slipping off of your shoulders.

They were nothing dramatic, just some pretty little pink peonies and roses with a card that you’d written to yourself.

But Henry, your boss, your gruff, frustrating, inspiring, six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, dark haired, storm-eyed asshole of a boss, apparently, didn’t see it that way. 

—--

You’d worked for Henry for a little over 14 months, and there had been a tension between you since your interview when he just sat there and stared at you as if you were some alien sent from a distant world. 

Despite that, he grilled you about your personal vision, told you he admired your qualifications and you were hired. 

What ensued was a year of hard, but gratifying work with a company that valued diversity and helping the planet. Henry Cavil was the CEO of that company, and as his assistant, you weren’t just a glorified secretary. 

You were right-hand to changing the world.

Henry seemed to care for nothing but work, and was professional to the point of extreme with you, even when you two worked late and long hours side by side.

Holidays were unimportant to him, weekends were just another day, and he didn’t seem to notice that you might feel differently.

You didn’t, but it would have been nice to have been asked.

It would have been nice if he noticed you as a human, if he asked about your family, what you liked to do in your free time....Whatever that was. 

And sometimes, you looked up to see him looking at you as if he were going to ask about one of those things, but in each instance, he just looked back down to what he was working on, continuing with the discussion at hand. 

You let it slide, because being by his side was all that you wanted. Even if he just tolerated you. 

Because you were in love with him. Since the moment before he offered you the job at the end of your interview. 

You could help millions of people around the world, but you couldn’t help yourself from falling in love with Henry, a man at least ten years your senior who was emotionally unavailable.

You were a sad case.

Your boss was your secret obsession, the man who’d starred in your most delicious fantasies for far too long. 

But Henry would never take a second look at you romantically. 

You were doll-sized next to him, you’re too nerdy, too curvy, and too headstrong to be the kind of compliant arm candy that you heard he went for. You were destined to pine for your boss with the superhero looks, destined to be the sidekick in the romance of his life.

—---

Henry had been in torment for 14 months 12 days, and 7 hours, the moment you walked into his office for your interview. And he’d been in love with you for 14 months, 12 days, 6 hours and 45 minutes.

But he vowed that you should never know how he felt while sentencing himself to the daily torture of working side by side with you every day.

He tried to put you out of his head, but his favorite thing was to send you ahead of him to meetings and to fall in behind you on the long walk to the boardroom, your sumptuous ass giving him lots of spank bank material. 

Every night he went home to shower, fuck his hand, and paint the tiled wall with copious amounts of spend as he thought of the way you looked that day and your adorable little quirks: 

The faint smiles you gave him when you thought he wasn’t looking. 

How you nibbled on that fucking sexy bottom lip when you were deep in thought and gazing at him, or hunched over your laptop and typing away. 

The way that you walked, those tempting curves of yours that made him ache to throw you over his shoulder and have his way with you.

Henry had ordered you the finest oak desk that he could find during your first week on the job. The glass one in the office was fine, but would be a bit flimsy in the off chance that he should throw you over it and eat you out until his jaw was sore and until your voice grew hoarse from screaming his name.

You’d been the fire in his blood for the entire time he’d known you, and he couldn’t help himself from being irretrievably under your spell.

But instead of telling you that, for the last 14 months, he'd settled for every minute that he could wring from you for work, because there could never be anything more than that.

—---

This evening, Henry had stopped in your office doorway with menus for dinner, when he saw the flowers and crossed his arms over his huge chest.

Your eyes slid down his form, noticing how the sleeves of his crisp white button down strained around his biceps, the vest he was wearing highlighted the thick inverted triangle of his body, and his dark slacks hugged his muscular thighs. 

It should be illegal for him to look that fucking good, especially at this hour in the evening, on this night of love. You looked up at him, at his dark eyebrows drawn together over those piercing blue eyes, looking at the bouquet like it personally insulted him. 

Then he looked at you.

There was heat in his gaze, something that made your toes curl in your heels, and for a moment you were frozen. Damn, he was hot, especially when he was perturbed. 

"Who sent them?"

His deep voice was low and calm, but there was a dangerous edge to his sexy ass British accent. Goosebumps raised on your skin.

You were caught between confusion and a being flustered from direct attention from him. He usually avoided eye contact and more than a few grunts at a time, so this was new.

Henry was always intimidating, but tonight, he was also extra attractive, with his tie loosened, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark curls slightly messy as if he'd been running his hands through it.

Oh, and it didn’t help that his jaw was clenching and his blue eyes seemed to be burning.

"Excuse me?" you asked, keeping your voice as neutral as possible. 

You were tired, but there was a deadline to meet, despite the fact that this was a night for lovers. 

You two were the perfect pair to still be at work, because you were the furthest thing from romantics. You and Henry were workaholics, dedicated to your job, with no time for love.

Henry’s gaze flicked to the small card nestled between the flowers. 

You knew exactly what it said.

You are desirable. You are unforgettable. You deserve to be loved the way you love others.

A self-affirmation just for you. Something no one else was supposed to see.

But when Henry read it, he mistook the meaning.

"So who is he?"

His look was dark and his eyes were stormy, causing your stomach to drop.

"What?"

Henry’s fists clenched at his sides. 

"The person who sent these. The one who wrote you that." 

His voice dropped lower, like he was trying to hold back something. 

"Who. Is. He?"

You realized that he thought you had someone. And he sounded jealous. But that would be…

No. It was impossible. 

Your pulse became erratic with the thought

Henry was always particular: demanding, impatient, exacting. But he was also never unfair and never once let you fail. He always pushed you to be better and gave you glowing performance reviews, even when his actions conveyed that you were the most frustrating person on the planet to him.

You always assumed that he just tolerated you. That you annoyed him. But at the moment, he looked like a man barely holding himself together because he thought someone else had sent you flowers.

This was a development.

Before you could respond, Henry stepped closer to you. You tilted your head back to gaze up at him towering over you, broad and built like a damn brick wall. One that you wanted and needed to climb. 

"You didn’t answer me," he murmured, voice rough. Boy, those eyes could chill you to the bone.

"Why do you care?"

You were perturbed now, and it was clear in your response. 

Henry’s jaw ticked and something flashed in his eyes, there and gone too quickly for you to analyze.

“Careful, Little One.”

He’d never called you that, so you cocked your head with curiosity and watched as he sat on the edge of your desk, hiking his pants up on his legs, showcasing his massive thighs, and yes, the long, thick rod between them. 

Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes went wide, too surprised at his words and actions to pull the well-practiced mask over your features.

Henry caught you looking, but you didn’t catch the way his mouth hooked up in a half smile at your reaction. 

You licked your lips and watched as his hand moved slowly upward, until he was brushing his fingers over the petals of one of the roses. The act felt intimate, like he was imagining something else beneath his fingertips. 

Or maybe you were the one imagining.

“You deserve to be loved the way you love others," he repeated, more softly. 

He gazed at you, eyes blazing. 

"And you think this guy, whoever he is, can give you that?"

Your throat went dry. You should’ve just told him the truth. But you didn’t.

Because you knew he was jealous. And he was about to lose it. And you wanted to see what happened when he did. 

You chucked your chin up at him, a challenge.

"And what if he can?"

Henry knew he was pathetic because you were his employee, and he had no claim to you, no right to feel possessive at the thought of you with another man. 

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to track down the mutherfucker that sent you those flowers and beat him to a bloody pulp. And that didn't stop him from wanting to grab you and kiss you until you realized that you were fucking his. 

That you’d always been his, from the moment you first looked him in the eye.

The air between you crackled with energy as his entire body tensed as he stood up again, those massive hands curling into fists like he was restraining himself from something. His jaw flexed, his breath deepened, and he reached out for you, hand on your waist, drawing you in to press you against his very solid body. 

And then Henry’s mouth was on yours, hot and demanding and so fucking perfect that you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but give in.

You grunted in surprise as his full lips pressed on yours and his delicious tongue slid inside your mouth. All of your senses came alive in a cacophony of sight, taste, smell, and sound. And of course, touch.

You let yourself melt into his kiss, reaching up and tugging at the soft curls rioting over his collar, and then he pulled back, panting. His hand came up to wipe the moisture from your lips with his thumb, which he then inserted into his mouth and kept eye contact with you as he suckled his digit.

You imagined those lips doing the same to various points on your body and you nearly swooned, especially when he pulled his thumb out with a plop and then released you. 

Henry stepped back, baring his teeth in a dangerous smile. 

Your mind was scrambled, but you knew one thing for certain: Henry was attracted to you. Just as much as you were attracted to him.

Who would have thunk?

Henry adjusted his cuffs, highlighting those distracting veins on the back of his hands. He nodded at the flowers, then at you, a dangerous smile on his lips.

"Hope he’s ready to compete," he murmured, leaving you stunned.

“Get your coat, we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

And then he walked back into his office, leaving you staring after him, heart slamming against your ribs, lips feeling swollen and bruised from the kiss.

You had no idea what those flowers just unleashed in him. 

But you were about to find out.

——-

Today was your first day at Cavill Industries, the biggest technological company in the entire town. You were hired by Mr. Cavill’s people to be his new assistant, and were yet to meet him, but you really wanted to make a good impression. You showed up early, brought coffee and pastries, and went about organizing things for him. He had sticky notes everywhere that you decided to look over. There were meetings and tasks written on them that you kindly organized for him.

You’d brought a big calendar for his desk that you wrote all his meetings on before making a list of calls that needed to be return and tasks that needed to be completed. You’d go over them with him when he arrived to see which he wanted help with. You also went through his files on his desk and sorted them by date. When the door shut behind you, you nearly jumped out of your skin, not having heard anyone enter the room. You turned and caught sight of your new boss and had to quickly get a grip on yourself.

He was tall and handsome as hell. Chocolate brown curls, flaming cerulean eyes, a sharp jaw, and firm body. “Mr. Cavill?,” you questioned. “That’s what it says on the door doesn’t it?,” he said flatly. “Oh.. Um. I’m your new assistant. I’ve been in here organizing a bit, I hope you don’t mind,” you said as you introduced yourself. “I suppose not. I hope you haven’t done anything too off kilter. What is that smell?,” he said as he scrunched up nose. “Coffee? Pastries?,” you questioned motioning to both. “No,” he replied. “Okay,” you said.

“Did you need something else?,” he asked. “Just need to know if you need me to do anything for you,” you told him. “Nothing I can think of until I go over what you’ve already done. Just take my calls for now Mouse,” he said. “Mouse?,” you questioned. “You’re like a little mouse that’ll likely get eaten up around here, but perhaps not…,” he mused as his icy orbs roamed over you before he returned back to his work. You stood there frozen for a moment, not believing what you’d just heard before turning on your heels and walking out the door.

You didn’t realize your new boss was going to be such a cold bastard. It was only your first time meeting so you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, but damn had he gotten under your skin. Being he was your boss, you did as you were told. You took his calls, sending the ones through that he accepted, taking messages for the others.

Around lunch Mr. Cavill came out of his office. “Aren’t you going to go get something to eat?,” he asked. “I brought my lunch today Sir,” you replied. “Well go eat. Any calls can wait,” he said. “Did- was what I did this morning, the organizing, to your liking Sir?,” you asked uncertainly. “Yes. I’d like you to straighten up for me each morning like that. No more coffee and pastries though,” he said plainly before turning walking away. This man was going to give you whiplash, seriously. You went and had your lunch before returning to your desk.

The next four months things were about the same. You doing your best to work well and to Mr. Cavill’s liking, and him being cold and short with you. You didn’t understand what his problem was with you. Was it the pastries from the first day? You weren’t sure but it was driving you mad. You were a good assistant and you didn’t expect to be friends with him or anything but a little kindness would go a long way.

“Mouse,” he said from his door, snapping you out of your thoughts. You got up to see what he wanted, lingering in the doorway. “Well. Come in. Sit,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Oh,” you said as you made your way over to the chairs in the front of his desk. “Yes Sir? Did you need something?,” you asked. “Yes. I need you to organize these files very neatly, and at one I need you in a meeting with me to help with details from them. You’ve been going over them this past week, yes?,” he told you. “Yes Sir,” you replied. “Good,” he replied.

You sat there organizing them, trying to remember the important points. “C- could I highlight a few helpful points Sir? Would you be opposed to that?,” you asked. “Go ahead,” he said, handing you a highlighter. His finger brushed yours when he did so and you felt your heart accelerate. “What was that?,” he asked. “I’m sorry Sir, what?,” you questioned. “Never mind. I thought you said something,” he told you.

You sat there not realizing Mr. Cavill’s predatory gaze was set firm upon you. “Something wrong?,” you said when you looked up and saw him staring. You couldn’t help but notice how dark his eyes were. “Perhaps…,” he trailed off. You sat there expectantly. His eyes slid down, roaming over your throat and down to your breasts before he met your eye. You were sure at this point he could see your heart beating wildly at your pulse point. “You should be doing that faster Little Mouse, continue,” he said, never taking his eyes off of you. You had to stop yourself from making a sour face, but started back up nonetheless. You got it all done and left to go eat your lunch quickly before the meeting.

You met him in his office, gathering all the files for him. “Remember. These are important clients. Keep it professional. Help me where I need it,” he said as you two made your way to the conference room. “Yes Sir,” you replied. “You have a little something,” he said as he motioned to your mouth. You wiped at it and asked if you got it. “No. Here just- let me,” he said as he ran his thumb from the corner of your lip and across the bottom of it before brushing it against his pants leg. “There. Come on,” he said.

The meeting went off without a hitch and went the way Mr. Cavill had planned, which wasn’t surprising. After seeing him work, it didn’t seem like he was used to being told no. You were gathering things up when you were approached. “Hello miss. I’m Stuart Lockett. I haven’t noticed you here before,” he said. He was maybe mid thirties, tall, whiteish blonde hair and had green eyes brighter than any you’d ever seen. “Oh I’m Mr. Cavill’s assistant. I’ve only been here about four months now,” you said as you continued putting things back into your accordion filer.

“Hmmm. Well it was nice meeting you,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He went out the door with Mr. Cavill while you finished up. When you exited the conference room you heard the two of them talking. “Well if you don’t want her I’ll take her. She smells… delicious,” Stuart said as he made eye contact with you. “Fuck off Stuart,” Mr. Cavill replied. He looked terrifying to put it simply. The saying “if looks could kill,” didn’t even come close. Eyes full of anger, lips curled in a snarl, nostrils flared.

“Mouse. Come,” he said simply yet fiercely, still dripping with the anger coursing through him. You followed him quickly, a bit afraid of whatever the hell was happening here. You went into his office with him, shutting the door behind you and sitting the filer on his desk. “I- is everything alright Mr. Cavill?,” you asked meekly. “Does everything look alright Mouse? Nothing has been alright since you set foot in this fucking office,” he spat. “Excuse me?,” you said angrily. He looked at you in surprise.

“I’ve done nothing but try my best to work well for you. To make things more efficient and easier for you like any good assistant should. You’ve been nothing but short and cold with me. A total and complete ass if I’m being honest. If you don’t want me here I’ll gladly leave,” you said turning to walk out the door, but before you could reach it, he grabbed you by the arm and turned you to face him. He was mere inches away from your face and you could hardly breathe.

“Did I say I didn’t like your work? Hmm?,” he asked. You stared at him doe eyed, unable to form a response. “Did I, Mouse?,” he asked again. “N- no,” you stammered. “No,” he replied. “Well what’s the problem then, Sir?,” you managed. “The problem is you look and smell so fucking good that I want to throw you on top of this desk and fuck you senseless. Tasting every inch of you. Then I want to taste your blood,” he told you. “Taste my blood?,” you shouted. You looked and saw his fangs beginning to protrude from his mouth.

“Sir… What?,” you said as you scrunched up your face in confusion. “Would you let me Little Mouse? Would you let me have my way with you? I can smell your fear… but I can also smell your arousal, and it smells so good. I want to bury my face between your legs until you forget your own name, fuck you until you’ll want no other man but me. Tell me. Tell me I can have you,” he rasped. You were afraid but God where you turned on. Before you realized it you were nodding. “Yes, Mr. Cavill,” you told him.

He pulled you closer before running his lips down the side of your throat. His skin was like ice against yours and sent chills over your entire body, making you whimper. He reached your mouth and cover it with his lips. He groaned deeply, a satisfied sound from within before pulling back to look into your eyes. “I’ve wanted this so badly. It’s why I’ve kept you at a distance. I’m sorry,” he told you before kissing you again. He grabbed your hips and guided you over to his desk, your ass and the back of your thighs making contact with it.

He held your face in one hand while the other began opening the buttons of your blouse, his fingertips brushing over the globes of your breasts. He pulled away slightly to look. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Why are you s- so cold Mr. Cavill?,” you shivered. “Because I’m cold blooded Little Mouse. All vampires are,” he said as he shoved your shirt off. He removed your bra and groaned appreciatively at the sight of your breasts.

He kissed your lips, then across your jaw, and to your neck. He lingered there breathing you in. “I thought it was the pastries that day. The smell was so strong, but it’s you Mouse. You smell so sweet. So delicious,” he told you between kisses. You shuddered at his admission. “Hmm,” he chuckled before working his way down to your breasts. “Perky little tits of yours. Been wanting to touch them like this for so long now,” he said before running his tongue over your nipple, making you gasp. He gave the other the same treatment before laying you back on the desk.

He undid the button on your skirt before taking both it and your panties off in one swift movement. He placed your feet up on the desk and scooted your bottom to the edge, putting you on full display for him. He ran his hands down your thighs and up to your breasts and back before he fell to his knees. “That’s what I like to see. Absolutely soaked for me,” he said quietly.

He flattened his tongue against your slick cunt and swiped up to your clit. It felt so good your entire body jerked. He scooted you back to where he wanted you before lacing his fingers into yours. He wasn’t hurting you but you were locked tight into position with his inhuman strength. “Mr. Cavill,” you cried out as he suckled at your clit. “Tastes so fucking good,” he mumbled against you. He let one hand go, you promptly tangling it into his hair as he put two fingers inside of you. You mewled beneath him, as he curled them into you in just the right spot.

He pulled back to watch as he continued his ministrations with his fingers, kissing lightly at your thigh. He was panting, an animalistic look in his eyes as you came. That’s when he turned his head and sunk his teeth into the inside of your thigh. “Fuck,” you screamed. It stung but felt so good at the same time. The overwhelming feeling of the bite and his fingers taking you from a normal orgasm to a gushing one. Your pussy spraying all over him.

He didn’t let up, drawing it out for you and drinking more of your blood. Finally he pulled himself away, lapping at the fresh bite marks he’d made. “Couldn’t resist,” he said as he stood and began removing his clothes. You laid there whimpering feebly, drunk on the feeling of it all. When he was fully undressed you were able to take in his actual mass. He was huge all over, and you did mean all over. His ungodly girth stood against his stomach leaking precum and red at the tip. How a cold blooded person could get hard you didn’t know but you were past the point of being logical right now.

He moved in between your legs and let his cock slip over top your mound, making your eyes roll back. He reached your entrance, stroking himself a few times before pushing forward. He grabbed your thighs to brace himself as your tightness protested against the intrusion. You knew he was nowhere near fully sheathed but you felt like you were being torn apart. “‘S too big Mr. Cavill,” you cried. “You can take it,” he rasped before pressing forward.

Your entire body was trembling. “Come on Mouse. Open up for me. Need this. Need you so badly,” he strained. You exhaled trying to relax and came unexpectedly. “Fuck,” he keened. “Mmm,” you hummed. He reached down and rubbed your clit with his thumb while he kept easing in. Finally he was set. “Tight. So fucking tight,” he growled as his hips started moving but you weren’t ready. “Wait,” you gasped. “I- I can’t. I can’t. Feels too good Mouse. Please,” he begged. You nodded as tears ran down the side of your face.

He didn’t take long to pick up his pace, pain and pleasure rippling though your body. You grabbed your breasts, kneading at the flesh as Mr. Cavill throttled you. “Touch yourself for me Mouse,” he told you. You kept one hand on your breast and pressed the other to your clit before rubbing broad circles against it. “Yes. Such a good girl for me,” he said. You were moaning loudly, your orgasm quickly approaching. He pulled your leg up against his his chest, and kissed your ankle and calf. “I’m gonna come,” you gasped. He moved your hand away from your clit and brought your fingers to his mouth sucking on them for a taste.

Just as you tightened up he took you by surprise, spitting on your clit and slapping it. You moaned at the sensation as he did it again and again before squirting all over him a second time. “Oh shit,” you whined as he sped up. He ran his hand up to your shoulder and held you just there as he rutted into you. “You and this sweet little pussy of yours are mine. Mine, do you hear me?,” he growled with a breathtaking force. “Yours Mr. Cavill, all yours,” you told him. “Henry,” he said, as he snatched you up against him. “Henry,” you whispered as you clung to him.

He pulled you up off the desk and pressed you into the wall before kissing you with a passion you’d never felt before. “God you make me so hungry. Hungry for every part of you. It’s been like torture having you here with me and denying myself of you. Should’ve done this so long ago,” he told you. You nodded in agreement. Now having had him like this it was as if he was all that had ever been missing in your life.

“I’m so sorry for pushing you away. For making you wait sweetheart,” he professed. His words were so tender in comparison to what he was doing to you, and you let them wash over you, making you feel warm inside. “It’s okay,” you told him. He shook his head. “It is,” you said before kissing him. He kissed you eagerly before making his way to your neck. “Just one more bite?,” he questioned. “Whatever you want, it’s yours,” you told him.

He bit down at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The familiar sting washing over you and making your pussy convulse wildly. He began whining loudly against your neck as his cock became tense. “Mmm fill me up Henry,” you pleaded. He slammed into you one last time before his huge cock pulsed against your walls. He threw his head back as your blood ran down his chin. He was terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. The sight of him made you come again.

“Huh. Ha,” he husked. He licked the blood from his face before looking into your eyes. He eased out, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness taking over you. He set you on your feet, holding you close before kissing you languidly. He helped you back into your clothes before gathering his and putting them back on. “I meant it. You’re mine now,” he said as he took you in his arms. “I know. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied. He grinned widely before pulling you in for a kiss.

“Come on,” he said, taking you by the hand. “Where are we going?,” you asked. “I’m taking you home. I’ll cook you some dinner before… well before having mine,” he winked.

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