You take a slow sip, letting the warmth seep into you. The dogs rest at your feet, their heads on their paws, content to share this peaceful silence with you. You absentmindedly stroke one of their ears, grateful for their presence. In times like this, they’re a comfort, their quiet loyalty grounding you in a way you can’t explain.

But as much as you try to enjoy the stillness, your thoughts drift back to the same place they always do: him. Your husband James.

You remember the way he used to look at you when you first got married, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. And you remember how you used to feel when you looked at him—that rush of excitement, the certainty that this was it. But somewhere along the line, that feeling faded. Now, you look at him, and all you feel is… what?

You sigh, taking another sip. You wish you could pinpoint what changed, but it’s been so gradual, like sand slipping through your fingers. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s a good man. A good father. But every day feels like you’re going through the motions, like you’re living someone else’s life.

The coffee doesn’t taste as good as it used to.

Before you can dwell on the thought, you hear a faint sound from down the hall. Your son is awake. You place your mug on the counter and take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the day ahead. The peace is over now, but for a moment, it had been enough.

You turn to the dogs, giving them a small nod as if to say, Here we go.

And just like that, the day begins.

You walk softly down the hallway, pushing open your son’s door just as he’s beginning to stir. He’s sitting up now, blinking sleepily at the sunlight creeping into his room. The plush dinosaur is still in his hand, and he rubs his eyes with the other, taking a moment to orient himself. Mornings can be difficult—sometimes he resists the transition from sleep to wakefulness, and other times, like today, it’s a quieter start.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you say gently, stepping into the room. You keep your voice low and soothing, knowing he needs that softness to ease into the day. He doesn’t respond with words, but he gives you a small, sleepy nod, and you can tell he’s ready for you to help him with the next steps.

You move through the routine together, dressing him in his favorite shirt—the one with the dinosaurs on it, because today feels like a day where familiar comforts are important. He follows you into the bathroom, where you help him with brushing his teeth, guiding his small hands when he loses focus. You’ve been through this so many times, but still, some mornings feel like starting over.

His focus drifts, his eyes darting to the window as the sound of birds catches his attention, and for a moment, you let him stay there, in that moment of curiosity and calm. You cherish these small glimpses of him in his world, the way his mind works so differently from yours, full of colors and sounds that you can only imagine.

“Are you hungry, buddy?” you ask quietly, and he blinks again before nodding. He doesn’t say much in the mornings, but you’ve learned to read the subtle shifts in his body language, the way he tilts his head just slightly or the way his hands fidget with the hem of his shirt. It’s your secret language with him, one that doesn’t need words.

As you guide him to the kitchen, you hear the creak of the floorboards behind you and glance back. James stands in the doorway, his hair still tousled, a soft smile on his face.

“Morning,” he says quietly, his voice rough with sleep. He leans against the frame, watching as you move through the routine you’ve done a thousand times.

“Morning,” you reply, offering him a small smile in return. There’s something in his eyes that makes your chest tighten. He looks at you with a quiet gratitude, like he knows how much you carry but can’t quite find the words to say it. And in this moment, standing there in the soft morning light, you’re reminded of the man you fell in love with.

But even that reminder isn’t enough to fill the emptiness you feel.

He steps forward, ruffling your son’s hair affectionately. “How’d he sleep?” he asks, as if it’s just another part of the routine, something to check off the list.

“Pretty well,” you say, turning back to your son, who’s now seated at the table, waiting patiently for his breakfast. “It was a quiet night.”

“Good,” he says, but there’s something unsaid in the space between you, a lingering question he won’t ask, and you’re not sure you could answer even if he did.

At the kitchen table, J.J. swings his legs slightly as he waits. You can tell he’s focused, his eyes trained on the dinosaurs printed on his shirt, his fingers tracing the outlines as if he’s following a pattern only he knows.

“What would you like for breakfast today?” you ask, keeping your voice soft and measured.

He tilts his head, considering for a moment. “Pancakes,” he says, his voice quiet but clear. Some mornings, words come easily for him, like now, and it feels like a small gift every time. But you know the ease can fade, replaced by silence or frustration when the words don’t line up the way he wants.

“Pancakes it is,” you say with a smile, moving to the pantry. He watches you closely, his eyes flicking between you and the window, where the sun is still slowly rising.

As you gather the ingredients, your husband steps forward, pouring himself a cup of coffee. His movements are slow and easy, still waking up to the day. “Good choice, buddy,” he says. “You know I love pancakes too.”

Your son glances up, giving his dad a small smile, and for a moment, you feel a brief warmth in your chest. These little moments, when the three of you are together, feel almost normal. Almost.

You start making the pancakes, the familiar routine of it grounding you. J.J. stands up from the table, coming closer to watch as you pour the batter into the pan. He doesn’t say anything else, but his presence is enough. Sometimes, you think he communicates more with his silence than with his words.

“Do you want to help flip the pancakes?” you ask, glancing at him. He doesn’t respond verbally this time, but he nods, his eyes bright with interest. You guide his hands as he flips the pancake, your heart swelling with pride at how far he’s come.

Your husband leans against the counter, watching the two of you. “He’s getting good at that,” he says, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Better than me, probably.”

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does, and he’s just not saying anything. Either way, the unspoken things between you hang in the air like a weight that neither of you can lift.

After flipping the last pancake, you place the plate in front of your son. He immediately digs in, focused on the familiar comfort of his favorite breakfast. You take a moment to wipe your hands on a dish towel, glancing over at your husband, who’s finishing his coffee at the counter.

“Thanks for breakfast,” he says with a half-smile, setting his cup down and stretching. He’s still moving slow, his body heavy with sleep, but you know soon the day will pick up speed for both of you.

You lean against the counter, sipping your own coffee, and watch J.J. as he eats. His focus shifts between each bite and the view out the window. He’s in his own world now, quiet and content, and you’re thankful for the peaceful start to the day. Mornings aren’t always this easy.

“I should start getting ready,” James says, running a hand through his messy hair. He moves toward you, leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek. It’s a familiar routine. You feel the brush of his lips, but the warmth you once felt is faint, buried under layers of other things. “You too?”

You nod, placing your cup down and turning to the sink. “Yeah. I’ll just get him settled first.”

He glances at your son, who’s now stacking his silverware onto his empty plate neatly. “I’ll be quick, and then I can take over.”

You appreciate the offer, but you know the rhythm of these mornings well. You’ve developed a system, a way to move through the chaos without too many bumps, and sometimes it’s easier if you just handle it yourself. Still, you don’t say that. Instead, you nod again and give him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He disappears down the hall, and you take the plate from your son. “All done, buddy?”

He looks up at you, nodding but not saying anything. You can see the words hovering on the edge of his mind, but they’re not coming this time. You don’t push. You’ve learned to let him come to you when he’s ready.

“Let’s finish getting you ready for school,” you say, reaching for his hand. He takes it without hesitation, and together, you move through the familiar motions of helping him with his hair and packing his bag. The routine keeps things steady, predictable, and for him, that’s important.

By the time you’re finished, your husband is back, dressed for work and standing in the doorway of your son’s room. His suit is pressed, his tie straight, and he looks at you with— you don’t even know anymore. “I’ll drop him off today, if you want,” he offers, stepping into the room.

You pause, considering it. Normally, you handle drop-offs, a task that’s become almost sacred in its consistency. But today, something in James’ voice tells you he wants to be part of this morning, maybe more than usual. Maybe he’s noticed the space between you, the things left unsaid.

“Okay,” you agree quietly, handing him the backpack. He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours, and for a second, your eyes meet. There’s something there, something that lingers between you, but neither of you says anything. You wonder, not for the first time, if he feels the same emptiness you do.

“I’ll see you at dinner, then,” he says, breaking the moment, his voice steady. “Don’t work too hard today.”

“I’ll try,” you try to put warmth in your tone but it feels thin, stretched too tight over the weight of everything else. He doesn’t notice, or maybe he chooses not to.

As they head out the door, you’re left alone in the house, the silence returning. You finish tidying the kitchen in the quiet, your mind already shifting toward the day ahead, but the emptiness lingers in the background, a constant presence you can’t quite shake.

After they leave, the silence is almost overwhelming. The dogs have settled back into their favorite spots, and for a moment, you just stand there in the empty kitchen. You should be getting ready for work, but instead, you let yourself linger in the still, feeling the weight of the morning settle over you.

Eventually, you move to the master bathroom, stripping off your clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water hits your skin, and you close your eyes, letting the warmth wash over you. For a moment, it feels like everything could be okay—that maybe the heat could melt away the ache you’ve been carrying. But it doesn’t.

As the steam fills the room, you feel the tears welling up, unbidden. You don’t fight them. Here, in the privacy of the shower, no one can see. No one can ask what’s wrong. The water mixes with your tears, and you stand there, letting yourself fall apart in the only place you feel like you can.

You wonder how things got this far off course. How you went from being so in love with James, so sure of your life together, to this… this hollow routine where you barely even feel like yourself anymore. The love is still there, buried beneath everything else, but it feels distant, like something you can’t quite reach.

You think about the early days, how easy it all felt, how full of promise the future seemed. But now, it’s hard to remember when things started to shift. Was it when your son was diagnosed, when the constant worry and exhaustion set in? Or was it something else? Something between you and him, something neither of you can name?

You press your hands to your face, stifling a sob as the water beats down on you. It’s not just about your husband—it’s everything. The weight of being a mother, a wife, an employee, the constant pressure to hold it all together. And the worst part is that no one else seems to see it. On the outside, your life looks fine. Perfect, even. But inside, you feel like you’re falling apart.

After what feels like an eternity, you force yourself to breathe, to pull yourself together. You can’t stay in here forever. You have to get through the day. You reach for the soap, washing away the tears as if that alone could erase the heaviness in your chest. By the time you step out of the shower, you’ve already begun to put the mask back on.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, watching as you transform into the version of yourself that everyone else expects to see. The one who smiles at work, who talks about her family like everything is fine, who reassures everyone that she’s got it all under control. The mask slips on so easily now, you barely notice the moment when the real you fades into the background.

With a deep breath, you dress quickly, pulling your hair back into a neat ponytail. Your hands are steady as you apply a little makeup, just enough to hide the evidence of your tears. You’ve gotten good at this, at presenting your life as perfectly okay, even when it feels anything but.

By the time you walk out the door, you’ve become her again—the woman who has everything together, even when the cracks are just beneath the surface.

Your eyes are captivated by the clouds you pass. One sky, one trip, and countless cloud formations.

The clouds reminded you how far away you were from your real destination, and you could only remember how you got on his plane.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” you asked as you entered his office. He nodded and motioned for you to take a seat. “I have some important news to share with you,” he said. “We’ve just been awarded a large contract from a new client. There is a crucial business event next week that you must attend with me." Ari keeps typing on his computer without looking at you.

"I can't go," you say.  

Ari stops typing and looks up. "Why not?" he demands.

"I have my holiday, and I will be out of the country for a while."

“That is part of your job. You are expected to attend. You can pack up your things at the end of the day if you are unable to attend this business trip."

You look desperate in his eyes as you say, "My vacation was approved months ago." 

He pauses for a moment, then says, "I'm sorry, but this business trip is mandatory. You will have to postpone your vacation."

“I have given you access to my schedule. Do you mean you didn't read what was coming up? ” he asks in a dead tone. He is trying to point out that he had been clear with his scheduling and that it was your responsibility to be aware of what was coming up and plan accordingly.

As you leave Ari's office, you feel frustrated. You feel your heart sink as you think about all the time and money you’ve already spent preparing. You have been looking forward to this vacation for months, and now it seems like you will have to postpone it indefinitely.

Ari Levinson's name has become so familiar that nobody can escape it. He is a top influencer in the business world and is often a keynote speaker at industry events. His advice and insights are sought after by some of the most successful companies around the world. His reach is unparalleled, and he is an inspiration to many. 

From small startups to large corporations, Ari Levinson has been able to make an impact on nearly every sector. His success story is one that continues to be shared and celebrated as he continues to break boundaries in the business world. It would make many human bodies swoon to gaze into his lustful blue eyes. He is a true testament to the power of ambition and hard work.

Ari is a role model for entrepreneurs and business professionals who are looking to make a difference. His story is an inspiration to many who aspire to greatness. 

Ari Levinson is an icon.

However, you see the rude, uncaring, sexy heartless boss.

He often puts profits before people and shows zero regard for those he works with. His attitude contrasts starkly with his public image.

You and the hot silver fox icon are stuck in Switzerland in a cabin alone. This was supposed to be your vacation since he told you that you had to join him. You were supposed to be at the beach enjoying the sun with a drink in your hand in the Bahamas, not sitting next to a fireplace freezing your behind off.

You turn to him and ask why he dragged you here.

A mischievous glint appears in his eye as he tells you that success in this world comes from working until you can earn money while you sleep. "And I intend to show you just how to do that," he says with a smirk.

In the end, you will never be able to recall the wisps of a dream because he took a weekend full of sun and pleasure from you, and now you are flying into the cold.

He stands tall, proud of his body, gazing out the window, letting the cold winter air fill his lungs. His muscles tense up as he takes a deep breath in, his eyes focused on the horizon. He is ready to take on whatever the night might bring.

His eyes are shut tight as he savors the warmth of the fire. His feet are planted firmly on the ground as his hands reach for the stars. He is in his own world as he basks in the glory of the fire.

He takes another deep breath and turns back to the fireplace, determined to make it up to you. He adds a few more logs to the fire, watching the orange and yellow flames flicker against the night sky. He knows that he would do anything to make you happy, and he hopes that you will forgive him. He smiles, content in the knowledge that at least he tried.

Little did you know, the silver fox had an ulterior motive for bringing you to Switzerland. 

A smile spreads across his face as he watches you relaxing in a hot tub, washing away the stress of your long day. Clearly, he pushed you to the limit and saw your not-so-subtle eye rolls during the flight. He knows he has been too harsh on you, but he wants to ensure you succeed with him.

He lingers around your body tonight as he writes your name next to his.

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself sink deeper into the warm water, feeling your muscles relax with every step. If you can’t be in the sun, this is the closest you can get to feeling warm all over your body. The hot water embraces you with comforting warmth like a hug from a friend. You stay in the hot tub for as long as you can, allowing yourself to forget the stress of the day and simply enjoy the peace. Your boss has always made sure you don’t have a social life beyond being his personal assistant.

You have been trying to find a respite from the stress of the man's presence, and the soothing sound of the bubbling jets and the gentle hum of the motor are just what you need. The sound of his voice, however, is enough to break the illusion and bring you back to reality.

"Mr. Levinson, I don’t start until tomorrow morning. I am enjoying my free time. I need to relax, please," you say softly and finally put down your foot. It‘s time for you to relax after he stole your time off.

"Sweetheart, I apologize if I appeared harsh to you earlier this week, but you need to understand."

“I know! But let me relax tonight," you plead.

You sigh and open your eyes and stare at him with shock.

His desire for your body will reveal where his electric current resides.

When he opens the white robe's string with his strong hands, your heart races. He pulls it open, revealing his exquisite figure. You can't help but gasp in surprise. He suppresses a smile and nods. 

"Would you like some company ?” His sculpted arms flex as he reaches for the wine, and for a moment, you can’t take your eyes off him. He smirks, knowing his effect on you. He pours one glass of wine. You feel electricity between you, and you can tell he feels it too. 

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. 

You can't help but stare, unable to take your eyes off him. 

You feel an overwhelming urge to touch him, to have him touch you. 

You feel a tingling sensation throughout your body as he stands in front of you, exposing himself to you.

As he dips into the hot tub, you can see the water wavering around him and towards you. He slowly submerges himself in the water, letting out a sigh of relief as his tension and stress slowly melt away. The steam rises slowly around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. 

You can't let your attraction to your boss get in the way of your job. But as he leans in closer, you feel yourself getting lost in his piercing gaze. Suddenly, the room feels too small and too hot. You try to focus on anything but him - the painting on the wall, the clock ticking away - but it's no use. Your mind keeps drifting back to him and how badly you want to give in to this forbidden passion.

Your breath comes out nervously as he floats closer to you. 

"Wine?” Taking a sip of his wine, he closes the distance.

"I don't have a glass," you mumble nervously as he invades your space.

You hold your breath as he draws closer, hovering his lips over you. You feel your heart racing as you close your eyes and wait, anticipating a kiss. He pulls away, leaving you disappointed and flustered. 

Then he nods at you to drink from his wine glass and slowly places it near your lips. You hesitantly sip, feeling the wine's warmth spread through your body. 

Drops of wine drip from your lips, and he touches your neck with his finger to stop them from falling further. "Drink more, Princess," he urges. He leans in again, trailing kisses down your neck and sending shivers down your spine. 

You feel nervous and excited as your heart races for a kiss. You take another sip of wine to steady yourself, noticing how his fierce azure eyes darken with desire.

He reaches for the bottle and pours more wine over your body. His hands caress your skin as he moves the bottle along, letting the cool liquid slide down your skin. His lips follow the path of the wine, leaving you trembling in anticipation.

One kiss will ignite all this, which will light my darkest fire for your body

He leans in and captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

The taste of wine on his lips is intoxicating as he takes another sip of you. 

When his lips touch yours, a wave of passion washes over you. You feel the warmth of his breath. You get lost in the moment, the world around you fading away. As the wine lingers on your tongue, it mixes with the taste of him. He deepens the kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you as he pulls you closer. The heat between you is palpable and electric, making every nerve in your body come alive.

He smiles and whispers in your ear "Let's make tonight one to remember" You can feel a shiver down your spine as you nod. 

Your new sweet obsession is his warmth, his smile your lust, his kisses your obsession 

"I know you're a good girl; you're going to do everything I say, aren't you?" he breathes deeply over your exposed neck. You nod, unable to form any words. 

A smile spreads across his face as he lowers his hands under the water and covers your pussy. "Princess, use your words." 

You let out a whimper, "Yes, Sir." He chuckles, pleased with your response, and kisses your neck again. His hands explore further as his grip tightens around you.

“My girl," he murmurs softly. "Do you know how hot you are? How insane you drive me? I can barely contain myself. I want you so badly," he whispers in your ear. 

His lips move down your neck, and his hands travel all over your body, exploring and caressing your curves. 

The words he whispers to you stir something in you as his lust rages inside.

"You have such a slutty little mouth," he murmurs against your ear, holding you still with one hand against your throat and the other under the hot water rubbing against your pussy. "I'm sure you're tight as hell. I'm looking forward to hearing the sounds you make as you stretch around my dick. Princess, I promise to let you feel every inch of my cock"

Against his fingers, you grind, your eyes closing as you're enthralled by the kisses he leaves across your jaw and neck.

You feel him slide his thumb across your skin before sweeping it across your clit. As he moves his finger gently inside you, you can feel the movement of the water.

The sensation of his hands touching you, and watching his face as he does so, is intoxicating. You want more of it. He moves his fingers in circles inside you, sending pleasure waves through your body. But he stops when you explode, teasing you. More of him, whatever he can do, is what you need.

It's more of his filthy words and thick fingers.

Put his passion for you into words through his touch

The air blows on your pussy while he holds onto your thighs. You feel the cool air of the night on your skin as you try to focus on your boss' words. 

It never occurred to you that you would be in this situation. You are lying on the floor next to the fireplace, naked in front of your boss, and the firelight enlightens the room. You were left to find comfort in the heat radiating from the floor, the only warmth you had after your swimsuit was carelessly discarded.

As you try to piece together the events leading up to this moment, your boss leans over and whispers against your pussy. 

He kisses you there, a slow sweep with his tongue from bottom to top, ending with sucking your clit between his lips. You grip the rug cover end in your fists and try not to grind your pussy toward his face. 

There's something about the way his tongue feels so freaking warm and soft. Then there's the way the scruff on his beard feels against it. It's lightly abrasive, and you're overwhelmed by the mix of sensations. You moan as you move closer, wanting to get close as possible. 

"My Princess has a wet pussy, doesn't she? Want me to play with it? Stick my fingers in it? Maybe later, she can welcome my dick?" Using the tip of his finger, he runs it around your pussy, then slaps it and puts you on edge. “You're so sensitive." His voice echoes in the room, satisfied that you're affected by him.

You moan. "Sir, You're teasing me."

He chuckles and leans in closer, his breath tickling your pussy. "I'm not teasing. I'm just trying to make you feel good." 

You hold your breath and scrunch your eyes shut as he exhales and laughs. "You can relax, Princess." He leans closer, his breath tickling your thighs. "It's just me." He pulls away, a smirk on his face. As he bites softly on the sides of your thighs, his gaze drifts to your pussy. "It's going to be a long night," he says softly.

Your hands clench in his salty pepper hair, and you shift your hips, intoxicated by his mouth on you.

I felt a deep sense of pleasure flowing with each kiss of lustful attention.

It is as if your soft sounds, your delicate moans, pull him deeper inside, just like the swell and the throb in his cock.

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He had to have you, all of you. The way your body moved and responded to his touch drove him wild with desire. He wanted to explore every inch of your skin, taste every part of you. Your innocence only made him want you more, to be the one who initiates you into a world of pleasure that only he can provide. As he plunges deeper inside you, he feels like he is finally complete.

"Fuck, this slutty pussy is begging for my cock," he says, slapping your thighs while your muscles clench around him, teasing you.

He grabs your hand and guides it over his body - smooth, warm, and inviting. His eyes are locked on yours, and you can feel his desire radiating from him. You can't help but feel a wave of pleasure wash over you.

He smiles despite the tension near his eyes, as though waiting for your response. "Tell me how this feels. How does my cock feel inside of you?" You bite your lip and moan softly. 

He slides his hips back and forth, pushing deeper and deeper into you.

You can feel his hardness pulsing and stretching you, and your pleasure builds with every thrust. "I feel like you're breaking me, but I'm full, hot, and - so alive, Ari. I need more, please." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's enough to make him shiver with desire. He leans down to capture her lips again, deepening your connection and losing himself in the sensations you bring out in him.

He slides his hips back and forth, pushing deeper and deeper into you. You moan in pleasure as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. He pulls out and then thrusts back in, pushing you over the edge as you reach your climax.

You moan into his mouth as he begins to thrust, your body arching and trembling with each stroke as he moves faster and faster. His strong hands grip your hips tightly as he drives into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He pulls away and whispers in your ear, “Do you know why I hired you, Princess.” 

You look into his eyes, your body still shaking from the pleasure he had brought you. You gasp and whisper back, “No, why did you hire me?”

He smiles and pulls you close, kissing you deeply. “Because you are the most talented, and I always hire the best.”

The smug grin on his face lights up as he kisses your neck and shoulder, his fingers now playing with your nipple. His pace slows as your body begins to revive itself. The tip of his nose trails up your neck and shoulder as he marks your skin. "I knew from the moment I saw you that you were special. Your pussy had to be special to take my cock." His voice is hoarse and filled with desire, and his breathing heavy as he whispers these words into the air, emphasizing the power of his feelings for you.

"You're doing so well for your CEO, Sweetheart," he whispers, his lips against yours. "We have all week to explore every aspect of your performance." 

You run a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Ari - I?" A second orgasm hits you before you can even speak, and your whole body tenses against him. 

You are his, so he owns everything about you 

As your climax approaches, Ari whispers, "You're mine." His hands press against your skin sending shivers down your spine. He leans in and kisses you again. "Mine," he repeats when the first spasm of pleasure makes you shudder and throw your head back. 

All that is audible are his grunts as he takes control of your body with each thrust. 

It was Ari's dirty secret that there was no conference; instead, he will keep himself warm by being inside of you for the entire week.

He knows you won't mind it.

This weekend is a winter storm, and he knows you'll need him to soothe your body and make you moan. This weekend, Ari is ready to wrap himself around you and provide the warmth and comfort you desperately crave; he will be your source of comfort in the midst of the storm. His skin is soft and inviting, begging you to let him into your heart for a moment of pleasure together.

As you hold each other, the world outside freezes away - it's just the two of you in this heat.

Your body ached, curved, and was drenched. It embraced him.

Heat creeps up the back of your neck at his praise, and equally mortified at its inappropriate undertone. Ari’s never said anything to or around you that’s crossed the line of professionalism, but you’ve heard rumors, office gossip. You know that you’re the fourth assistant he’s had in six months, and the word on the street is he seduced them and then paid them off to go away. All hearsay of course.

“I was just making sure you were making time to relax,” he tells you as he stands into a big stretch, his shirt riding up over his swim trunks, gifting you a glimpse of a small patch of hair under his navel. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner,” he turns to leave, taking a step before turning back to you. “And no more work. I mean it.”

You feel good, giggling a little too long at a coworkers dad joke, but you didn’t care. Besides, Ari did say he wanted you to relax, and boy, do you feel relaxed. The nerves you had walking into the dining room have disappeared, replaced with a warmth in your belly that only a delicious glass of red wine could give- or three.

Ari’s been stealing glances at you throughout dinner but you can’t read his face. He seems fine, laughing and engaging in conversation with those seated around him but when he looked at you it was with an insatiable hunger that you’ve never seen before, like he could devour you for hours and enjoy every minute. The thought alone made a spark tingle down your spine and settle in your throbbing core, but you knew better. He was your boss, and you weren’t going to be the next round of break room conversation.

The evening flowed on until you found yourself savoring a bite of the molten lava cake you ordered for dessert, pairing it with an espresso martini your server suggested when you felt a hand brush against your back. Ari was crouched at your side, his blue eyes intense as you hastily swallow a bite of cake.

“I think you’ve had enough.” His eyes dart to the half full martini glass before settling back on you. “Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

Not breaking eye contact you reach for your martini, bringing it to your lips and taking a generous sip. You don’t understand him. First he scolds you for working too much, and now he’s scolding you for having fun? Finishing the last of your drink in one gulp you get a rush of liquid courage, reaching out and poking Ari in his chest.

“I don’t understand you!” you hiss, your fuzzy mind telling you that leaning into Ari could knock him off balance giving you some space. But of course, you were no match for your broad chested boss. “You tell me I’m working too much on this work retreat so I stop. You tell me I need to relax so I relax! Seems like you don’t know what you want, so you should figure that out!”

Ari’s eyes widen, his eyebrow raising to his hairline before he breaks into a low chuckle. “Oh I know what I want, sweetheart,” he quips. “I think you need to admit to yourself what you want, or should I say who.”

There’s that look again, the one that makes your breath hitch and your walls clench. His eyes appear darker than usual as they do a sweep of your body. Your head is swimming and you need air, or at least to separate yourself from the heady cloud of desire that Ari’s trapped you in.

“I- I have to pee.” Standing and pushing past Ari and out of the restaurant to the adjacent ladies restroom. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel like you're on fire, from the alcohol most likely, or was it Ari? Turning on one of the taps you wet our palm, dabbing water against your neck to cool yourself down. He’s your boss, you’re not crossing that line, you don’t care how handsome he is. You have plans for yourself, for your career. This assistant position was only a stepping stone, you’ve worked hard there’s no way you’re going to jeopardize your career over a fling with your boss.

Once you’ve gotten yourself together you hang a right towards the elevators coming out of the bathroom instead of left. You’ll figure out an explanation to your colleagues before breakfast tomorrow morning. You’re rounding the corner to your salvation when you slow your gait, the height of his recognizable frame almost bringing you to a stop.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright sweetheart,” He muses, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “You got up in such a hurry and I was worried.” Rolling your eyes you press the button for the elevator, waiting in awkward silence, you wouldn’t dare look at him.

The elevator dings, and the doors begin to slide open. Before you can step inside, Ari swiftly moves in, joining you in the confined space. You press the button for your floor, and he chuckles softly, his eyes meeting yours. “You know, we’re actually going to the same floor,” he says with an amused smirk.

The elevator ascends, and with each passing floor the tension grows between you. The close proximity only intensifies the pull you feel towards him, making it even harder to maintain your professional resolve.

As the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open you step out, relief washing over you. The line between professional and personal has never felt so blurred, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t going to be the end.

Glancing at the room numbers along the hallway you search for your own. To your surprise and growing unease you realize that not only are you and Ari on the same floor, but they are also right next to each other.

Ari notices your reaction and grins. “Looks like we’re neighbors,” he remarks, clearly amused by the situation.

You swallow hard, feeling a sense of dread mingled with the underlying attraction you can’t shake off. Ari leans against the doorframe of his room, watching you with a look that’s hard to decipher. “Well, it could be convenient,” he suggests, the double meaning not lost on you.

Forcing a smile, your mind races with the implications of this newfound proximity. “I guess we’ll see,” you reply cautiously, not wanting to encourage any further advances.

He nods, understanding the unspoken boundaries you’re trying to establish. “Goodnight,” he says softly, stepping back to enter his room.

“Goodnight,” you echo, grateful for the chance to finally escape the tension-filled atmosphere.

As you unlock your door and step inside, you can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Being next door—and connected—to Ari’s room adds a new layer of complexity to the already complicated dance you’re doing with your boss.

You sigh with content to finally be back in your room, your temporary sanctuary away from home. As you get ready for bed, you can’t shake the lingering presence of Ari from your mind.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a professional distance, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to him. His confidence, his charm, the way he effortlessly commands attention— it’s all incredibly enticing. As much as you try to push these thoughts away they persist, fueling a desire that you know is risky and potentially damaging to your career.

Going through your nightly routine, you eventually slip into your pajamas, the satin fabric feeling cool against the heat of your skin. Sitting on the edge of the bed, your thoughts begin to wander. The memory of his cologne, his eyes following your every move, the magnetic pull you felt in the elevator- they all combine to create a potent mixture of attraction and longing.

Leaning back you spread your legs and slip your hand into the waistband of your shorts. Imagining your fingers are his as they spear between your soaked folds, biting your lip to stifle a moan when those same fingers circle your clit.

Just as you’re about to rip your shorts off to give yourself better access, a knock echoes through the room jolting you from the fantasies of your self-pleasure. Quickly, you get yourself together before unlocking and opening the door to see a sweatpant clad only Ari standing behind it.

“May I come in?” His voice is low and gravelly. You nod, stepping aside to let him into your space, the door clicking in place behind him. A shiver ripples down your spine as his presence consumes you.

Ari moves closer to you, his eyes never once leaving yours. The tension is thick between you, and as he closes the gap between your bodies he wraps a hand around the back of your neck, and you close your eyes, savoring the touch of his skin against yours. But just as you think he’s going to kiss you, he pulls away. “Kneel,” he commands, his voice firm and unyielding.

You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by his change in demeanor. But the fire in his eyes was impossible to ignore, and you find yourself sinking to your knees in front of him.

Ari loosens the tie at the front of his sweats, letting his pants fall to the ground. His cock springs free, hard, thick, and leaking. You can’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Open your mouth,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. You do what you’re told, parking your lips wide. Ari’s cock slides across your tongue, and you close your lips around him, taking him in deep.

Ari groans, his fingers tangling into your hair as he begins to thrust. Moaning around him your own arousal begins to build as he grows even harder in your mouth. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and it’s all you can do to fight the urge to gag.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and harder. “Take it all you little slut.”

A surge of pleasure zips through you at his words, and your cunt clenches with need. Reaching down you rub your clit through your shorts. You’re so sloppy your juices are staining the fabric.

Ari’s thrusts become erratic, his breathing ragged. You can tell he’s close, and you brace yourself for this impending release. With a grunt his cock twitches and he shoots his thick cum on your tongue and down your throat. You swallow greedily, relishing in the salty tang of his release.

Ari isn’t done with you yet. He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still hard. “Stand up,” he tells you, and although it’s on shaky legs, you do as he says and rise to your feet.

He pushes you down on the bed, lifting your ass up with one hand and yanking your shorts down with the other. Spreading your legs wide he dips his head between your thighs and his tongue wastes no time finding your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers sliding inside of you. Your back is arching off the bed the closer you get to shattering.

Just as you’re about to come, Ari pulls away. He stands up, his cock glistening with your spit and remnants of his cum you didn’t get to swallow. “Beg for it,” he says, his eyes glinting in the lowlight.

“Please,” you gasp, and you can hear how desperate you sound. “Please Ari. Please fuck me.”

Ari grins, motioning you to scoot further back on the bed. He positions himself between your open legs, and he slides into your cunt in one thrust. You cry out as he bottoms out, digging your nails into his shoulders as he begins to move. His thrusts are hard and fast, each sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Wrapping your legs around him you meet him thrust for thrust. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your moans growing louder as Ari deconstructs you.

“Come for me,” he growls, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles around your bud, his thrusts growing even faster and harder. You explode, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your body is shaking, and you feel yourself coming apart. Ari follows you over the edge, his own release triggering another wave of pleasure.

Both of you collapse on the bed, bodies slick with sweat. Ari wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and you can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

For a moment you lay there, your breathing slowly returning to normal. But as the reality of what you’ve done sets in, you feel a twinge of guilt. You’ve slept with your boss, and you have no idea what it’s going to do to your career, and more importantly your reputation.

But as Ari’s fingers trace patterns along your skin, you can’t bring yourself to care. You’ve never felt so alive or so desired. And for now, that’s enough.