Darius
Running my hand through my hair, mentally cursing my personal assistant, I can’t help but dream of petty retribution for this hell she’s designed for me. I pride myself on being a fair boss. My company offers competitive benefits and vacation time and above industry standard salaries. But apparently that’s not enough anymore. Nope. Now we have to be social. Fucking family day.
I suppose it’s my fault, really. I told her to organize it and not bother me with any of the details, to just tell me when and where. Fucking stupid. Now here I am, standing under a fucking balloon arch, holding a bottle of water I wish was a scotch on the rocks, greeting employees I barely even recognize. Counting down the hours until I can make my escape from the frivolity and head back to my home office in my quiet penthouse, I check emails on my phone, barely hearing someone say my name.
I’m lost in an email, another fire I’ll have to put out when I’m able to actually get work done later today. A throat clears, and I glance up, ready to tear the person a new one for daring to interrupt me. A short, balding man with a pronounced paunch stands before me, a smile pasted on his face. “Mr. Slater, sir. Ted Jensen.” He sticks his hand in my direction, but I just smileand nod. His hand drops, and he moves aside. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Ivy.”
My jaw clenches to stop a groan as I see a delicate blonde behind him, standing in front of me, looking down at her phone. When she looks up at me with bright, ice blue eyes, she gasps and my fist clenches to keep from reaching out for her, taking her to the nearest bed and fucking her raw. She’s fucking perfect. “Ivy, this is my boss…”
“Darius Slater,” I interrupt, wanting her to hear my name from my own lips. I thrust my hand out to her, anxious to feel her soft skin against my palm. After a moment, her hand disappears into mine, my fingers closing around her wrist, feeling her pulse accelerate. She stares up at me, her full lips parted, breathing shallowly.
“Well, we better be going,” Ted’s annoying voice interrupts our hungry exchange. “I want to introduce Ivy to some of the team.” I can’t stop the growl that escapes me when Ted’s hand comes to rest on Ivy’s slender shoulder and I see his fingers flex. He quickly drops his arm and turns to walk away.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Slater,” Ivy says quietly, turning to follow her father, her fingers sliding through mine until the heat of her hand is a ghost on my palm.
The rest of the day flies by, employees introducing themselves frequently, names forgotten before they saunter off to talk to coworkers. I make sure to always keep one eye on Ivy. I move closer to her a few times, listening to her conversations with kids her age.Fuck. Kids her age? How old is she? Is she legal? Do I even care at this point? I fucking need her.I want to learn everything about her.
In my thirty-eight years I’ve never allowed myself to need anyone; growing up in foster care cemented my independent nature early on. I like my solitude, and never really considered having a family. I have a list of women who know the deal thatI can call when I need a release, but even they haven’t been necessary lately. And they never will be again. Not now that I’ve found Ivy. She will be mine. No matter what it takes.
Ivy
Amonth before graduation, dad was diagnosed with arterial blockage, so he’s been on a special diet that isn’t available at the office cafeteria. I’ve been bringing his lunch every day since graduation, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of Mr. Slater.
Walking into the office building, I feel eyes on me, watching but not threatening. It’s the same feeling I had when I walked across the stage and received my high school diploma last week. The same feeling I get when I go out with my friends, to the mall, or take Pudge, my Pug, for a walk around the neighborhood. But, like all the other times, I don’t actually see anyone watching me.
Calling the elevator, I take my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through social media waiting for it to arrive. When a ding announces its arrival, I enter and push the button for my dad’s floor, laughing at a video of a parrot saying fuck you on repeat. When the elevator stops and the door opens, I walk out of the car and straight into a solid wall of warm muscle, falling toward the floor when a strong hand grabs my arm and pulls me against him.
I look up with a gasped apology, my eyes going wide at the gorgeous man in front of me, muscles on display in a tantalizingform-fitting suit. As our eyes meet, I can’t help wondering if I’ll ever get used to the sight of my father’s boss. Darius Slater is the type of man who owns every room he walks into, a true alpha. It’s impossible to not be affected by his magnetic presence. His features are perfectly cut, reminiscent of a Greek statue, his bulging muscles immediately making me feel safe.
His dark, wavy hair is slicked back, dark beard closely trimmed, giving him a distinguished air. Fine streaks of silver starting at his temples are the only sign of his age. I feel an urge to run my hands through it to see him messy. I’ve secretly lusted after him since the first time I saw him two years ago, my obsession only growing stronger since officially meeting him at family day, knowing nothing would, or ever could, come from my crush.
“I’ve got you, Ivy.” His words are a low growl, immediately making my core tingle with desire. His eyes flare with heat when a soft moan escapes my lips. He continues to hold me close to his body, making it difficult for me to separate reality from the fantasies I’ve had about him.
“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. Slater,” I stammer, moving in his arms, trying to move away from him before my body betrays me. “I-I think I’m okay now.” His arms relax around me, still holding me, but allowing me to step back enough to search the floor for the bag I had been holding. Seeing it beside us, I leave his arms, bending to grab it, and hear a hiss behind me, feeling my short skirt rising before I can straighten up.
“Than-“ standing, ready to thank Mr. Slater for his assistance, my voice trails off at his quickly retreating back. My brow furrows, wondering what I did wrong to send him scurrying down the hallway. Running through the events of the past few minutes, I make my way carefully to dad’s office.
“There’s my girl,” he says as I knock on his door and walk into his office without an invitation. I sit in the hard chair acrossfrom his messy desk, cringing as he spreads his lunch over unorganized stacks of paper, and begins to eat quickly. “Mmm, this is delicious, Ivy,” he says between bites.
On my way out of his office, the feeling of being watched returns. I glance around looking for eyes on me, secretly hoping it’s Mr. Slater, but, like usual, I don’t see anyone. A messy boy pushing a cart of mail is walking down the hallway coming toward me. I offer a friendly smile and he pushes the cart in front of me, cutting off my escape.
“Hi, I’m Jimmy. And who might you be?” He asks with a nod of his jaw, his unpleasant brown eyes raking over my body.
“I’m Ivy,” I answer flatly, trying to be pleasant without inviting his attention. “And I’m just on my way out. Excuse me.” I try to walk past, but he steps in my way, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.
“I haven’t seen you around here before. You’re hot. You wanna go out sometime?” His question isn’t uncommon, I get asked out a lot, and I always turn them down, waiting for someone else, as improbable as it may be.
Darius
Ihate myself for running away like a little bitch. But the temptation of Ivy’s sexy ass covered in minuscule black silk was too much for me to resist and I’ll be damned if I take her for the first time in the hallway where anyone could see what’s mine. I dive into my office, barely taking the time to yell at my secretary that I’m not to be disturbed and lock the door behind me, before I’m unzipping my pants and dropping into my chair, firmly stroking my already rock hard cock to thoughts of my sweet Ivy.
My hips pump up, driving my cock into my fist, imagining it’s Ivy’s tight, wet pussy strangling my length, my ragged breath groaning out her name. “Fuck. Fuck, yes, babygirl. I’m coming,” I pant, moving my hand up and down my pulsing shaft. “Ivy,” I sigh as I feel my hot cum tightening in my balls, the tingling at the base of my spine signaling my fast-approaching orgasm. "Mmm, I’m so close, babygirl," I moan, my hand tightening, hips pumping. "Ivy," I sigh as I feel my hot cum explode from my tip, landing on my shirt and hand. "Fuck."
Grabbing a tissue, I wipe the evidence of my fantasy away quickly, flushing it down the toilet in my private bathroom. Returning to my desk, hoping I can actually focus and getsomething accomplished today, I curse when my hand smears a large droplet of cum over a report I’d been working on earlier.
My fascination with Ivy has quickly transformed into an obsession. I’ve spent hours learning everything I can about my woman. It’s not an invasion of privacy; she’s mine and I want to be prepared to give her what she needs before she knows she needs it.
Luckily, I’m a powerful bastard and very few people have the balls to go against me when I want something. Ivy’s doctor was hesitant to share her medical history with me, but agreed that it was in the best interest of his career to do so anonymously. The pharmacist where she fills her prescriptions flat out refused to change her birth control pills to a placebo, despite my threats. So, she was transferred to a different pharmacy. And a different country.
