Rune said nothing. She knew she couldn't win.
Dorian flipped open the Zurich file, finally releasing her from the voodoo of his gaze, and started scanning numbers and projections with precise efficiency. Rune stood still and silent, waiting as he had trained her. But today, she didn't quite disappear into the corner like she usually did. It was like someone had dropped a stone in a still lake and they were feeling the ripples still.
He noticed. His gaze lifted slowly and deliberately.
Dark eyes, so dark they'd earned the nickname among competitors and colleagues alike – demon eyes. They gave nothing away. Unreadable. Depthless. An abyss behind the sunlit mess of blond curls and deceptively casual charm.
The contrast made people underestimate him. But only once.
"Come here," he said, still not looking up.
She obeyed. She always did without question. But he didn't miss the slight hesitation.
Rune stepped forward, her beautiful face carefully neutral but there was a strange tension in her shoulders. She wore calm like armour, but he could sense the hairline fracture beneath it now. The faintestpull around the corner of her mouth. A strain she couldn't quite hide. He could read her tells as if he had written a book on the subject.
"Closer", he purred.
He waited until she was a hair’s breadth away. Then he closed the file like he had all the time in the world and looked up, inky eyes boring into hers.
Dorian stood up and took a step back.
"Face the table," he said in a deceptively soft voice.
She seemed to hesitate before obediently turning to face the table, her hands shaking on the sides.
"Hands on the table. Bend forward," he whispered into her neck.
She obeyed as she had been taught.
She listened to the sound of him unzipping, followed by the sound of a wrapper being ripped. She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard enough to bleed. Then she felt him pull her skirt up and, in a casual move, pull her panties down. His shoes tapped the inside of her pumps, widening her stance.
Then, she felt his warmth through the layers of cloth against her back and the press of the flared crown of his cock as he guided himself to her opening, forcing her on tiptoes.
He found it unerringly, and one hand came around to cup her belly as he pushed forward, while the other braced against the table. She was dry, and it hurt. But he took it slow, moving in and out until she began to moisten around him, and slowly it became bearable. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he sped up, pumping in and out. Until he pushed all the way in, she felt him pulse inside as he came. Within seconds, he pulled out, and she heard the snick of the condom beingtied off and dropped in the bin. He didn't make a single sound throughout the whole encounter.
"Cover yourself," he said in the same emotionless voice he used when talking to the accountant.
She hurried to pull her panties up while pushing her skirt down. As she turned, he caught her shoulder and turned her to face him. A well-shaped index finger caught the tear that slid down her cheek. He brought it to his lips like she had produced a delicacy.
"You're slipping, Rune," he said using her given name, something he never did during workhours.
She said nothing, still clawing her way through the brain fog.
"I thought I had trained you to be emotionless. Flawless. Now I sense... something’s amiss."
"I haven't missed a deadline," she said as she tried to pull her mask back on. But she wasn't fast enough.
Dorian sat down again, his aura coiling around her like smoke.
"I don't care about deadlines," he murmured, watching her like she was a butterfly pinned to a corkboard. "But I do care about control."
Rune held his gaze, refusing to look away. This was new. There was a time when she would've looked down, compliant, obedient, and detached. But now, she met his stare. Her eyes weren't challenging. But there was something behind them. Something he did not understand. He did not like wildcards. The unknown equated to danger in his line of work.
"You were convenient," he said, cruelty in a velvet glove. "On call in every way that I needed. That's why I kept you. You did not bring your emotions to work."
"I still don't."
"No," he said, studying her. "But you're starting to crack. I know the signs."
