Jasmin’s hand trembled slightly as she reached back and turned the lock on Tyrone’s office door with a sharp click. The sound echoed in the room like a trigger. When she turned around, he was watching her—arms crossed, chest rising slowly, as if savoring every second of her unraveling.

“On your knees,” he repeated, voice low, dangerous.

Her knees hit the soft rug beneath his desk, the silk of her blouse shifting against her skin as she lowered herself. Her eyes stayed on his belt, the slow, methodical way his hands moved to undo it. Her heart pounded in her throat.

“You’ve had that smart mouth all month,” he said, sliding the belt free. “Now I want to see what else it can do.”

She looked up at him, defiant even now, lips slightly parted. “What if I disappoint you?”

Tyrone chuckled—deep and dark. “You won’t. You’re too competitive to fail.”

She reached for him, her hands delicate but eager. He groaned softly as she freed him, her lips brushing his length with teasing slowness. She was confident, but he was in control. His hand tangled in her hair immediately, guiding her pace. Not rough—but assertive.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl.”

The praise sent a thrill down her spine. Jasmin wasn’t used to submission, but with him—it felt earned. Controlled. And deeply, achingly hot.

Minutes passed like a fever dream—heat, moans, low curses under his breath. When he finally pulled her up to her feet, he spun her around and bent her over the glass desk.

“Now I’m going to show you what it means to work under me.”

Tyrone pressed Jasmin down against the cool glass of his desk, one large hand gripping her hip, the other gliding up her back, making her arch for him. Her skirt was tight—too tight to stay on—and he didn’t bother with gentleness. He hiked it up around her waist, exposing the lace of her black thong.

“Perfect,” he murmured, palm sliding over her ass before delivering a sharp, deliberate smack. She gasped, her fingers curling against the glass. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Her voice was breathless, eyes wide with want.

He hooked his fingers into her panties and pulled them down her thighs, letting them fall to her heels. Then he unzipped his pants fully, positioning himself behind her, the thick head of his arousal teasing at her entrance.

“You’re not quiet anymore,” he said with a low smirk, running himself through her slick folds. “I like that.”

“Tyrone,” she moaned, hips twitching back toward him.

That was all the permission he needed.

He pushed into her in one smooth, powerful stroke, and her body tensed deliciously beneath him. She was tight, hot, clenching around him as he began to move—slow, punishing thrusts that made her legs tremble.

He gripped her wrists and pinned them to the desk, bending low over her back.

“This is mine now,” he growled in her ear, each thrust driving the words deeper. “You work for me. Every part of you.”

“Yes—yes,” Jasmin gasped, her body rocking with every motion, unable to fight the pleasure that surged through her.

Their rhythm built, rough and relentless. Skin against skin, breath against glass. The desk rattled beneath them, papers scattering like forgotten thoughts. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, until his hand wrapped around her mouth, muffling the scream as she came hard around him, her body shuddering uncontrollably.

He wasn’t far behind—his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, faster—before he spilled inside her with a deep, guttural groan, his grip on her tightening as he rode out the release.

Silence followed, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths.

Tyrone leaned over her, brushing his lips along her shoulder. “You did well, Jasmin.”

She let out a breathless laugh. “You’re going to ruin me.”

He smiled. “That’s the plan.”

The next morning, Jasmin entered the office early, her blouse buttoned higher than usual, hair neatly pulled back—but her lips were still swollen, and her walk just slightly off. She moved like a woman who had been thoroughly claimed.

And Ava noticed.

Sipping her coffee, Ava stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in the executive lounge, her eyes tracking Jasmin as she moved through the open workspace.

Jasmin had always carried herself with confidence—but now there was a different kind of aura around her. Less armor, more glow. Like she’d been touched—not just physically, but deeply.

Ava’s eyes narrowed as she saw Tyrone step out of his office, adjusting the cuff of his shirt. He didn’t look at Jasmin directly—but she didn’t need him to. The energy between them hummed.

The moment Jasmin passed by, Ava saw it—Tyrone’s subtle glance downward. Possessive. Remembering.

And Jasmin’s cheeks flushed.

“Interesting,” Ava murmured to herself.

Later that morning, Ava knocked on Tyrone’s door. He was alone, seated behind his desk, the same one that had just hours ago held Jasmin’s body.

“Ava,” he said with that slow smile. “To what do I owe the visit?”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Just thought I’d check in… see how our fearless leader’s doing this morning.”

He arched a brow, immediately sensing her tone. “You’ve never checked in on me before.”

“People change.”

“You don’t.”

Ava crossed her arms, her fitted blouse stretching over her full chest. “You look… satisfied, Tyrone. Relaxed.”

He didn’t flinch. “And?”

She smirked. “Let me guess. Jasmin stayed late again?”

He stood slowly, coming around the desk. “Are you asking as a department head… or as a woman who’s suddenly very curious?”

“I’m asking as someone who’s wondering if your focus is still on the company,” she replied smoothly. “Or if it’s slipping into… distractions.”

He stepped closer. “You’re jealous.”

“Please,” she laughed, though her pulse jumped. “I don’t get jealous. I get even.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Careful, Ava. That almost sounded like a challenge.”

She leaned in, lips near his ear. “Maybe it is.”

Then she turned and walked out—leaving him hard and intrigued.

Tyrone’s Page