Chapter 7
Adrian
I lean back in my leather chair, eyes fixed on the wall of screens before me. The monitors show a different angle of the studio where Sophia works, completely absorbed in her craft. The soft afternoon light gives her a warm glow.
My fingers drum against the armrest. She's right there, not far from me. I could walk over at any moment, watch her work in person instead of through these digital eyes. The thought sends a thrill through me.
Sophia steps back, tilting her head as she studies her work. Her brow furrows in that way it does when she's deep in concentration. I lean forward, drinking in every detail— how she twirls her brush between her fingers when she's thinking, the slight smudge of paint on her cheek she hasn't noticed yet.
"Beautiful," I whisper, reaching out to trace her image on the nearest screen. Two years of watching from afar, and now she's here, in my building, using my studio. The reality of it hits me again, making my chest tight.
I clench my jaw and glance at Mara's email to Sophia on one of my screens. Her attempt to warn Sophia about me burns like acid in my chest. After everything I've done for her, this is how she repays my trust.
My hand tightens around my coffee cup. Twice now, Mara has interrupted crucial moments with Sophia. First in the studio, just as I was about to... and then that phone call. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.
"Playing both sides, Mara?" I mutter, pulling up her communication logs. "You forget who built this system."
I scan through Mara's recent activities, noting every small act of defiance. She's getting bolder, thinking she can manipulate the situation. The irony almost makes me laugh—she's trying to protect Sophia from me while enabling everything else I do.
Standing up, I pace the length of my office. The cameras follow Sophia as she works, completely unaware of the power struggle happening around her. My fingers twitch with the need to touch her, to be near her. But Mara's interference has made Sophia cautious, planted seeds of doubt.
I pull up Mara's contract on my tablet. Perhaps it's time to remind her exactly who she works for. A few subtle changes to her responsibilities, limiting her access to certain areas of the building—especially during Sophia's scheduled studio times.
"You want to play games?" I tap my fingers against the tablet's screen. "Let's see how you manage with clipped wings."
I begin drafting a new schedule, one that will keep Mara occupied with projects across town during my planned interactions with Sophia. No more convenient interruptions. No more warnings.
And just as if I summoned her myself, footsteps announce Mara's arrival, each step echoing off my marble floor and shattering my thoughts. I don't turn around, keeping my eyes fixed on the tablet in my hands.
"Your schedule for tomorrow morning," Mara says, her voice crisp. "The board wants to discuss the new security protocols."
"Reschedule it." I wave my hand dismissively. "I'll be observing Sophia's progress on the commission."
"You mean watching her through cameras?" Mara's tone carries that edge I've grown to hate. "Adrian, this is getting out of hand."
I turn to face Mara, taking in her sleek black skirt suit and the defiant tilt of her chin. Her heels and perfectly styled bob complete the image of polished professionalism, but right now, all I see is betrayal.
"That email was a mistake." My voice comes out cold, controlled.
Mara crosses her arms. "Someone needed to warn her."
"Warn her?" I step closer, towering over her. "You mean sabotage everything I've built?"
"I'm trying to protect you from yourself." She holds her ground, but I catch the slight tremor in her voice. "This obsession—"
"Obsession?" I bark sharply, making her jump. "You work for me, Mara. Your job is to execute my plans, not judge them."
"Adrian, please. I've been by your side through everything. After what happened with Elliot—"
"Don't." The word cuts like a blade. "You don't get to use that against me."
"I see how this is affecting you. The surveillance, the manipulation—"
"The manipulation?" I laugh, harsh and sharp. "Like your perfectly timed interruptions? Those urgent calls that somehow always come when I'm with Sophia?"
Color drains from Mara's face. "You knew?"
"I built these systems. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
She takes a small step back. "I just thought—"
"That's the problem." I move into her space. "You're thinking too much. Questioning too much. Forgetting your place."
"My place?" A flash of anger crosses her features, but it quickly fades under my stare.
"Yes, your place. Which is to support my decisions, not undermine them." I keep my voice low, dangerous. "You're valuable to me, Mara. Don't make me question that value."
Her throat bobs as she swallows. "I understand."
"Do you? Because your recent behavior suggests otherwise."
"I..." She drops her eyes. "You're right. I overstepped."
"Yes, you did." I straighten my tie. "And it won't happen again."
"No," she whispers. "It won't." Her eyes flicker with emotion before it's quickly masked.
"Kneel," I command, watching her carefully.
Mara hesitates again, and this time, I don't need my systems to tell me she's planning her next move. "You want to keep your job, don't you Mara?"
"Yes," she answers, her voice thick.
"Then do as I say." I keep my tone steady, authoritarian. "Kneel."
Slowly, she lowers herself to the floor, sinking onto her knees. Her hands rest on her thighs.
"Now, let's talk about respecting boundaries." I circle her like a predator. "About remembering who's in control."
Mara stays silent, her breath shallow.
"Show me you understand who's in charge here," I tell her.
For a moment, she doesn't move. I narrow my eyes, ready to call her bluff, but then she starts to undo the buttons of her jacket. With deliberate slowness, she opens her jacket, revealing her black lace bra and the curve of her tits.
She slips the jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her hands move to the zipper of her skirt, slowly lowering it before shimmying out of the garment. Next, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, a matching black silk, and stockings, dark nylon that hugs her legs. Slowly, she eases them down her thighs, trying to keep kneeling as best as she can.
"That's it." My voice is calm as I take in the vision of her kneeling before me, naked. "Now, lean forward and touch your forehead to the floor."
Mara obeys, her back straight. Her fingers press against the marble floor as she submits, and I feel a rush of power. Her hesitation earlier was
expected; this demonstration of her submission is a reminder of where her loyalty should lie. With me. Only me.
Moving closer, I run a hand through her hair, relishing the feeling of her yielding to me.
"You're my most trusted assistant, Mara. You know things about me that no one else does. That's why I keep you close." My fingers tighten in her hair, and I give a slight tug, forcing her to look up at me. "But you need to earn that trust."
"I know," she whispers, her eyes reflecting a mix of shame and desire. "I'm sorry. I lost sight of my place."
"Yes, you did." I pull her up by the hair, enjoying the slight wince of pain that crosses her face. "But we can fix that. Show me how sorry you are." I step closer, positioning myself directly in front of her, my thigh brushing against her face. She knows what I want, and she also knows she doesn't want to refuse.
Mara glances up at me, her eyes questioning, seeking some reassurance or hint of gentleness. But I keep my expression cold. I won't make this easy for her.
"Not going to do it?" I tighten my fist. "Make me tell you again."
Her eyes widen at the challenge, at the threat of what I might do if she continues to disobey. Slowly, she reaches for my belt, unbuckles it, and then undoes the button and zipper of my slacks. Her fingers dance across my growing arousal through my boxer briefs, and her eyes flicker with a mix of emotions—desire, shame, and something resembling fear.
But this is what Mara likes.
I tilt my head down, watching her as she pulls down my boxer briefs, my cock springing free. Her gaze lingers for a moment before she lowers her head and takes me into her mouth.
The warmth of her mouth envelops me, and I close my eyes, biting back a groan. Her lips are soft, and she uses her tongue skillfully, swirling
around the head and tracing the sensitive vein along the underside of my shaft. She hollows her cheeks and bobs her head, taking me deeper, and I let out a ragged breath.
This is what I need. Dominance and submission. Control. I shift my hips, thrusting slightly, and she relaxes her throat to take more of me. Her hands rest on my thighs, her nails digging into my skin as she works, adding a sharp pang of pleasure to the mix.
But it's not enough to take the edge off. Watching her look at Sophia, seeing the doubt in Sophia's eyes because of Mara's actions—it's all still there, simmering under the surface.
I want to see something else in Sophia's eyes.
On the screens, Sophia still paints, unaware of my scrutiny. But it's not enough. I let myself imagine her without the loose sweater and jeans, her soft skin bared to my touch. Unbeknownst to her, I possess other images of her—images that would make her blush if she knew.
With a few touches on the tablet's surface, I access those photos, private, intimate pictures taken by Daniel. I study the curves of her body, her skin creamy and smooth in the glow of the flash. My breath quickens as I envision running my hands along her sides, my thumbs grazing the swells of her chest. They're perfect, full and round, nipples puckered and taut. She has no idea how much I've thought about these photos, how often I've imagined myself teasing those nipples with my tongue, sucking until she cries out.
But that's not all I want. My gaze lingers on the smattering of freckles across her shoulders, down her back. I want to cover them with my lips, taste the salt of her skin. I'd start there, tasting every inch of her, and then I'd continue downward, teasing her with my tongue until she squirms and begs for more.
My cock twitches in Mara's mouth at the thought.
But what I want most of all is to own her, to brand her as mine, mark her so deeply that no one could ever mistake her for anything but mine. I clench my fists at my sides, picturing her underneath me, eyes closed as I thrust into her, again and again, her cries of pleasure muffled by the pillows. I'd leave her spent and sated, my name on her lips, etched forever into her heart.
"Look at me," I murmur, and Mara's eyes flicker up to meet mine. "Keep your eyes on me while you do it."
She obeys, never breaking eye contact as she takes me deeper into her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue. No one does this like Mara. She knows exactly what I need, when I need it.
I let out a low groan, tangling my hand in her hair as I thrust, setting a slow, steady rhythm. Her eyes never waver from mine, and she relaxes her throat, taking me even deeper.
But even as my arousal builds, the image of Sophia is still there in my mind. The feeling of incompleteness, of something just out of reach, gnaws at me. I want Sophia. I need her.
I guide Mara's movements, my eyes boring into hers, willing her to understand the depth of my need, the urgency I feel. I won't—I can't—let anything get in the way of what I have planned for Sophia.
I pull Mara up suddenly, popping my dick out of her mouth, and spin her around, my breath hot on her neck. She lets out a little gasp as I push her forward, bending her over my desk. Her hands grasp the edge, knuckles white as she braces herself.
"You know what happens when you disobey."
I feel her body tense in anticipation. I land a sharp slap on her ass, making her cry out. The sound goes straight to my cock, and I smack her again, harder this time. Her flesh reddens under my hand, and I let out a growl of satisfaction.
"Please, Adrian," she begs. "Punish me."
Hearing those words makes my breath catch. I reach for one of the drawers, pulling out a silk scarf I keep for moments like these. Moving behind her, I bind her wrists together, cinching the fabric tight. Her breath quickens, shallow pants that tell me she's enjoying this.
I squeeze her hips and drive into her in one swift thrust, making her cry out. She's wet and ready, and I begin to move, hard and fast. Her bound hands clench the edge of the desk, and she pushes back against me, meeting my rhythm.
My hands dig into her hips, leaving marks. I want to leave my mark on her, brand her as mine. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, along with her soft moans.
"You like that, Mara?" I whisper. "You like being reminded who's in charge?"
"Yes," she breathes. "Please, harder."
I pull her head back sharply. She lets out a gasp that turns into a moan as I thrust into her, again and again. Her bound hands struggle against the silk, but I force her to stay still.
"You obey me," I growl the words against her ear.
"I obey you," she chokes out.
Something about those words sends a jolt through me, and my pace becomes even more frantic. I'm close now, so close, and I let out a ragged groan.
But I'm not ready to finish yet.
With a sharp tug on her hair, I pull out, making her whimper in protest.
"Kneel," I command, pushing her back down to the floor.
Obediently, she lowers herself to her knees, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. I step back, my eyes roaming over her naked body, taking in the flushed skin, the wanting look in her eyes.
"Finish it," I say, my voice hoarse.
Mara swallows, her eyes never leaving mine as she reaches for my cock. She wraps her bound hands around the shaft, stroking me slowly. Her thumb swirls over the head, spreading the pre-cum, and I bite back a groan.
Her mouth opens, and she takes me inside, her tongue working its magic. I feel her lips tight around me as she bobs her head, taking me deep.
This time, I don't hold back the groan. It tears from my throat, and my hips begin to move, thrusting, sliding in and out of her mouth. Her bound hands cup my balls, massaging them gently. It's too much, and with a sharp cry, I come, spilling myself down her throat. Mara swallows, her eyes closed in concentration as she takes every drop.
I pull out slowly, my breaths coming in sharp gasps. Mara stays on her knees, head bowed, waiting for my next command.
"Good girl." I pet her gently. "That's my good girl."
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with a mix of desire and submission. I untie her wrists, and she rubs them gently, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I offer her my hand, and she takes it, standing gracefully.
"Get dressed, Mara." My voice is rough, the edges of my need still scraping at me. "You have work to do."
She nods, her expression closing off as she reaches for her scattered clothes.
"Now get out." I don't raise my voice, but the temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees.
Without a word, Mara dresses as quickly as she can, then heads for the door.
"And Mara?" I call after her. "I want you to handle the Tokyo negotiations. In person."
She pauses at the door, her back stiffening as she realizes what this means: a few days away from the office, away from Sophia. Away from any chance to interfere.
"Of course, Mr. Vale." Her voice is professional, but I hear the understanding in it. She knows this is punishment, knows I'm removing her from the equation.
The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with my screens.
With my Sophia.