Chapter 12
Music pulsed through the hall, blending with the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses raised in toasts. It was a night of celebration, of rehearsed speeches and fake smiles, where every glance and gesture carried political weight.
I should have been focused on strategy, on alliances, on the image we needed to project. But all I could feel was his presence.
Fernando stood just a few feet away, surrounded by important men, whiskey in hand, wearing that look that blended charm and authority. His dark gray suit accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slightly loosened tie hinted at his more human side—the one I knew intimately.
Our eyes met, and time seemed to falter.
Just a second, a stolen instant amid the crowd, but enough to set my body on fire.
The problem was we couldn’t allow ourselves that instant.
I looked away, trying to ignore the heat rising through my chest, and moved toward the bar. I grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it in one gulp, trying to focus on what was happening around me. But then a familiar scent hit me.
“Need something stronger?” His voice came from close behind me, deep and enveloping.
I shouldn’t be trembling. I shouldn’t feel this insane urge to drag him away from all those people.
“Strong enough to distract me from what I can’t have,” I replied without looking at him.
“And is it working?”
I took a deep breath. I knew where this was heading. We’d played this game before, lost ourselves in each other so many times I should have known better.
But when his fingers brushed my waist, a silent warning, all logic crumbled.
“Meet me in the back hallway,” he whispered.
My heart raced.
I should say no.
But instead, I waited exactly two minutes before following him.
The hallway was narrow, with closed doors on both sides, the only light a dim glow at the far end.
He was there, waiting for me.
The moment I got close, Fernando pulled me to him, his hands firm on my waist as he pressed me against the cold wall.
“You came.”
“I always come,” I murmured, before grabbing his tie and pulling him into a hungry kiss.
The taste of whiskey and desire mingled in my mouth as our tongues tangled urgently, a wet, hungry kiss that made me moan against his lips.
Fernando’s hands slid to my back, his firm fingers pressing me against his hard, heated body, his chest heaving as I felt the warmth of his skin even through his shirt.
I wanted more. I wanted everything.
The door behind me swung open with a rough push, and suddenly we were inside a small office.
Soft lamplight cast golden shadows on the walls, the smell of old paper and leather mixing with his scent—sweat, cologne, raw desire.
Fernando spun me around, pressing his body against mine from behind, his hot breath grazing my neck as I arched into him, his hard cock already pressing against my ass through my dress.
“This is crazy,” he said, his voice low and ragged, as his hands slid along the side of my dress, inching upward, his fingers grazing my bare thigh.
“Then stop,” I retorted, the challenge coming out in a trembling whisper, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear my own voice.
He laughed softly, a hoarse sound thick with desire, his breath hot against my neck.
“You don’t want me to stop,” he murmured, and I felt his smile against my skin before he bit down gently, drawing a muffled moan from me.
And he was right.
Our bodies came together urgently, as if this moment were our last chance, as if the world outside had evaporated.
He hiked my dress up in one quick motion, his large hands gripping my hips, bending me over the desk as I pushed back for him, my legs already trembling with anticipation.
I heard his belt unbuckle, the zipper slide down, and then he was free—his thick, hot cock grazing my entrance for a second before he thrust into me, filling me completely.
“Fuck,” I moaned, my hands gripping the edge of the desk, nails digging into the wood as he started fucking me, the rhythm hard and deep, each thrust pushing me against the cold surface.
He gripped my waist with one hand, the other sliding up to grab my hair, pulling my head back as he fucked me, the sound of our skin slapping muffled by the small space.
“You’re mine,” he growled, the possessive tone making me clench around him, pleasure rising in hot waves as I ground back against him, wanting more, always more. Every touch was an explosion, every breath against my neck a reminder of what we kept trying to deny.
He slid a hand beneath me, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing firm circles as he thrust into me, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming, my whole body tense, teetering on the edge.
The orgasm hit me like lightning, making me tremble all over, my muscles pulsing around his cock as I came, hot wetness running down my thighs.
He didn’t stop, fucking faster, deeper, until he came with a low grunt, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with cum.
When it ended, we lingered there for a few seconds, breathless, heavy silence settling over us.
Fernando still held my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing my damp skin, his dark eyes fixed on me as if he wanted to commit that moment to memory before it slipped through his fingers.
The weight of reality crashed over us like a cold wave, but right then, with his warmth still inside me, I couldn't bring myself to care.
Fernando stayed silent for a few seconds, still holding my face in his hands, as if he wanted to memorize that moment before it slipped through his fingers.
“This can't keep going on like this,” he murmured.
My chest tightened.
I knew.
But instead of responding, I just pulled away, grabbed my purse, and straightened my dress.
“We'd better get back before they notice we're gone.”
Fernando looked at me, and for a moment, I caught a flash of frustration in his eyes.
But he nodded.
No promises. No expectations.
Just a growing emptiness that not even desire could fill.