Forbidden Overtime

**Forbidden Overtime** The clock on the office wall read twenty to eight when Lucas finally looked up from his computer screen, rubbing his temples with a weary sigh. The air conditioning, set to an almost glacial temperature during business hours, now seemed to have been turned off for hours, leaving the space stuffy, thick with the smell of reheated coffee and old paper. He stretched his arms above his head, his back protesting after hours hunched over spreadsheets and reports, and that’s when he heard the soft sound of heels clicking against the marble floor. Mariana appeared in the doorway of the meeting room, her chestnut hair loose in disheveled waves, as if she had run her hands through it countless times throughout the day. She held a cup of coffee in one hand and a smile that seemed to defy fatigue on her face. "I thought you had already left," she said, her voice light, almost musical, as she approached the desk where Lucas worked. "But then I saw the light on here and thought: *well, if the boss is still working, who am I to abandon ship?*" Lucas felt his body tense slightly, as if an electric current had run down his spine. It wasn’t the first time he had noticed her—since Mariana had arrived three weeks ago as an intern in the marketing department, it was hard not to. She had a presence that filled the space, not just because of her beauty—the full lips, always slightly parted in a mischievous smile, the green eyes that seemed to shine even under the cold fluorescent lights—but because of the way she moved, uninhibited, as if the world were a stage and she, the only actress. He, on the other hand, was the opposite: methodical, restrained, a man who preferred the silence of late-night work to the loud laughter of the company’s happy hours. "I could say the same," he replied, trying to keep his voice neutral as he closed his laptop with a click. "But someone had to make sure these numbers didn’t end up on the director’s desk with typos." He nodded toward the stack of documents on the desk, some with pencil notes in the margins. Mariana laughed, a low, husky sound that stirred something in Lucas’s chest. She leaned against the edge of the desk, tilting slightly forward, and he couldn’t help but notice how her silk blouse slipped a little, revealing the soft curve of her breasts. "Oh, so you’re one of those who believes the devil is in the details?" she teased, her fingers playing with the handle of the cup. "Or do you just like playing the lone hero?" He raised an eyebrow, surprised by the boldness of the question. "Maybe I just don’t trust interns to do the job right," he shot back, but there was a playful tone in his voice that he couldn’t hide. Mariana wasn’t intimidated. Instead, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them, and set the cup on the desk with a soft clink. "Well, then I guess you’ll have to teach me how it’s done," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Because if we’re the last ones here, someone has to make sure this project doesn’t go to hell." Lucas felt the air grow thicker between them, as if her words had stolen the oxygen from the room. He knew he should step back, maintain professional distance, but something in the way Mariana looked at him—as if she already knew exactly what he was thinking—left him paralyzed. She wasn’t like the other interns, shy and insecure. She challenged him, provoked him, as if she knew that beneath that facade of a serious, controlled man, there was something more… *wild*. "Alright," he agreed, finally, his voice rough. "But only if you promise not to distract me." Mariana smiled, a slow, dangerous smile, and moved even closer, until he could feel the heat of her body, the sweet, slightly citrus scent emanating from her skin. "Oh, Lucas," she murmured, her lips almost brushing his ear, "I don’t promise anything." The office was silent now, the hum of the computers turned off, the rustling of papers the only sound besides their quickened breathing. Outside, the city had already plunged into darkness, the distant lights of the buildings blinking like artificial stars. They were alone, completely alone, and for the first time in a long time, Lucas felt something that wasn’t just fatigue or duty: it was *anticipation*. Mariana took a step back but kept her eyes locked on his, as if assessing his reaction. "So, boss," she said, her voice laden with a promise he couldn’t yet decipher, "where do we start?" Lucas took a deep breath, trying to focus on the numbers dancing on the screen in front of him. The final project report needed to be submitted before midnight, and every cell in the spreadsheet seemed to demand more attention than he had to give. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept returning to the woman beside him—Mariana, with her sweet, citrus scent, now mingling with the smell of old coffee and recycled paper from the office. She was leaning over the desk, her fingers deftly moving across the laptop keys, while a strand of dark chestnut hair escaped her makeshift bun and lightly brushed his shoulder. Lucas felt the heat of that minimal touch, like a spark running across his skin beneath his shirt. He adjusted his glasses, trying to ignore the sensation, but his eyes betrayed him, drifting to the subtle neckline of her blouse—a discreet V that revealed just a glimpse of the curve of her breasts, but enough to quicken his pulse. "Do you think the client will approve this projection?" Mariana asked, not lifting her eyes from the screen, as if she hadn’t noticed the direction of his gaze. Or perhaps as if she had noticed *too much*. "Depends," Lucas replied, his voice a little rougher than he intended. "If he’s a rational businessman, yes. If he’s a romantic, he’ll think we’re being pessimistic." She laughed, a low, musical sound, and finally looked up at him. Her lips, painted a discreet red, curved into a smile that seemed to hold more than simple amusement. "And you, Lucas? Are you rational or romantic?" The question hung between them, laden with something beyond words. He held her gaze, feeling the weight of that sudden intimacy. "I used to be both. Now…" He hesitated, unsure how to finish the sentence. "Now?" Mariana pressed, leaning in a little closer, as if she wanted to hear better. Or as if she wanted him to hear *her* better. "Now I just try not to complicate things." She arched an eyebrow, amused. "Complicating things is what makes life interesting." Before he could respond, her knee brushed against his under the table. A light touch, almost accidental, but it made Lucas’s body react as if he had been struck by an electric current. He held his breath, watching her closely, but Mariana didn’t pull away. Instead, she let the contact linger, her eyes fixed on his, challenging. "Sorry," she murmured, with no trace of regret in her voice. "It must be hard to work like this, so… close." Lucas swallowed hard. "It’s not as hard as it seems." "No?" She slid her hand across the table, her fingers lightly brushing his as she adjusted the mouse. "Because I’m finding it *very* hard to concentrate." He should have pulled away. Should have retreated, regained his professionalism, pretended none of this was happening. But the heat of her skin against his was irresistible, and the way she looked at him—as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered—left him defenseless. "Mariana…" Her name came out as a warning, but also as a plea. "Lucas," she replied, mimicking his tone but with a softness that disarmed him. "You’re trembling." He hadn’t realized, but it was true. His hands, once steady, now trembled slightly over the keyboard. "It’s the air conditioning." "Really?" She moved even closer, until her lips almost touched his ear. "Because I’m *burning*." Her warm breath made his skin tingle. He turned his head, finding himself inches from her face, so close he could see the faint freckles scattered across her nose, so close he could smell the coconut scent of her shampoo. Mariana didn’t pull back. Instead, her lips parted slightly, as if waiting for something—or inviting him to take it. "You’re playing with fire," he murmured, his voice rough. "And if I am?" She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, a slow, deliberate gesture. "Are you going to put me out?" Lucas didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out and took her wrist, not with force, but with enough firmness to let her know he was in control. Or at least trying to be. Mariana didn’t resist. Instead, she leaned in even closer, until her breasts brushed against his arm, a brief contact, but enough to make his blood boil. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," he said, but his words sounded weak even to himself. "I know *exactly* what I’m asking for," she shot back, her eyes shining with an intensity that left him breathless. "And so do you." He should have stopped there. Should have remembered they were colleagues, that the office was empty but not deserted—someone could come back, someone could see. But the desire consuming him was stronger than any sense of self-preservation. With a quick movement, he pulled her chair closer, until their bodies were almost pressed together, and cupped her face in his hands. Mariana didn’t protest. Instead, she closed her eyes and sighed, as if finally receiving something she had been waiting for a long time. "Last chance to back out," he whispered, his lips hovering over hers. "I don’t back out," she replied, and then she kissed him. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was urgent, hungry, as if both had been waiting for that moment since the first day they saw each other. Lucas’s hands slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, while Mariana tangled her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, as if she wanted to tear it off. The taste of her—mint and something sweet, like ripe fruit—left him dizzy, and he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with a voracity that surprised him. When they finally parted, both were breathless. Mariana smiled, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire. "That," she said, her voice trembling, "was better than I imagined." Lucas didn’t answer. Instead, he ran his thumb over her lower lip, feeling the softness of her skin, before leaning in to kiss her again. But before their lips could meet, Mariana placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. "Wait," she murmured, her chest rising and falling with her quickened breath. "We still have work to do." Lucas frowned, confused. "Now?" "Yes." She smiled, mischievous. "Because if we keep this up, there won’t be any report left to turn in tomorrow." He let out a low, frustrated laugh, but also admired her ability to maintain control when he had already lost his. "You’re cruel." "I’m practical," she corrected, pulling away slightly but keeping her hand on his chest, as if she wanted to feel the accelerated rhythm of his heart. "And you need to learn to be too." He took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "And if I don’t want to be practical?" Mariana tilted her head, studying him with a look that made him feel exposed. "Then we’ll have to find a way to do both." "Both?" "Work…" she began, moving closer again until her lips brushed his ear, "and have fun." Lucas felt a shiver run down his spine. "Are you suggesting we…" "I’m suggesting," she interrupted, her voice a seductive whisper, "that we take a break." He arched an eyebrow. "A break?" "Yes." She stood up, pulling him by the hand. "For coffee." Lucas let himself be led, but not without casting one last glance at the documents scattered across the table. "And the report?" Mariana smiled, pulling him toward the break room. "The report can wait. *We* can’t." The office break room was a small but cozy space, with frosted glass walls that let through only a diffuse glow from the hallway lights. The smell of fresh coffee mingled with the slightly sweet scent of the detergent used to clean the counter, and the low hum of the espresso machine filled the silence. Mariana let go of Lucas’s hand only to open the light wood cabinet where the cups were lined up like soldiers in formation. She chose two, one white with gold details, the other black and smooth, and placed them on the counter with a soft clink. "Do you prefer it strong or smooth?" she asked, turning to him with a smile that seemed to carry a much more intimate question. Lucas leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her. The yellowish light from the lamp above them highlighted the contours of her face, the curve of her neck, the way her lips moved as she spoke. He felt the weight of her gaze on him, as if every word were a caress. "Strong," he replied, his voice rough. "Always strong." Mariana arched an eyebrow, as if the answer amused her. "Interesting. I imagined you were the type who likes everything just right. Balanced. Controlled." "And you?" he shot back, taking a step closer. "The type who likes to take risks?" She laughed, a low, vibrant sound that reverberated in his chest. "Depends on the risk." She took the coffee capsule and inserted it into the machine with precise but deliberately slow movements. "Some risks are worth it." The machine began to hiss, and the dark liquid poured into the white cup, filling the air with a more intense, almost intoxicating aroma. Mariana picked up the cup and handed it to him, her fingers brushing his as he took it. The contact was brief but enough to send an electric current through Lucas’s body. "Careful," she murmured, her eyes locked on his. "It’s hot." He didn’t look away. "I like it hot." A slow smile spread across her lips, as if he had just confirmed something she already suspected. Mariana picked up her own cup, the black one, and brought it to her lips, blowing on the steam before taking a sip. The movement was casual, but the way her eyes closed for a moment, as if savoring something far beyond the coffee, made Lucas’s blood boil. "Do you always work late?" she asked, leaning against the counter beside him, their shoulders almost touching. "When it’s necessary." He took a sip, feeling the liquid burn his tongue in a pleasant way. "And you? Aren’t you afraid of being alone in the office at night?" Mariana tilted her head, studying him with a look that seemed to strip him bare. "Afraid? No. Curious, maybe." She swirled the cup between her fingers, her thumb tracing slow circles on the rim. "You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to work with someone so… intense." "Intense?" Lucas repeated, the word coming out harsher than he intended. "Yes." She moved a little closer, her scent—something citrusy and floral—invading his senses. "You have this aura of someone who takes everything seriously. As if every decision were a matter of life or death." "And that bothers you?" "No." She smiled, mischievous. "It intrigues me." He felt his body react to her proximity, to the provocative tone in her voice, to the way she seemed to toy with him as if it were a game. And for the first time in a long time, Lucas didn’t want to be the more experienced player. He wanted to be caught. "And what else intrigues you?" he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. Mariana brought the cup to her lips again but didn’t drink. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on him as the steam rose between them like a thin curtain. "The way you look at me," she said, finally. "As if you’re trying to solve a puzzle." "Maybe I am." "And have you figured anything out?" Lucas hesitated for a moment, but the truth escaped before he could contain it. "That you like playing with fire." She laughed, a sound that echoed through the small space, making the air between them vibrate. "And you?" she asked, moving even closer, until their bodies were inches apart. "Do you like getting burned?" He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out and touched her wrist, his fingers sliding over her soft skin until they found the spot where her pulse beat rapidly. Mariana didn’t pull away. On the contrary, she leaned in, her lips almost brushing his ear. "You know," she murmured, "I don’t usually take breaks for no reason. But today…" She paused, her warm breath against his skin. "Today I feel like breaking some rules." Lucas felt his heart pounding against his ribs. The hand holding the cup trembled slightly, and he set it carefully on the counter, not taking his eyes off her. "What kind of rules?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. Mariana smiled, a slow, dangerous smile, and pulled back just enough to face him. "The ones that say we can’t mix work with… pleasure." The air between them seemed charged with electricity, as if a single word could set everything off. Lucas felt desire pulsing in his veins, a raw, urgent need he could no longer ignore. But before he could act, Mariana stepped back, picking up her cup and bringing it to her lips once more. "Let’s see if you can handle the heat," she said, before taking a step back, leaving him there, his body on fire and his mind full of forbidden possibilities. And then, as if nothing had happened, she turned and walked back to the meeting room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor with a rhythm that seemed to echo his own heartbeat. Lucas took a deep breath, trying to regain control. But he knew it was already too late. The game had begun. And he had no intention of stopping. The air in the office was thick, laden with the smell of stale coffee and something more—something that came from them, a mix of clean sweat, Mariana’s citrus perfume, and the heat radiating from their bodies pressed too close. Lucas watched her lips as she spoke, her words lost in the buzz filling his ears. Every movement of her tongue, every slow blink, every time her fingers brushed his as she reached for a document—it was too much. The restraint that had once been his armor now felt like a thread about to snap. Mariana suddenly stopped talking, as if sensing the weight of his gaze. She turned slowly, her dark eyes meeting his, and smiled—not the teasing smile from before, but something more vulnerable, more real. Her breathing was slightly quickened, her lips parted, as if she, too, was waiting. Waiting *for him*. "Are you just going to stand there, Lucas?" Her voice was a low, husky whisper, almost a challenge. "Or are you going to do something about it?" That was all it took. With a quick movement, he closed the distance between them, his hands finding her waist with an urgency that surprised even himself. Mariana didn’t pull back. Instead, she arched against him, her fingers tangling in the collar of his dress shirt, pulling him down. When their lips met, there was no hesitation—just fire. The kiss was voracious, hungry, as if both had spent days, weeks, years waiting for that moment. His tongue explored hers with a possessiveness that made Mariana moan softly, the sound vibrating against his mouth. Lucas pushed her against the meeting table with a dull thud, the folders and papers scattering across the floor without either of them caring. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body even through the layers of fabric. Mariana matched his intensity, her nails lightly scratching the back of his neck, her hips moving against his in an instinctive rhythm. "Fuck…" he murmured against her mouth, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this." Mariana laughed, a low, sinful sound, and bit his lower lip before pulling him back for another kiss. "Oh, I think I do," she whispered, her words hot against his skin. "You’re not as good at hiding as you think." He didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, his hands moved to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly until she was sitting on the edge of the table, her legs automatically parting to accommodate him. Lucas fit himself between them, his body pressing against hers with a need that bordered on violence. Mariana moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "You’re so hot…" he murmured, his lips tracing a wet path down her neck, feeling her accelerated pulse beneath her skin. "So perfect." Mariana tilted her head back, giving him better access, and he didn’t waste time. His teeth grazed her collarbone, followed by his tongue, while his hands explored every curve—her firm breasts beneath the thin fabric of her blouse, her narrow waist, her hips that moved in search of more contact. She arched, a sigh escaping her parted lips. "Lucas…" His name came out as a plea, a moan, a supplication. That drove him wild. With a quick movement, he unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black lace bra that barely contained her breasts. Mariana didn’t protest, merely watched him with half-lidded eyes, her lips red and swollen from the kisses. He couldn’t resist. He leaned in and took one nipple into his mouth through the fabric, sucking hard enough to make her arch her back and moan loudly. "That’s it…" she whispered, her hands holding his head in place. "Like that." He obeyed, alternating between her breasts, his tongue and teeth working together to draw increasingly desperate sounds from her. Meanwhile, one of his hands slid downward, finding the hem of her skirt and pulling it up to reveal her soft thighs and the black lace of her panties. Mariana spread her legs wider, inviting him to explore. Lucas didn’t need further encouragement. His fingers brushed the damp fabric of her panties, feeling the heat radiating from her. Mariana moaned, her hips moving in search of more pressure. He smiled against her skin, satisfied with her reaction. "So wet…" he murmured, his fingers sliding beneath the lace, finding her already slick center. "And just from teasing me." Mariana let out a shaky sigh when he touched her, his fingers circling her clit with slow, deliberate pressure. "It wasn’t just from teasing," she managed to say, her voice broken. "It was from wanting you." Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He kissed her again, more urgently, while his fingers continued their work, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. Mariana clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her moans muffled against his mouth. "Lucas, please…" she begged, her hips moving in a frantic rhythm. "I need more." He didn’t make her wait. With a quick movement, he pulled her panties to the side and slid a finger inside her, feeling her inner walls clench around him. Mariana moaned loudly, her head falling back. He added another finger, moving them in an relentless rhythm, while his mouth found her neck again, sucking the sensitive skin hard enough to leave a mark. "Do you like that?" he asked, his voice rough. "Do you like being touched like this?" "Yes…" she gasped, her hips moving in sync with his fingers. "More." He obeyed, increasing the pace, feeling her getting closer to the edge. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and he knew she was about to come. But before he could take her over the edge, Mariana surprised him. With an agile movement, she pushed him back, her eyes gleaming with a determination that excited him even more. Before he could react, she slid off the table and pushed him against the wall, her hands quickly working on his belt and the zipper of his pants. "My turn," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as her fingers wrapped around his already hard, throbbing cock. Lucas groaned, his head hitting the wall, his eyes closing for a moment as she stroked him with perfect pressure. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Mariana kneeling in front of him, her lips parted, her eyes locked on his. "You’re not going to…" he began, but the words died in his throat when she took him into her mouth. The sensation was almost too much. Her tongue worked in circular motions, her lips tightening around him with delicious pressure, while her hands held the base firmly. Lucas tangled his fingers in her hair, not to control her, but to anchor himself, his hips moving instinctively in search of more. "Fuck, Mariana…" he groaned, his voice rough. "You’re going to kill me." She smiled around him, her eyes gleaming with mischief, before increasing the pace, taking him deeper. He felt the pleasure building at the base of his spine, the pressure growing, but he didn’t want to come like this. Not yet. With superhuman effort, he pulled her up, kissing her with renewed hunger. Mariana responded, her arms wrapping around his neck, their bodies pressing together. "I want you," he murmured against her mouth. "Now." Mariana didn’t answer with words. Instead, she turned around, placing her hands on the meeting table and arching her back, presenting herself to him. The sight of her skirt hiked up, her panties pulled to the side, her skin exposed and ready for him, was almost too much. Lucas didn’t waste time. With a quick movement, he removed her panties, letting them fall to the floor, and positioned himself behind her. Mariana looked over her shoulder, her dark eyes filled with desire. "Don’t make me wait," she whispered. He wouldn’t. With one hand holding her hip and the other guiding himself inside, he entered her with a single, firm thrust. Mariana moaned loudly, her nails scratching the table, as he buried himself to the hilt. For a moment, he stood still, feeling her around him, tight and hot, before he began to move. Her moans mingled with his as he set an relentless pace, his thrusts deep and precise. The table creaked beneath them, papers scattered across the floor, but neither cared. All that mattered was the pleasure building between them, the sensation of finally giving in to what they had both desired for so long. "Harder," Mariana begged, her voice trembling. "Please, Lucas." He obeyed, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he increased the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, more urgent. Mariana moaned, her body trembling beneath his, and he knew she was close. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. "Now." As if his words were the final trigger, Mariana arched her back, a muffled cry escaping her lips as the orgasm hit her. Her body clenched around him, tightening in a way that took him over the edge. With a rough groan, Lucas buried himself one last time, pleasure exploding inside him as he came, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. For a moment, they remained still, their bodies still connected, their ragged breathing filling the silence of the office. Then, slowly, Lucas pulled out, pulling Mariana into his arms and kissing her with a tenderness that contrasted with the wild passion of minutes before. She smiled against his lips, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "I think this table is going to need a cleaning," she murmured, her voice still husky. Lucas laughed, the sound low and satisfied, before kissing her again. "Worth it." Mariana pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shining with a promise. "And this was just the beginning." He felt a shiver run down his spine, anticipation already building again. Because she was right. It was just the beginning. The meeting table still vibrated beneath their entwined bodies, the cold varnish now marked by the heat of their hands, nails, and muffled moans against skin. Mariana pulled back just enough to slide her fingers along Lucas’s tie, drawing him closer with a smile that promised much more than that first moment had satisfied. The air between them was thick, dense with the scent of stale coffee mixed with fresh sweat, her citrus perfume, and the woody aroma of his soap—a combination that now became part of the map of desire they were beginning to trace together. "Do you think this table is enough?" she teased, her voice low, her lips brushing his earlobe as she stepped down from the surface, her high heels clicking on the marble floor. "Or are we going to explore the rest of this office?" Lucas didn’t answer with words. Instead, he grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, pressing her against the glass wall that separated the meeting room from the hallway. Their reflection there was distorted, fragmented—an arm here, a leg there, the outline of their bodies merging into shadows. He lifted one of her hands above her head, pinning it firmly, while the other slid down her thigh, pulling her tight skirt up to reveal the black lace of her stockings. "Do you like being watched?" he murmured, his teeth grazing her neck, feeling her accelerated pulse beneath her skin. "Because here, through this glass, anyone passing by outside could see us." Mariana arched her back, pressing against him, her breasts crushed against his chest. The thin fabric of her blouse did nothing to hide her hardened nipples, and he couldn’t resist: he lowered his head and lightly bit one through the fabric, drawing a moan from her. "I don’t care," she whispered, her breathing ragged. "As long as it’s you watching me." He laughed, a dark, satisfied sound, before releasing her hand and letting his fingers trail down her stomach, stopping at the button of her skirt. With a quick movement, he undid it, letting the garment fall to the floor. Mariana stood there in just her blouse, stockings, and panties—a sight that made Lucas’s blood boil. He knelt before her, his fingers hooked into the lace of her panties, pulling them down slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Her scent hit him first—warm, feminine, intoxicating. He pressed his face against her stomach, inhaling deeply, before trailing his mouth down to her hip, leaving a path of wet kisses along her sensitive skin. Mariana grabbed his hair, pulling him closer, her fingers tangling in his strands as he reached the spot she wanted most. "Lucas…" His name came out as a plea, a moan, a supplication. He didn’t make her wait. With his tongue, he parted her lips, finding the exact spot where pleasure concentrated. Mariana moaned loudly, her legs trembling, and he held her thighs, keeping her steady as he explored every fold, every sensation, every reaction of her body. When she began to writhe, he inserted two fingers, feeling her inner walls tighten around them, wet and eager. "Fuck, you’re so hot," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough with desire. "I want to taste you everywhere." Mariana couldn’t respond. The orgasm hit her like a wave, making her arch her body, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she trembled. Lucas didn’t stop, prolonging the pleasure until she gently pushed him away, her eyes half-closed, her breathing still ragged. "Your turn," she said, her voice husky, before kneeling in front of him. He didn’t have time to protest. With agile hands, she undid his belt, the zipper, pulling his pants and briefs down in one fluid motion. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, and she wrapped her hand around it, stroking him slowly before taking the tip into her mouth. Lucas groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair as she took him deeper, her tongue working in circular motions that left him on the edge. "Fuck, Mariana…" he growled, pulling her back before he lost control. "Not like this. Not yet." She smiled, licking her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then take me somewhere else." He didn’t need further encouragement. In one swift movement, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to her desk—a wide surface covered in scattered papers and pens. Lucas laid her down, pushing everything aside with a rough gesture, before positioning himself between her legs. Mariana pulled him down, kissing him hungrily, her nails scratching his back through his shirt. "Are you going to fuck me here?" she asked, her voice low, her lips brushing his. "On my desk, like I’m just another item on your to-do list?" Lucas laughed, biting her lower lip. "You’re not on my list," he murmured, sliding his hand between their bodies, guiding himself inside her. "You’re the only thing that matters now." And then he entered her, slowly at first, feeling every inch of her envelop him, tight, wet, perfect. Mariana moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, each thrust deeper, more intense, more desperate. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, as if she wanted to merge their bodies into one. "Harder," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please, Lucas…" He obeyed. Leaning on his arms, he increased the pace, his hips slamming against hers with force, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the empty office. Mariana arched her back, her breasts bouncing with each movement, and he couldn’t resist: he lowered his head and captured a nipple between his teeth, biting lightly before sucking it, drawing another moan from her. "That’s it… like that…" she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Don’t stop…" He had no intention of stopping. Every time he entered her, he felt the pleasure building, a growing pressure that threatened to explode at any moment. But he didn’t want to come alone. Not this time. He slid a hand between their bodies, finding her clit with his fingers, rubbing in firm circles as he continued to move. Mariana cried out, her entire body tensing, and he knew she was close. He quickened the pace, feeling her inner walls clench around him, tightening in a way that took him over the edge. With a rough groan, Lucas buried himself one last time, pleasure exploding inside him as he came, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. For a moment, they remained still, their bodies still connected, their ragged breathing filling the silence of the office. Then, slowly, Lucas pulled out, pulling Mariana into his arms and kissing her with a tenderness that contrasted with the wild passion of minutes before. She smiled against his lips, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "I think this desk is going to need a cleaning," she murmured, her voice still husky. Lucas laughed, the sound low and satisfied, before kissing her again. "Worth it." Mariana pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shining with a promise. "And this was just the beginning." He felt a shiver run down his spine, anticipation already building again. Because she was right. It was just the beginning. And as they dressed in silence, exchanging furtive glances and conspiratorial smiles, the office seemed different now. Every shadow, every corner, every surface carried the echo of what they had done—and the promise of what was yet to come. Lucas adjusted his tie, casting one last glance at Mariana, who smoothed her skirt with a slow, deliberate movement. "Tomorrow night," he said, his voice low, laden with intention. "Same time." She smiled, her lips still swollen from the kisses. "Forbidden overtime," she agreed. And with that, they left the office, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and the certainty that, very soon, they would return to start again. The air conditioning hummed softly, like a prolonged sigh from the building itself, as Lucas and Mariana composed themselves in the shadows of the office. The smell of cold coffee mingled with the sweet scent of sweat and sex, an aroma that now marked that space as theirs—a territory conquered, intimate, forbidden. The city lights, filtered through the half-open blinds, painted golden stripes on Mariana’s still-sensitive skin, highlighting the faint scratches on her shoulders, the marks of Lucas’s fingers on her waist. He watched her as he buttoned his shirt, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness, as if each gesture were part of a ritual. Mariana, sitting on the edge of the meeting table—the same one that hours earlier had supported their entwined bodies—swung her legs slowly, her high heels dangling from her toes. Her dress, now wrinkled, barely covered her thighs, and she didn’t seem to care. In fact, there was something defiant in the way she looked at him, as if she knew exactly the effect her disarray had on him. "Enjoying the show?" she asked, her voice husky, her lips curved in a lazy smile. Lucas finished adjusting his belt and stepped closer, stopping between her legs. The fabric of her skirt brushed against his pants, a tactile reminder of what had happened there. He cupped her chin with two fingers, tilting her face up, and kissed her slowly, savoring the lingering taste of wine and desire. "I could spend all night looking at you," he murmured against her mouth. "But I’m afraid if I do, I’ll never be able to leave." Mariana laughed, a low, vibrant sound, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "And what’s the problem with that?" she teased, nipping at his lower lip. "The building’s empty. No one’s going to interrupt us." "It’s not just the building," Lucas replied, running his hand down her back, feeling her skin still warm beneath the thin fabric. "It’s the fact that if I don’t leave now, I’ll end up throwing you back into that chair, and we won’t be able to walk right tomorrow." She arched an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Promises, promises…" He groaned, pressing his forehead against hers. "You’re impossible." "And you love it," she shot back, pulling him into another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. When they parted, both were breathless. "But I agree. We need to go before security starts their rounds." Lucas nodded but didn’t move. Instead, his fingers traced the curve of her collarbone, descending to the valley between her breasts, where her dress was still slightly open. Mariana held her breath as he brushed his thumb over her nipple, already hard again, and a shiver ran down her spine. "Or," she whispered, her voice laden with suggestion, "we could let security catch us." He laughed, a dark, delicious sound, and lightly pinched the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. "Don’t tempt me." Mariana sighed exaggeratedly and slid off the table, balancing on her heels. She adjusted her dress with slow, deliberate movements, knowing his eyes followed her every move. When she finished, she turned to him, her fingers playing with the strap of her bag. "So, boss," she said, the word laced with irony, "what do we do now?" Lucas crossed his arms, watching her with an intensity that made her feel naked again. "Now," he replied, "we leave. Like professionals. As if nothing happened." "And after?" "After," he stepped closer, his voice low, almost a whisper, "we plan the next time." Mariana bit her lip, suppressing a smile. "And when would that be?" Lucas pretended to think, but his eyes already gleamed with the answer. "Tomorrow is Friday. The office will be empty again." "Overtime?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Overtime," he confirmed. "But this time, no rush." She laughed, a sound that echoed through the empty office. "No rush at all?" "None," he promised, pulling her into another kiss, this one softer, slower. "I want to explore every inch of this place with you. Every desk, every chair, every meeting room." "And what else?" "And," he murmured, his lips brushing her earlobe, "I want to hear you scream my name in all of them." She let out a low moan, her nails digging into his arms. "You’re trying to kill me." "No," he corrected, his hand sliding to the back of her thigh, pulling her against him. "I’m trying to make sure you don’t forget what happened here today." Mariana closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself be carried away by the sensation of his body against hers, by the implicit promise in every touch. "As if I could forget," she whispered. Lucas smiled, satisfied, and finally stepped back, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair. "Let’s go," he said, extending his hand. "Before I change my mind." She intertwined her fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers, and together they walked to the door. Before leaving, however, Mariana stopped, looking back at the now-silent office, lit only by the city lights. "You know," she said, her voice soft, "I always thought this place was cold. Impersonal." Lucas squeezed her hand. "And now?" "Now," she replied, turning to him with a smile, "it’s ours." He didn’t say anything. He just pulled her into one last kiss, this one quick, intense, laden with everything that was yet to come. When they parted, Mariana took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the secret between them—a delicious, dangerous secret that bound them in a way no employment contract ever could. "Tomorrow," she repeated, like a promise. "Tomorrow," he agreed. And with that, they left, leaving behind the shadows of the office, but carrying with them the certainty that, very soon, they would return. Because now, that place was no longer just an office. It was a playground. And they had barely begun to play.