Forbidden Overtime

**Forbidden Overtime** The *Global Solutions* building was one of those glass-and-steel skyscrapers that mirrored São Paulo’s gray sky, as if the entire city were trapped in a looking glass. Inside, the air conditioning hummed softly, keeping the temperature at a precise 22 degrees—a calculated chill to keep minds sharp and bodies alert. But that night, the weather outside didn’t follow the rules. Rain fell in thick sheets, lashing against the windows with a fury that seemed to challenge the concrete structure. Laura adjusted her thin-framed glasses, her fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard. The quarterly report was due by midnight, and she still had three spreadsheets to review. The cold glow of the monitor lit her face, highlighting her slightly pressed lips in concentration, her brown hair tied in a loose bun that left a few strands clinging to her damp neck. She was like that—meticulous to the point of exhaustion, the analyst who never let a single detail slip, the employee colleagues called a *robot* when they thought she couldn’t hear. On the other side of the room, Rafael watched the raindrops streak down the window, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants. He was new there, hired to restructure the finance department, and from day one, Laura had been the only one unimpressed by his easy smile or the way he loosened his tie at the end of the workday. He liked that. He liked the way she lifted her chin when she disagreed with something, the way her green eyes—almost amber under the artificial light—narrowed when she was about to deliver a sharp retort. — You’re still here. His voice made her look up. Rafael stood beside her desk, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms marked by discreet veins. The scent of his cologne—something citrusy with a hint of spice—mingled with the lingering aroma of stale coffee in the air. — And so are you, — she replied, not looking away from the screen. — It’s not every day a manager stays late to review numbers. — It’s not every day an analyst *offers* to stay late *with* the manager, — he shot back, a smile playing on his lips. Laura felt her face heat up, but she kept her expression neutral. — I didn’t offer. I just do what I’m asked. — And you do it very well, — Rafael leaned slightly over the desk, resting his hands on the surface. The movement brought them closer, and Laura could see the details she usually ignored: the shadow of stubble, the way the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a patch of tanned skin. — But admit it, Laura. You like challenges. She finally looked at him, holding his gaze. — And you like making assumptions. His smile widened, as if she had just confirmed something he already knew. — Touché. A thunderclap rumbled outside, making the lights flicker for a second. Laura glanced at the window, where the rain now fell diagonally, driven by the wind. The building felt like a ship at sea, swaying under the storm. — This isn’t good, — she murmured, more to herself. Rafael followed her gaze. — The forecast said it would rain, but not like this. — It’s not just the rain. The building’s security system usually shuts down the elevators during heavy storms. If the power goes out… — We’ll be stuck here, — he finished, crossing his arms. — How convenient. Laura frowned. — Convenient for whom? — For those who enjoy unexpected company, — he shrugged, as if the idea didn’t bother him at all. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. — You’re insufferable. — And you love it. Before she could respond, the lights flickered again, this time for longer. The air conditioning let out a strange hum and stopped. Within seconds, silence settled, broken only by the sound of rain and wind. — Shit, — Laura muttered, standing up quickly. She went to the window, pressing her hands against the cold glass. Below, the streets were flooded, car headlights forming blurry patches in the darkness. — The power’s out. And the emergency generators didn’t kick in. Rafael approached, standing beside her. — They’re probably overloaded. This building’s old. — Old and poorly maintained, — she agreed, feeling the heat of his body radiating against hers. — We’ll have to wait until the storm passes. — Or until someone realizes we’re here. Laura looked at her wristwatch. — It’s almost ten. The cleaning crew’s already gone, and the night security only makes rounds every two hours. — Then we have time, — Rafael said, his voice low, almost intimate. She turned to him, arms crossed over her chest. — Time for what? He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes roamed her face, lingering on her lips before meeting hers again. — To finish the report. Or… — he paused, his smile returning — …to find out if you’re as good at improvising as you are at following rules. Laura felt a shiver run up her spine—not from the cold creeping into the office, but from the way he looked at her. As if he already knew what she wanted, even before she admitted it. — You’re dangerous, Rafael, — she said, her voice rougher than she intended. — And you like danger, — he replied, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was light, almost casual, but Laura felt the heat of his fingers burning her skin. She should have pulled away. Should have gone back to her desk, finished the report, and ignored the way her heart raced. But she didn’t move. Outside, the rain kept falling, isolating them from the world. And there, in the silence of the dark office, with only the faint glow of the monitors lighting their faces, Laura realized something had changed. Something irreversible. Laura didn’t pull away. Not when Rafael let his fingers trail along the line of her jaw, not when his thumb brushed her lower lip, slow, as if testing how far he could go before she retreated. But she didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her face just enough for the touch to become something more—a promise, an invitation. He smiled, satisfied, and took a step back, returning to the conference table where scattered reports awaited. But the space between them was no longer the same. The air felt thicker, charged with the weight of what had been said without words. — Let’s finish this quickly, — Rafael said, pulling out the chair beside hers. — Before the power goes out completely and we have to work in the dark. Laura laughed, a low, husky sound, and sat down, adjusting her pencil skirt, which rode up a few inches above her knees. She noticed his gaze dip to her legs before he forced himself to look back at the laptop screen. But the heat of his presence beside her was impossible to ignore. Every time he leaned in to point something out in the report, his arm brushed against hers, and she caught the scent of his cologne—something woody with a hint of spice that made her mouth go dry. — Do you always work this late? — he asked, his voice closer than necessary. — Only when the deadline is impossible, — she replied, trying to focus on the spreadsheets. — And when the new manager decides everything is needed yesterday. — Oh, so it’s my fault? — He arched an eyebrow, feigning indignation. — Totally. — Laura turned to face him, her lips curving into a teasing smile. — You arrived with that ‘let’s revolutionize everything’ energy, and now here we are, at ten o’clock at night, with half the building empty. — And you love it, — he murmured, moving closer. — Otherwise, you’d have left already. She should have denied it. Should have said she was there only out of professionalism, out of a sense of responsibility. But the truth was, in the past few days since Rafael had taken the position, she’d been making excuses to stay after hours. To watch him work, to listen to him give orders in that calm, authoritative voice, to feel the way he looked at her when he thought she didn’t notice. — Maybe, — she admitted, lowering her eyes to his lips. — Or maybe I just like watching you drown in work. Rafael laughed, a deep sound that vibrated in his chest and made something inside her clench. He leaned in even closer, until his mouth was inches from her ear. — Careful, Laura. If you keep provoking me, I’ll start to think you want something beyond these reports. She swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in her neck. The room was silent except for the sound of rain against the windows and the low hum of the computers. The office, once a familiar space, now felt like uncharted territory, full of dangerous possibilities. — What if I do? — she whispered, turning her face until their lips almost touched. Rafael didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his fingers trail down her arm, tracing a slow path to her wrist, where her racing pulse betrayed how affected she was. He took her hand, turning it to expose her palm, and pressed a kiss there, his lips warm against her sensitive skin. — Then we’ll have to find out, — he said, his voice rough. — But not here. Laura felt her heart race. He was right. Anyone could walk in—the security guard on his rounds, a colleague who’d forgotten something. But the idea of being caught, of having to hold back, only heightened the excitement. — Where, then? — she asked, challenging him with her gaze. Rafael smiled, slow and dangerous, and stood up, pulling her by the hand. She followed, her high heels sinking into the plush carpet, until he guided her behind one of the conference room partitions, a semi-private space where old files were kept. — Here, — he murmured, pressing her against the wall. — No one comes here after seven. Laura arched her back as he pressed his body against hers, his hands sliding over her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel his erection against her hip, hard and insistent, and a low moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. — Rafael… — she whispered, but he silenced her with a kiss. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t hesitant. It was a hungry kiss, as if he’d been waiting for this for days—and maybe he had. His tongue invaded her mouth, exploring, demanding, while his hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly, fitting her better against him. Laura tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, tasting the coffee he’d had earlier mixed with something more primal, more masculine. She bit his lower lip, drawing a low growl from him, and he responded by squeezing her ass, making her moan against his mouth. — Fuck, Laura, — he growled, pulling back just enough to breathe. — You’re going to kill me before we even start. She laughed, a breathless sound, and ran her fingers over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his dress shirt. — Then let’s get on with it. Rafael didn’t need further encouragement. He turned her around, pressing her against the wall, and pulled her skirt up, his large hands exploring the exposed skin of her thighs. Laura shivered when his fingers brushed the lace of her already damp panties. — So wet, — he murmured, his voice rough with desire. — And we haven’t even started properly. She moaned when he moved the fabric aside and slid a finger inside her, slow and deliberate. Laura arched her back, her nails digging into the wall as he added another finger, stretching her, preparing her. — Rafael, please… — she begged, her voice breaking. He chuckled, low and satisfied, and kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. — Please what? — he teased, moving his fingers faster. — Do you want me to stop? — Don’t you dare, — she gasped, feeling her orgasm approaching. But he stopped. Pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her empty, desperate, and brought them to his mouth, licking them slowly, his eyes locked on hers. — Delicious, — he murmured. — But I want to taste you another way. Laura didn’t have time to respond. Rafael picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the nearest table, laying her down on the scattered reports. He knelt between her legs, pulling her panties aside, and before she could protest, his mouth was on her. Laura arched her back, a muffled cry escaping her lips as his tongue explored her, slow and meticulous. He sucked her clit, making her tremble, then dove back in, as if he couldn’t get enough. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as pleasure built in increasingly intense waves. — Rafael… I’m going to… — she moaned, feeling her orgasm approach. But he stopped again, standing up with a devilish smile. — Not yet. Laura groaned in frustration, but before she could protest, he pulled her up, kissing her hard, letting her taste herself on his tongue. — I want you, — she whispered against his lips. — Now. Rafael didn’t need to be told twice. He turned her around, pressing her against the table, and pulled her skirt up to her waist. Laura heard the sound of his zipper being undone, and then felt the tip of his cock brush against her entrance, hot and hard. — Last chance to back out, — he murmured, his voice strained. Laura looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes dark with desire. — If you stop now, I’ll fire you. He laughed, a rough sound, and then thrust into her all at once, filling her completely. Laura moaned, her nails digging into the wood of the table as he began to move, slow at first, but gaining speed with each thrust. — Fuck, you’re tight, — he grunted, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Laura couldn’t respond. The pleasure was too intense, each movement driving her closer to the edge. She pushed her hips back, meeting his thrusts, feeling him deeper and deeper. — Faster, — she begged, her voice breaking. Rafael obeyed. He held her tighter, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. Laura felt her orgasm approaching, a hot, overwhelming wave, and when he reached between her legs to rub her clit, she came, crying out his name as her body trembled. Rafael didn’t stop. He kept moving, chasing his own pleasure, until, with a low growl, he came inside her, his body shaking as he spilled himself. For a moment, they stayed like that, breathless, their bodies still joined. Laura could feel his heart beating against her back, fast and erratic, just like hers. Then Rafael pulled away, turning her to face him. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, slow and deep, as if still not satisfied. — That was… — she began, but couldn’t finish. — Just the beginning, — he completed, his wicked smile returning. Laura looked at him, feeling her body still tingling, desire already rekindling. — And now? Rafael adjusted his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. — Now, we finish those reports. — He paused, his smile widening. — Then, I’ll show you what else we can do in the office. Laura laughed, feeling the heat spread through her body again. — You’re insatiable. — And you love it, — he replied, pulling her in for another kiss. Outside, the rain kept falling, isolating them from the world. And there, between reports and whispered promises, Laura knew nothing would ever be the same again. The rain hammered against the office windows like impatient fingers on glass, each drop a reminder that the world outside had dissolved into a gray, wet blur. The air conditioning, now off, had left the room stuffy, thick with the scent of old paper, reheated coffee, and—faint, almost imperceptible—Laura’s citrusy perfume mingling with the light sweat of the long night. She was bent over the report, her fingers tapping the desk as she reviewed the numbers for the tenth time, her thin-framed glasses slipping down her nose. The desk lamp cast a golden halo over her face, highlighting the curve of her lower lip, bitten without her noticing. Rafael watched her from the corner of his eye, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers intertwined under his chin. There was something hypnotic about the way she furrowed her brow when concentrating, as if each line of the document demanded not just her attention but her soul. He had seen beautiful women before—women who knew exactly the effect they had, who used the office as a stage for calculated games. But Laura wasn’t like that. She was *real*, with her nails bitten to the quick, her hair tied in a loose bun that left strands clinging to her neck, her blouse slightly wrinkled from hours of sitting without a care for appearances. And for some reason, that drove him crazy. — You’re staring again, — she murmured without looking up from the paper. — I’m admiring, — he corrected, his voice low, almost a purr. — It’s different. Laura finally lifted her face, her dark eyes meeting his. There was a challenge there, but also something more, a spark she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—name. — Admiring what? — Your ability to make even an inventory report seem interesting. She laughed, a short, genuine sound that made his chest tighten. — You’re a terrible liar. — I’m not lying. — Rafael leaned forward, his fingers brushing the back of her hand on the table. A light touch, almost accidental. — You have this… this *presence*. Like the whole world stops when you’re focused. Laura felt the heat rise in her neck. It was ridiculous how such a simple compliment could unnerve her. She pulled her hand away, pretending to adjust her glasses. — You’re trying to distract me. — Is it working? — Unfortunately. He smiled, satisfied, and pushed the coffee cup toward her. — Here. You need caffeine. Or sugar. Or both. Laura took the cup, her fingers brushing his for a moment. The coffee was lukewarm, but she drank it anyway, the bitter liquid burning her tongue. Rafael watched her, his eyes fixed on the way her throat moved as she swallowed, on the curve of her neck exposed by the collar of her blouse. He wondered what it would be like to kiss that spot, to feel her pulse quicken under his lips. Then it happened. A spasm in Laura’s arm—a sudden movement, maybe from fatigue, maybe from the tension vibrating between them—made the cup tremble. The coffee spilled in a dark jet, staining the light fabric of her dress in an irregular blot that spread like ink in water. — Shit! — Laura jumped up from the chair, pulling away from the table as if the liquid could burn her for real. — Shit, shit, shit. Rafael was already on his feet, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the conference table. He approached her with the calm of someone who had known the accident was inevitable, as if he had been waiting for it all along. — Calm down. It’s nothing that can’t be cleaned. — It’s going to stain, — she grumbled, trying to pull the fabric away from her body, but the dress had already stuck to the damp skin of her thigh. — And it smells like old coffee. — Better to smell like coffee than desperation, — he joked, but Laura didn’t laugh. She was too busy trying not to think about the fact that Rafael was now inches away from her, his fingers holding the napkin with a precision that bordered on deliberate slowness. He began to clean the stain, his movements circular and careful, as if polishing something fragile. The fabric of the dress was thin, almost transparent where the coffee had soaked through, and Rafael could see the outline of her lace panties underneath. He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly. — You’re making it worse, — Laura murmured, but didn’t pull away. — I’m trying not to, — he corrected, his voice rough. — But you’re… wet. The words hung between them, laden with a double meaning neither dared to ignore. Laura felt her breath catch. The office suddenly seemed smaller, the walls closing in around them as if the building itself were conspiring to bring them closer. Rafael kept cleaning, but now his fingers weren’t content with the fabric. He brushed the bare skin of her thigh, just a touch, just enough to feel the heat radiating from there. Laura held her breath. She could hear his breathing, quick and shallow, as if he were trying not to make a sound. — Rafael… — What? — He looked up, meeting her eyes. There was something predatory in his gaze, something she had never seen before. Or maybe it had always been there, and she just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. — You’re… — She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. — I’m what? — He moved closer, his lips almost touching her ear. — Touching you? Laura closed her eyes. The scent of him—expensive soap mixed with something more primal, something like clean sweat and desire—filled her nostrils. She should have pushed him away. Should have stepped back, adjusted her dress, gone back to the report as if nothing had happened. But her muscles wouldn’t obey. — Yes, — she whispered. Rafael smiled against her skin, his teeth grazing her earlobe lightly. — And you like it. It wasn’t a question. Laura didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. Rafael didn’t waste time. His lips trailed down her neck in a wet, slow path, while his hands slid up her dress, his fingers tangling in the lace of her panties. She moaned softly, the sound muffled against his shoulder. — Rafael, we can’t… — Can’t what? — He nipped at her collarbone, his fingers finding the elastic of her panties. — Stay here? Make noise? — His voice was a rough whisper. — Or admit that you want this as much as I do? Laura had no answer. Or she did, but couldn’t formulate it. Not when his fingers were already sliding inside her, slow, exploratory, as if memorizing every inch. She grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, and let out a shaky sigh. — This is madness. — The best kind of madness I’ve ever known, — he murmured, kissing her again, this time on the mouth, his lips hot and demanding. Laura responded, her tongue tangling with his, her body arching against the hand that penetrated her with maddening precision. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, Rafael stopped. Laura opened her eyes, confused, her chest heaving. — What…? He smiled, a slow, dangerous smile, as he withdrew his fingers from inside her. Laura felt the emptiness like a loss, a silent protest echoing between her legs. — Not here, — he said, his voice rough. — Not like this. — Why? — She barely recognized her own voice, so thick with desire. Rafael cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. — Because when I have you for real, Laura, it won’t be in the middle of a conference room with the risk of someone walking in. — He pressed his lips to hers, a quick, almost chaste kiss. — It’ll be somewhere I can hear you scream my name without fear. Laura felt her whole body tremble. The desire, once contained, now pulsed in every nerve, an almost painful need. — And where would that be? — she asked, her voice trembling. Rafael smiled, his eyes dark with promises. — You’ll see. And then, with one last stolen kiss, he stepped back, leaving her there, trembling, wet, and completely lost. Outside, the rain kept falling, relentless. Inside the office, the air was charged with electricity. And Laura knew, with a certainty that burned more than any desire, that nothing would ever be the same again. The rain beat against the windows of the conference room like impatient fingers, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the accelerated pulse in Laura’s chest. The office was plunged into twilight, lit only by the cold glow of the monitors and the intermittent flashes of lightning tearing through the sky. She could still feel the lingering heat of Rafael’s lips on hers, the taste of coffee mixed with unquenched desire, the promise hanging in the air like a delicious threat. Rafael closed the door behind him with a soft click, the sound reverberating in the charged silence. When he turned around, his eyes met hers, dark, intense, as if they could see through her clothes, her skin, straight to the place where the fire already burned. Laura didn’t look away. She didn’t want to. The challenge was there, written in the way he bit his lower lip, in the way his fingers flexed slightly, as if already imagining the weight of her body under his. — Are you going to leave me like this? — Laura’s voice came out rougher than she intended, a thread of provocation woven into every syllable. — Wet, trembling… and alone? Rafael smiled, slow and dangerous. One step. Then another. The space between them shrank, and with it, Laura’s ability to think of anything but the way the fabric of his shirt stretched over his shoulders, how the buttons seemed about to give way under the pressure of his rising and falling chest. — Alone? — He stopped inches from her, the heat of his body radiating like a furnace. — Doesn’t seem like you’re alone. His hands found her waist, pulling her firmly until their bodies collided. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers instinctively tangling in his tie, pulling him closer. The first kiss wasn’t gentle. It was pure hunger, teeth grazing lips, tongues tangling in an ancient, urgent dance. Rafael groaned against her mouth, a guttural sound that vibrated through Laura, making her knees weaken. — Fuck, Laura… — He pulled back just enough to murmur against her skin, his lips tracing a damp path along her jaw, down her neck, to the collarbone exposed by her dress’s neckline. — You have no idea what I want to do to you. — Then show me. — The words came out in a breathless whisper, but laced with a boldness that surprised even her. Laura arched her body against his, feeling the evidence of his desire pressing against her stomach. — Here. Now. Rafael didn’t need further encouragement. With a quick movement, he lifted her by the hips, sitting her on the edge of the conference table. Papers flew, pens rolled to the floor, but neither cared. His hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress up until the fabric bunched at her waist. She shivered when his cool fingers touched the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, tracing slow, teasing circles. — Open for me, — he ordered, his voice rough, his eyes locked on hers as his fingers neared the center of her desire. Laura obeyed, her legs parting in a silent invitation, her high heels digging into the edge of the table. Rafael smiled, satisfied, and then his fingers found the damp lace of her panties. — Damn… you’re soaked. Laura bit her lip to stifle a moan when he moved the fabric aside, exposing her completely. The cool air of the room contrasted with the heat of his touch, and she arched her back when Rafael’s thumb found her clit, pressing with a precision that made her gasp. — Rafael… — His name came out as a plea, her nails digging into the wood of the table. — Please. — Please what? — He leaned over her, his lips brushing her ear as his fingers continued their slow, torturous work. — Do you want me to stop? Or do you want me to make you come right here, with the risk of someone hearing? Laura moaned, her whole body tensing. The idea of being caught, of someone knocking on the door and finding them like this, only heightened the excitement. She grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a hungry kiss, their tongues tangling as his fingers plunged inside her, first one, then two, stretching her, preparing her. — I want… — She gasped as he curled his fingers, hitting that sensitive spot that made her see stars. — I want you. All of you. Rafael let out a low growl, his lips descending down her neck, biting, sucking, leaving marks she’d have to hide the next day. His hands worked with a skill that made Laura wonder how many times he’d imagined this, how many nights he’d spent fantasizing about having her like this—given over, trembling, completely at his mercy. — You’ll have it, — he promised, his voice a growl. — But first, I want to taste you. Before Laura could react, Rafael slid off the table, kneeling between her legs. With a quick movement, he pulled her panties aside and buried his face between her thighs. Laura let out a muffled cry, her hands flying to his hair, pulling as his tongue explored her with a voracity that made her forget where they were. He licked, sucked, nipped, each movement calculated to bring her to the edge of the precipice. — Rafael… I’m going to… — Laura tried to warn, but the words were lost in a moan as he sucked her clit hard, his fingers still working inside her. The orgasm hit her like a wave, her whole body convulsing, her legs trembling as she tried to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. Rafael didn’t stop, prolonging the pleasure until she was limp, breathless, his fingers still inside her as he licked every drop. When he finally stood up, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with satisfaction, Laura could barely breathe. Rafael leaned over her, his lips finding hers in a deep kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue. — Delicious, — he murmured, his voice rough. — But I’m not done with you yet. Laura smiled, weak but determined. With a quick movement, she pushed him back, making him sit in one of the conference room chairs. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but didn’t resist when she knelt between his legs, her hands sliding up his thigh to find his zipper. — Now it’s my turn, — she said, her fingers already working to free his erection. Rafael groaned when she wrapped her hand around him, the skin hot and silky under her fingers. — To leave you as desperate as you left me. Rafael didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His eyes, fixed on her as Laura leaned in, said it all. When her tongue traced a slow path along the length of his cock, he let out a low curse, his hands tangling in the arms of the chair. Laura smiled, satisfied, and then took him into her mouth, her lips closing around him as her hands worked in sync. — Fuck, Laura… — Rafael arched his hips, pushing deeper, but she controlled him easily, her fingers tightening around the base as she sucked hard. He was close, she could tell by the tremor in his thighs, by the way his groans became more urgent. — Stop… I don’t want to come like this. Laura released him with a wet pop, her lips swollen, her eyes gleaming with mischief. — Don’t you? — She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before turning around, placing her hands on the table and arching her back. — Then tell me how you want it. Rafael didn’t need further invitation. In one swift movement, he stood up, pulling her against him, his erection pressing against her backside. Laura moaned when he moved her hair aside, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck before biting hard enough to leave a mark. — I want to be inside you, — he whispered, his hands sliding over her body, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples through the fabric of her dress. — I want to feel you clench around me as you come. I want to hear you scream my name. Laura turned in his arms, her lips finding his in a desperate kiss. Rafael’s hands slid down, pulling her dress up until it was bunched at her waist. With a quick movement, he lifted her, sitting her back on the table, her legs wrapping around his waist. — Condom, — Laura managed to say between kisses, her mind clouded with desire. — In my bag. Rafael didn’t waste time. He grabbed her bag, rummaging until he found the silver packet. Laura watched, hypnotized, as he tore it open with his teeth and rolled the condom over himself. When he returned to her, his eyes burning with lust, Laura didn’t resist. She pulled him closer, her nails digging into his back as he aligned himself at her entrance. — Now, — she whispered, her voice broken. — Please. Rafael didn’t make her wait. With one swift movement, he thrust into her, filling her completely. Laura let out a muffled cry, her nails digging into the table as he began to move, slow at first, but gaining speed with each thrust. — Fuck, you’re tight, — he grunted, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Laura couldn’t respond. The pleasure was too intense, each movement driving her closer to the edge. She pushed her hips back, meeting his thrusts, feeling him deeper and deeper. — Harder, — she begged, her voice breaking. Rafael obeyed. He held her tighter, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. Laura felt her orgasm approaching, a hot, overwhelming wave, and when he reached between her legs to rub her clit, she came, crying out his name as her body trembled. Rafael didn’t stop. He kept moving, chasing his own pleasure, until, with a low growl, he came inside her, his body shaking as he spilled himself. For a moment, they stayed like that, breathless, their bodies still joined. Laura could feel his heart beating against her back, fast and erratic, just like hers. Then Rafael pulled away, turning her to face him. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, slow and deep, as if still not satisfied. — That was… — she began, but the words failed her. — Incredible, — he finished, his wicked smile returning. Laura looked at him, feeling her body still tingling, desire already rekindling. — And now? Rafael adjusted his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. — Now, we start over. And before she could respond, he picked her up, carrying her back to the table, where their game was far from over. The archive room smelled of old paper and dust, a dry scent that contrasted with the humid heat of their bodies. The tall shelves, packed with folders and document boxes, created a maze of shadows, lit only by the dim light of a desk lamp in the corner. Rafael locked the door with a soft click, the sound echoing like a vow. Laura was already against him before he turned around, her hands sliding under his shirt, her nails lightly scratching the warm skin of his back. — Are you sure? — he murmured, his lips brushing her neck as his hands gripped her waist. The question wasn’t about consent, but about what would come after. About the weight of that decision. Laura didn’t answer with words. Instead, she pulled his shirt up, her fingers tracing the contours of his abdominal muscles before sliding down to his belt. The fabric of his pants was already tight, and she smiled as she felt the evidence of his desire against her palm. — I don’t want to be sure of anything, — she whispered, her voice rough. — I just want you. Rafael groaned softly, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and lift her effortlessly. Laura wrapped her legs around his waist, her high heels digging into the back of his legs as he carried her to the nearest table. The wooden surface was cold against her buttocks when he set her down, but the heat of his body soon warmed her skin. — Then have me, — he said, his voice rough, as he unbuttoned her blouse with deft fingers. The fabric parted, revealing her black lace bra, her nipples already hard beneath the thin material. Rafael didn’t waste time. He leaned forward, his mouth finding one breast, his tongue circling her nipple before sucking it hard. Laura arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as his hands explored her body. His fingers slid down, finding the zipper of her skirt and pulling it down in one swift motion. The skirt fell to the floor, leaving her in just her lingerie and heels, exposed and trembling. — You’re beautiful, — he murmured, his lips tracing a path of kisses down her stomach, to the edge of her panties. — So beautiful it hurts. Laura grabbed his head, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as he kissed her through the thin fabric. The heat of his mouth was almost unbearable, and she squirmed, her legs parting instinctively. — Rafael… — she moaned, his name a plea. He didn’t need further encouragement. With a quick movement, he pulled her panties aside, exposing her completely. His tongue found her center, hot and wet, exploring with an agonizing slowness. Laura grabbed the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white as he teased her, his lips and tongue working in a rhythm that left her teetering on the edge. — Please, — she begged, her voice breaking. — Don’t make me wait. Rafael lifted his head, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and amusement. — You’re impatient, — he murmured, but obeyed. He stood up, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his already painfully hard erection. Laura didn’t waste time. She slid off the table, pushing him back until he was leaning against one of the shelves. Her hands wrapped around him, her fingers sliding up and down in a slow, deliberate rhythm. — You too, — she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she stroked him. — And I like that. Rafael groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Laura smiled, knowing she had control now. With a fluid motion, she knelt in front of him, her mouth replacing her hands. Her tongue circled the tip before taking him fully, her lips closing around him with a pressure that made him arch his back. — Laura, — he growled, her name both a warning and a plea. She didn’t stop. She continued, her mouth and hand moving in sync, until he pulled her hair hard, pulling her away. — Enough, — he said, his voice rough. — I want to be inside you. Laura stood up, her lips swollen and her eyes gleaming. Rafael turned her around, pressing her against the shelf, his hands sliding down her back to unclasp her bra. With a quick movement, he undid it, letting it fall to the floor. His hands covered her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples as his mouth found her neck, biting and kissing. — I want you like this, — he murmured, his voice low and urgent. — But first, I want you another way. Before she could ask what he meant, Rafael picked her up again, carrying her to a corner of the room where a stack of boxes formed a narrow space. He set her on her feet, turning her to face the wall, and gently pressed her forward until her hands were braced against it. — Trust me, — he whispered, his lips brushing her ear as his hands slid down her thighs, lifting her slightly. Laura obeyed, her fingers curling against the cold wall as he positioned her. The tip of his cock pressed against her, and she bit her lip, anticipating the moment. Rafael didn’t make her wait. With a slow, deliberate movement, he entered her, filling her completely. — Oh, God, — she moaned, her nails scratching the wall as he began to move. Rafael set a relentless pace, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he thrust into her. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through her body, her moans mingling with his grunts. Laura felt her orgasm approaching, the pressure building inside her like a storm about to break. — Rafael, — she gasped, his name a plea. — I’m going to… — Wait, — he ordered, his voice rough. — Wait for me. Laura tried to obey, but the pleasure was too much. With a muffled cry, she came undone, her body trembling as the orgasm washed over her. Rafael held her tight, his movements becoming faster and more urgent until he too reached his climax, her name a rough groan on his lips. For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies joined, their breathing heavy echoing in the silence of the room. Laura felt his heart beating against her back, the heat of his body enveloping her like a cloak. Slowly, Rafael pulled away, helping her turn to face him and pulling her into his arms. — That was… — she began, but the words failed her. — Unbelievable, — he finished, his lips finding hers in a slow, deep kiss. Laura lost herself in the kiss, the taste of him mingling with her own. When he finally pulled back, she was breathless, her eyes meeting his. — And now? — she asked, her voice still trembling. Rafael smiled, a slow, dangerous smile that made her heart race. — Now, we start over. And before she could respond, he picked her up, carrying her back to the table, where their game was far from over. The alarm went off at six-thirty, a shrill sound that cut through the silence of Laura’s apartment like a blade. She reached out, fumbling on the nightstand until she found her phone, her fingers still numb from sleep. When she turned off the alarm, a groan escaped her lips—not from exhaustion, but from the immediate, vivid memory of the night before. Every muscle in her body seemed marked, as if Rafael had left invisible fingerprints on her skin. The gray morning light seeped into the room through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the clothes scattered across the floor: the wrinkled dress, the black lace panties tangled around the leg of a chair, the high heels abandoned near the door. She sat up slowly, the sheet slipping down to her waist, and ran her fingers over her lips, still swollen from kisses. His taste lingered, a mix of coffee, whiskey, and something more primal, something she couldn’t name. In the bathroom, the mirror reflected a different woman. Her eyes shone with an intensity she didn’t recognize, her cheeks flushed even without makeup. Laura turned on the shower and let the scalding water run over her shoulders, trying to wash away the feeling that, somehow, everyone at the office would know. But the soap didn’t erase the memories—Rafael’s hands on her thigh, the pressure of his fingers on her hips, the way he had whispered her name like a prayer. She dressed carefully, choosing a navy-blue suit she knew he liked—fitted at the waist, the skirt a little shorter than usual. As she pinned her hair into a loose bun, she left a few strands loose, as if the wind (or impatient fingers) had tousled them. Before leaving, she sprayed on the perfume he had once complimented, the one with notes of vanilla and amber, and smiled at herself in the mirror. *Today*, she thought, *I won’t just be the dedicated analyst. I’ll be the woman he can’t get out of his mind.* --- The elevator in the office building was packed when the doors opened on the ground floor. Laura squeezed in at the last moment, wedging herself between a man in a gray suit and a woman with a briefcase full of papers. The air was thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and expensive perfume, but all she could feel was her own heart pounding, as if it already knew Rafael was there before she even saw him. He was facing away, near the control panel, wearing a black blazer that hugged his broad shoulders. Laura watched the line of his neck, where a few dark strands of hair escaped the perfect order, and remembered how she had nipped at that spot in the darkness of the archive room. A heat rose up her spine, and she bit her lower lip, trying to compose herself. Then Rafael turned around. Their eyes met immediately, as if drawn by a magnet. For a second, the world around them seemed to disappear—the murmur of conversations, the jingle of keys, the creak of the elevator rising. There was only the two of them, and the memory of the night before pulsing between their bodies, as tangible as an electric wire. Laura smiled, a slow, knowing smile, and Rafael tilted his head slightly, his lips curving in response. It was an almost imperceptible gesture, but heavy with promises. *You missed me*, his gaze said. *So did I*, hers answered. Someone behind her coughed, and reality reasserted itself. The elevator stopped on the third floor, and more people got in, pushing Laura closer to Rafael. For a moment, their bodies touched—his arm brushing against hers, his warm breath near her ear. She held her breath, catching the scent of his soap mixed with the woody cologne she now associated with nights of pleasure. — Good morning, — he murmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear. — Good morning, — she replied, and there was a whole world in that simple exchange. The elevator kept rising, and Laura realized she was holding her breath. When the doors opened on the tenth floor, she stepped out first, feeling his gaze burn her back. But before she could walk away, Rafael caught her wrist for a second—just long enough to run his thumb over the inside of her wrist, where the skin was thinner, more sensitive. — Don’t be late for the nine o’clock meeting, — he said, loud enough for the others to hear. But his eyes said something else: *I’ll see you in five minutes. In the bathroom. In my office. Anywhere I can touch you again.* Laura nodded, swallowing hard, and walked down the hallway, aware that every step made the fabric of her dress brush between her thighs, reminding her of how he had touched her there the night before. --- The nine o’clock meeting was a blur. Laura sat at the conference table, her fingers tapping on the folder of documents as Rafael presented the new projects. She barely heard the words—she was too busy watching the way the morning light illuminated the line of his jaw, how his hands moved with precision as he pointed at the screen, how his lips curved when he made an inside joke with the marketing department. At one point, their eyes met across the table, and Laura felt her face heat up. Rafael held her gaze a second longer than necessary, then deliberately ran his tongue over his lower lip. It was a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, but it made her stomach clench. When the meeting ended, she stood up quickly, needing air. In the hallway, Rafael caught up to her in three strides. — Laura, — he called, his voice low. — I need you to review the data from the São Paulo branch report. Can you come to my office? She nodded, feeling her heart race. *Yes*, she thought. *Anything, as long as I can touch you again.* His office was exactly as she remembered—mahogany desk, shelves full of management books, the window with a view of the city. But now there was something different in the air, a tension that made her skin tingle. Rafael closed the door behind her, and before she could say anything, he pushed her against the wall. — You’re trying to kill me, — he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. — Wearing this dress. This perfume. Laura laughed, a low, husky sound, and ran her hands over his chest. — And you’re trying to distract me from work. — Is it working? She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled him into a kiss, her hands tangling in his hair as she felt his body press against hers. Rafael groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding down her waist, pulling her closer. — We need to be quick, — she whispered, but there was no conviction in her voice. — Then let’s not waste time, — he replied, and lifted her onto the edge of the desk. Laura parted her legs instinctively, and Rafael settled between them, his hands sliding up her skirt until they found the lace of her panties. She bit her lip when he touched her through the fabric, a moan escaping before she could stop it. — Shhh, — he murmured, his fingers sliding beneath the lace, finding her already wet. — Someone might hear. Laura arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders. — Then don’t stop. Rafael didn’t stop. He kissed her hard as his fingers worked, slow and relentless, until she was breathless, her hips moving against his hand. When she came, it was with a muffled moan against his chest, her body trembling. — That, — he whispered, kissing her again. — Was just the beginning. Laura smiled, still breathless, and pushed him back, making him sit in the office chair. In one fluid motion, she knelt between his legs, her hands working on his belt. — Your turn, — she said, her eyes gleaming. Rafael didn’t protest. --- Later, when they finally left his office—Laura with swollen lips and slightly disheveled hair, Rafael with his tie loose and a satisfied smile—they met again in the elevator. This time, they were alone. Laura leaned against the mirrored wall, watching Rafael press the button for the ground floor. When the doors closed, he turned to her, his eyes dark with desire. — Tonight, — he said, his voice rough. — My apartment. Eight o’clock. Laura smiled, feeling her body already anticipating what was to come. — I won’t be late. The doors opened on the ground floor, and they stepped out side by side, their fingers brushing lightly. They didn’t need words. After the night before, after that morning, they knew nothing would ever be the same again. And deep down, neither of them wanted it to be.