Jxsjjfjdkakdnmm

Darius (III) one shot

"Is it that Andrei again, hm?" He didn't sit down in the chair behind a desk. Instead, he leaned against the edge of the desk, just a few inches from you. He was dressed in dark black and grey, every crease and fold of fabric falling into place like it had been meticulously placed that way.

"No..." you whispered. "I mean yes, he didn't leave me alone after we spoke. I mean, he did for a while..."

"Well, it's hardly been a week. You can't expect every miracle to happen overnight, dear," he said, leaning to grab a glass with a sliver of scotch left on the bottom from a secret drawer of a cupboard. He drank it in one smooth motion before gesturing for you to get up. You did so silently and he walked closer to you.

"You do have a point Darius," you agreed. Darius smirked, before a cool hand slipped under your blouse and pressed against the small of your back, pulling you into him. You breathed in sharply through your nose. His hand was icy against your heated skin, and the thick cologne from the pulse point on his neck began to overwhelm you.

You could feel him against you, barely moving. You, on the other hand, were shivering and quaking with need and arousal. Your heart was racing a million miles per hour.

This was the game, and every time, you lost.

You had to be quiet. Every time in here, you had to be silent as a mouse when he touched you. Nothing suspicious was allowed to come out of that room. But Darius liked to push you until you were close to breaking by having to hide your pleasure. You wondered if there were any evidences he had to destroy already because of your weak sounds and gasps.

"You seem a bit feverish, are you quite well?" Darius continued, her voice booming by your ear.

"I'm a little warm, but nothing else," you replied with all the ease you could muster.

"Do you mind if I check?"

"Not at all."

A second hand came up to press against your forehead as if checking your temperature. You were sure it was scorching, but not for any sickness-related reasons.

Then it reached down to your neck, the coolness startling your sensitive skin. You let out a small, breathy gasp at the feeling, and his eyes shot up to yours immediately.

"Why don't you lie down," he suggested, letting go of your body. "I don't want you fainting in Andrei's office."

You did as he asked, lying down like you had so many times. He would pull up a chair during your sessions and ask drawled-out questions related to your health, while he pressed against your cunt or made you play with yourself until you couldn't bear it.

This time, he stayed standing, your blonde curls falling loose into his sight as he looked down at you.

"Take a few deep breaths for me," he said, but that was impossible because his fingers were trailing up your legs.

"Good," he pretended as if you had done as he asked, and now his fingers were deep under your skirts, pulling at your stockings and clasps to make room for him. They moved quickly and clumsily under the thick fabrics, and you could tell he was losing just as much patience as you.

Then a single finger tapped your clit and your body tensed as rapidly as a pencil snapping in half. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Why don't you walk me through what your day has been like so far?"

Then three fingers slid in mercilessly and began curling and pressing against your frontal walls. Your jaw went slack and your eyes glossed over at Darius's grinning lips.

"Come now, are you really that forgetful?"

"Sorry," you managed to get out, because now his other hand was gripping your jaw and forcing you to stare at him. His fingers inside of you were working at a faster pace with every passing second, with no intention of stopping. The way they were angled meant there was no unsavoury sounds from him pulling his hand out, which he barely did anyways. There was nothing to give you a break from his unforgiving presence.

You managed to tell him what you had for breakfast and how you went down to the shops in the morning, but a pathetic whimper from his rough hand holding your jaw made you cease.

"Don't cry, my dear," Darius said, "I'm only here to help."

"Yes, I know," but it only sounded like another weak mewl.

Then his thumb pressed just by your clit, sending fire through your body and his fingers dug so deep that you didn't think he would ever get his hand back. Your whole body went rigid. He fucked you through the orgasm, rubbing that sensitive spot inside you that made you quiver with overstimulation.

It was overwhelming every time. You were scrabbling for purchase on the bench below you, and then grabbed his pants without looking. Your nails dug into his thigh, feeling smooth velvet under your hands as well as muscle and flesh that you wished you could see for yourself.

Darius was smiling at your face as you tried so hard to keep it together. One day he'd get you to cry and scream while he's recording so he'd have something a little more substantial to listen to on his own time.

"Now wasn't that helpful to let it out?" he released your jaw and you breathed heavily, not letting go of him.

"Yes," you could only say. His fingers were still inside, moving slower and slower. Your legs were so tensed you didn't think you'd be able to get up again.

Then suddenly his presence disappeared, leaving you empty. He stepped away so you could get up and swing your legs over the side to stand up.

"Good girl," he complimented, but not with a sultry tone. It was like he was praising a sweet pet for following a command. You didn't think it differed much.

You got up on your feet and brushed your hair into place. Your cheeks felt rosy and you rubbed them with your fingers to make it seem like you had just overdone it on the rouge.

There was a shaking of a bottle and Darius held out a small dosage of tiny pills for you to take. You took them and stuffed them in your pocket, knowing you'd only bring them back to him later.

"Thank you again, Darius," you said, still feeling wetness between your legs. But that was the beauty of layered skirts, no one would be able to tell. Not on the bus, not on the sidewalk, not in the shops.

"Of course, dear. Take care. I'll see you next week, the same time."

Andbefore you could leave the room his arm had wrapped around you and his mouthhad hungrily kissed yours. You tasted the remnants of scotch and let him devouryou.

His nails dug into your sides and your body arched back into his again. Eventually, he wrangled himself away from you and gestured for you to leave through the door. You could barely hold yourself together and gave him one last glance to see him smiling at you with sated eyes.