Title: Dirty Deal
Forbidden Billionaire Series
"Stupid dust," Elena muttered softly, dragging the cloth over the polished surface of Damien's large mahogany desk. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting golden lines across the office floor. The room smelled of expensive cologne, leather, and the faint scent of coffee—familiar and unsettling.
Her fingers paused for a moment as she glanced at the towering leather chair behind the desk. It was where he usually sat, silent and watchful, with eyes that saw too much. The chair still held a hint of his scent—sharp, masculine, intoxicating.
She hated that she noticed.
Just as she turned to dust the bookshelf, the soft click of the door echoed behind her. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.
A shadow stretched across the floor.
"You missed a spot," a deep voice said, low and smooth.
Elena spun halfway around. Her heart slammed into her chest as Damien appeared behind her, moving closer before she could react. His strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her firmly against his body.
She gasped and jumped, startled. "M-Mr. Damien…"
His lips brushed the edge of her cheek, warm and slow. Her entire body went stiff.
Then, he lowered his head, pressing his nose to the side of her neck. He took in a long breath, his mouth dangerously close to her skin.
"You smell like peaches," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "Sweet. Fresh. Innocent."
His hand moved lower, fingers grazing the hem of her blouse. The warmth of his palm through the thin fabric made her legs feel weak.
"Tell me, Elena," he said slowly, "how many men have touched you like this?"
She flinched, heart hammering in her chest. "I—I don't… Mr. Damien, p-please let go."
Damien let out a deep, amused chuckle. "Stuttering already?" His voice was rough and mocking. "I haven't even started."
Before she could move away, he turned her around swiftly. Now she was facing him, her back pressed against the edge of the desk. His arms remained around her waist, holding her still.
"Tell me," he murmured, his dark eyes burning into hers, "who was your first?"
Elena looked up at him, startled. She swallowed hard. "I-I don't know what you're talking about…"
"Oh really?" he said, one brow lifting. "So you're telling me… you're still a virgin?"
Her eyes dropped to the floor, avoiding his gaze.
"Elena," he whispered, his tone softer now, almost teasing, "is that true?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "This isn't part of my job. Please stop."
She pushed weakly at his chest, but he didn't move. Instead, he smiled. Then, without a word, he lifted her effortlessly and sat her down on top of the desk.
Her skirt rode up slightly as she shifted her legs, trying to close the space between them.
He leaned in again, his breath brushing over her ear.
"Tell me, Elena," he whispered. "You've never had it with anyone?" His voice was warm and dark. "That's… adorable."
Her cheeks turned red as she looked away, ashamed, confused, and frustrated all at once. "Please…"
"What if," Damien said suddenly, "I paid you a million… to take it from you?"
Her eyes widened in shock. She stared at him, unable to believe what she just heard. "W-what are you saying, sir?"
He looked pleased with her reaction. "I'm saying I want to buy your virginity. One million dollars. No strings. Just one night."
Her entire body tensed. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought he might hear it.
"I'm not interested, sir," she said firmly, her voice shaking.
She pushed against his chest again, and this time, he let her go.
She slid off the desk, grabbed a folded tablecloth nearby, and rushed toward the door, her hands trembling.
Once she reached her room, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to calm herself.
"What the hell is Mr. Damien up to?" she whispered.
She clutched the tablecloth against her chest and began pacing.
"Why would he offer me a million dollars… for that?"
She shook her head, confused and upset. "He already has Taslah and Lilah. Aren't they enough for him?"
She sat on the edge of her bed, the silence thick around her.
Why her?
Meanwhile, upstairs in his bedroom, Damien stood shirtless in front of the tall window, one hand resting against the glass. The golden evening light poured over his body, casting shadows on his toned chest and strong arms. His jaw was sharp, lips curved into a lazy smirk as he watched the sky change from orange to deep blue.
He picked up his phone, dialed a familiar number, and pressed it to his ear.
"Come over," he said in a low, commanding voice. "Now."
He didn't wait for a response before ending the call. He already knew they would come.
Two hours later, a sleek black car glided into the driveway, its engine purring softly before it came to a stop in front of the estate.
The back door opened.
Taslah stepped out first, long legs unfolding as she stood up straight, the tight black dress hugging every curve of her body. Her red heels clicked against the stone path, each step confident and slow. Her lips were painted dark red, her eyes bold with sharp black liner. She ran a hand through her silky brown hair and smiled.
Right behind her, Lilah stepped out. She wore a silver gown that clung to her body like a second skin. A high slit revealed her smooth thigh with every step. Her heels sparkled under the estate lights. Unlike Taslah, she wore no smile—only that calm, sultry look she always had, like she was bored but dangerous.
The two women didn't knock.
They didn't have to.
Inside, Damien was waiting.
He sat at the edge of his bed, shirtless, in nothing but dark lounge pants that sat low on his hips. The room smelled like spice, leather, and him.
When he heard their heels click across the marble floor outside, he leaned back slightly, resting on his arms. His eyes were half-lidded, but alert. The moment the door opened, he didn't bother looking surprised.
They stepped in, silent and sexy.
He looked up.
His voice was deep and steady.
"Lilah," he said, rising to his feet. His eyes dragged slowly over her body. "Strip."
Lilah raised an eyebrow but didn't speak.
She reached for the small straps on her shoulders and slowly slid them down. The silver gown slipped past her breasts, exposing soft, glowing skin. She let it fall to the floor with a whisper, standing there in nothing but sheer lace underwear.
Damien's gaze darkened.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of her long black hair over her shoulder.
"Turn around," he said softly.
Lilah obeyed, spinning slowly until her back was to him. Her back was bare, her hips smooth and tempting. He took a slow breath, the heat in his eyes growing stronger.