The office was quieter than usual after hours, and most of the staff had already gone. The city outside bled through the glass walls in a low, distant thrum of traffic, voices, the restless pulse of New York. Broken only by the sharp click of heels against polished floors.
Lilly hesitated near her desk, her bag already packed, ready to leave. Just then, Maria's phone rang. The older woman picked it up, her tone brisk and professional, "Yes, Mr. Bergen," A pause, and then, "I'll send her right away."
Maria turned toward Lilly, her eyes narrowing, "Mr. Bergen wants to see you in his office now."
Lilly's heart skipped. After work? Her pulse quickened as she straightened her blouse and walked toward the large corner office. She knocked gently, her knuckles almost trembling.
"Come in," Mark's voice called from within.
She pushed the door open and froze.
Luna was already there. She was leaning over Mark's desk, her blouse dipping low, her lips dangerously close to his. The scene punched a sharp pang into Lilly's chest, though she tried not to let it show.
Mark looked up, his expression shifting the moment his eyes landed on Lilly. Something flickered in his gaze, a restrained irritation, almost like he'd been moments away from shoving Luna back.
"Close the door, Miss Levine," he said smoothly.
Lilly obeyed, the soft click of the door cutting off the outside world.
Luna straightened immediately, her sharp laugh bitter enough to sting, "So she is the reason why you don't call me into your office anymore, huh?" she hissed, her tone brimming with jealousy, "Because of her?" She turned, her glare burning into Lilly like daggers.
Mark rose from his chair, his presence filling the room, his voice dangerously calm, "Know your place, Luna. Now get out, I have business to talk to with Miss Levine."
Luna's face twisted with anger, her hands curling into fists at her sides, "Business... Yeah, sure..." she spat, as if the word itself were poison. Her eyes darted between Mark and Lilly, seething, her fury radiating off her in waves.
Lilly felt the heat of Luna's glare but didn't return it fully. She only slid her gaze at her from the corner of her eye.
The tension snapped as Luna stormed past her, slamming the door so hard the frame shook.
Then the office fell silent.
Mark turned back to Lilly, his calm returning like the tide. He motioned her closer with a simple flick of his fingers, "Come here."
Her legs trembled as she moved to his side. The atmosphere pressed in, dense and suffocating, as though the weight of gravity itself was drawn to him.
"How was your day, Miss Levine?" His voice was deceptively casual, his eyes sharp, searching something in her eyes.
"G-good..." she managed, though her throat was tight, her voice strained under the weight of his presence.
"Good," he echoed softly.
Then his hand moved. It settled lightly against her hamstring, the sudden warmth of his palm against the bare skin beneath her skirt making her body jolt. She gasped softly, instinctively stiffening, but she didn't move away. She couldn't.
Mark's hand lingered, stroking slowly, deliberately, as though savoring the feel of her skin. Her breath hitched, her pulse racing so hard she thought he might hear it.
His hand slid higher, brushing against the edge of her skirt, then beneath it, his fingers gliding over her thigh with maddening patience. Each inch he climbed stole more of her breath, left her knees weaker, her resolve thinner.
Lilly's world shrank to the warmth of his touch, the closeness of his body, the suffocating scent of his rich cologne.
Her lips parted, but no words came. Her body betrayed her, trembling under his control, heat pooling where his hand inched dangerously close.
"Do you know what I see?" Mark's voice was low, velvet, and steel. His thumb brushed along the sensitive inside of her thigh, and she bit down on her lip to stop a whimper, "I see someone who pretends to resist, but whose body…" He pressed slightly firmer, stopping just before the ache of her center. "…is already mine."
The room spun, the suffocating air wrapping tighter around her chest. Her hands clenched at her sides, caught between shame, desire, and the terrifying truth of his words.
Her breath shuddered as she finally dared to look at him. His gaze was merciless, dark, as if he was peeling back every layer of her, seeing everything she tried to hide.
She was burning, and he knew it.
"Now," he whispered, his hand slipping higher, "let's test just how much you can take."