"Oh Fuck!!"
Belle moaned and Gavin sucked her nipples, his large hands squeezing at her firm flesh as she writhed underneath him. His big hands were warm against her hot skin even through the layers of their clothes, and Belle's eyes closed as pleasure pulsed through her veins like electricity.
She sighed into Gavin's mouth before pulling away to breath heavily as he released her breasts from their bondage and trailed wet kisses down her stomach. Her thighs tightened around his hips instinctively, her fingers digging into the thick muscles there as she felt another wave of arousal rush through her. It was too much, all of it, but not enough, the way they moved together always made everything seem perfect when they did it.
He further moved down to her clit, giving it a slow stroke with his thumb until she squirmed beneath him again and let out a quiet moan. He leaned back up to look her in the face, eyes brightening slightly at her expression.
"You are mine Belle!!"
He whispered to her, leaning down so that their lips almost touched. His gaze never left hers. They shared one another’s space like two pieces of a puzzle, each piece matching perfectly just right, and Belle didn’t ever want this to end, this wonderful feeling.
And then she finally snapped out of it, she was fucking her boss
********
Two weeks earlier
****
The elevator doors slid open with a chime, and Belle Fontaine stepped into the bustling office of Vanguard Ventures, her sharp heels clicking against the polished marble floors.
The open-plan office was alive with the sound of ringing phones, the hum of conversation, and the rhythmic clatter of keyboards. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting a golden glow on the space, but Belle barely noticed. Her mind was already consumed by her to-do list.
Clutching her coffee cup in one hand and her laptop bag in the other, she made her way to her desk, weaving through the maze of workstations. She set her things down, turned on her computer, and immediately dove into her tasks. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she reviewed reports, responded to emails, and double-checked the pitch deck she’d been working on for weeks.
The Hayward Project—a massive deal for the firm—rested heavily on her shoulders. It was a make-or-break moment for her, especially with Charles Donovan, her boss, breathing down her neck at every turn. He was brilliant but insufferable, his razor-sharp wit often cutting deeper than necessary.
Belle didn’t hate her job—she loved the challenge of marketing and strategy—but working under someone like Charles made her question why she stayed.
“Belle, did you finish the pitch deck for the Hayward Project?”
She glanced up to see Marissa, her coworker and perpetual thorn in her side, standing nearby. Marissa’s tone was clipped, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping impatiently against the edge of Belle’s desk.
“Yes, I sent it this morning,” Belle replied evenly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
Marissa didn’t bother with a response. She simply turned and walked away, her designer heels clicking loudly as she made her way back to her corner of the office.
“Good morning to you too,” Belle muttered under her breath before turning her attention back to her screen.
Belle glanced to her right and saw Sophia King leaning against her desk, her arms crossed and a sly smile playing on her lips. Sophia’s curly brown hair framed her face, and her warm hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. Unlike most of their colleagues, Sophia had a knack for making even the most stressful situations feel lighter.
“What’s her problem?” Sophia whispered, tilting her head toward Marissa’s retreating figure.
Belle sighed, shutting her laptop for a moment. “You mean aside from her being Marissa?”
Sophia snorted and perched on the edge of Belle’s desk. “True. That woman treats everyone like they’re beneath her. I mean, if arrogance were an Olympic sport, she’d have more gold medals than anyone.”
Belle chuckled despite herself. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She might actually add ‘Olympic-level condescension’ to her LinkedIn profile.”
Sophia grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” Her expression softened as she leaned closer. “Seriously though, you okay? You’ve been running around like a headless chicken all week.”
Belle sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m fine, just busy. The Hayward Project is taking up every ounce of my energy. And on top of that, I have to deal with Charles micromanaging everything.”
Sophia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, Charles Donovan. The office tyrant. Does he ever loosen up?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Belle said, shaking her head. “It’s like he thinks perfection is the bare minimum.”
Sophia gave her a sympathetic look. “Well, just remember—perfection may be his minimum, but sanity is yours. Don’t let him drive you crazy.”
Belle smiled, grateful for Sophia’s constant support. “Thanks, Soph. You always know how to make me feel better.”
“That’s what best friends are for,” Sophia said, giving her a playful nudge. “Now, are we still on for lunch later? I heard there’s a new sushi place a few blocks away.”
Belle glanced at the clock. “I wish, but I don’t think I’ll have time. I have two meetings back-to-back, and then I need to prep for tomorrow’s presentation.”
Sophia pouted. “Fine, but you owe me. And don’t forget to actually eat something, okay? You’re no good to anyone if you pass out from hunger.”
Belle laughed. “Yes, Mom. I’ll grab something quick.”
As Sophia stood to leave, she gave Belle a pointed look. “And if Marissa or Charles gives you too much grief, just say the word. I’ll take them down for you.”
“Thanks, but I think HR might frown on that,” Belle joked.
“HR schmar. That’s what best friends are for,” Sophia said with a wink before heading back to her own desk.
Belle watched her go, feeling a little lighter. Sophia had a way of cutting through the noise and reminding Belle that she wasn’t alone.
---
The hours flew by in a blur of meetings, emails, and strategy sessions. Belle barely had time to eat lunch, grabbing bites of a protein bar between tasks. By mid-afternoon, her desk was covered in a sea of documents, and she was on her third cup of coffee.
“Belle,” came Charles’s deep, authoritative voice from behind her. She turned to see him towering over her desk, his sharp gray suit tailored to perfection. His dark eyes bore into hers, his expression unreadable.
“Yes, Mr. Donovan?”
“Have you updated the competitive analysis in the pitch deck? The client will want to see projections against current market trends,” he said, his tone curt but professional.
“Yes, I included it in the latest version,” Belle replied, maintaining eye contact despite the way his presence made her pulse race.
“Good,” he said with a slight nod. “I’ll review it before tomorrow’s meeting. Make sure it’s flawless.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her with a mixture of relief and irritation. He always demanded perfection, and while Belle prided herself on her work ethic, his constant scrutiny was exhausting.
As the day wore on, the office slowly emptied out, with most of her coworkers eager to escape the confines of their desks. By 7:00 p.m., Belle was one of the last people left. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head as she surveyed the quiet space.
“Finally,” she murmured to herself.
She began shutting down her computer and packing up her things, eager to get home and unwind with a glass of wine and her favorite TV show. But as she reached for her bag, a sudden thought struck her—her phone.
“Damn it,” she muttered. She had left it in one of the meeting rooms during a brainstorming session earlier in the day.
Reluctantly, Belle slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way down the hallway, her heels echoing in the empty space. The office felt eerily quiet now, the usual buzz replaced by an almost oppressive silence.
As she approached the meeting room, she heard something—faint at first, but unmistakable. A soft moan.
Belle froze, her heart skipping a beat. She strained her ears, unsure if she’d imagined it. But then she heard it again, louder this time.
Curiosity—and a hint of dread—propelled her forward. She stepped closer to the slightly ajar door and peeked inside.
What she saw made her stomach drop.
There, in the dimly lit room, was Charles Donovan—her boss. His tie was loose, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his hands gripped the hips of the woman pressed against the table. The woman was none other than Marissa.
Belle’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the scene unfold. Marissa let out another moan, her head thrown back as Charles kissed her neck. His hands roamed over her body, their movements heated and urgent.
Belle’s first instinct was to turn and run, but her feet refused to move. She stood frozen in place, her mind racing.
This can’t be happening, she thought.
Charles, the cold and unapproachable boss who demanded professionalism at all times, was locked in a passionate embrace with the office’s most insufferable coworker.
Belle felt a surge of anger and disbelief. Marissa, who always looked down on her, who took credit for her ideas and treated her like an assistant, was now entangled with the man who made Belle’s life a daily challenge.
She finally snapped out of her trance and stepped back, her heels making a soft sound against the floor.
Charles’s head whipped around, his sharp eyes locking onto hers.
“Belle,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Marissa spun around as well, her face flushed and her hair disheveled.
Belle’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she forced herself to meet Charles’s gaze.
“I—uh—I forgot my phone,” she stammered, gesturing weakly toward the table where it lay forgotten.
Charles’s expression darkened, but he said nothing. Marissa quickly adjusted her dress, her smug demeanor replaced with one of panic.
“I’ll just grab it and go,” Belle said, her voice trembling. She stepped into the room, avoiding their eyes as she snatched her phone from the table.
As she turned to leave, Charles’s voice stopped her.
“Belle.”
She paused, her hand on the doorframe.
“Not a word of this,” he said, his tone cold and commanding.
Belle swallowed hard and nodded before hurrying out of the room. Her heart pounded as she made her way back to her desk, grabbed her things, and practically ran to the elevator.
As the doors closed behind her, she let out a shaky breath. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, disbelief, humiliation.
She had always known Charles was arrogant, but this? This was something else entirely.
And Marissa… Belle clenched her fists, anger simmering beneath the surface. She’d put up with Marissa’s condescending attitude for years, but now she had something on her—something big.
As the elevator descended, Belle couldn’t help but wonder how this revelation would change things.
---
Belle spent the rest of the evening replaying the scene in her mind, her emotions swinging wildly between anger and disbelief. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the couch, staring at her phone.
Should she tell someone? Confront them? Or simply pretend it never happened?
The latter seemed the safest option, but the thought of letting Marissa and Charles get away with their behavior made her blood boil.
As she sipped her wine, Belle made a silent vow.
Things are going to change, she thought. One way or another, I’m done letting people like them walk all over me.
She didn’t know how yet, but she was determined to take control of her life—and her career.
