Work Text:
Maria uncrossed her arms as the elevator dinged, opening quickly before her. Her long black hair drapes perfectly over her back, swaying behind her as she takes a step out. She nods to Nick, truly a creation of her own making. But that was a story for another day.
Her pale skin was lit up by the floor to ceiling windows of the 92nd floor- as she walked past the beautiful secretary who looked too much like her for her own good.
She walks down the short and wide luxurious hall, to a pair of dark metal doors. Her resting face had become a smirk for the past day, as it always had when she was in a good mood.
She opens the door with ease, stepping into the large, expensive office. Floor to ceiling windows in a semi curve, and the desk in the middle.
But of course, the main appeal was who was sitting at it. Liam Wells. The man she’d been raised with, known ever so intimately. The man who feared her every glance, step, and touch. The man who adored her every glance, step, and touch. She always found it ironically endearing.
He sat at his desk, staring at his computer. His tan skin had become pale ever since he officially took over the company. His perfectly styled, short black hair stood out of the way of his glasses.
She also admired his wardrobe. How a man could wear a suit every day, no matter the occasion, she never knew. Nor really cared. He always tried far too hard for her liking.
“Maria.” He spoke, surprised. Most of her visits were unannounced, but he always seemed to be taken aback.
“Liam.” She spoke with a smile, walking over to his desk. He sat up and faced her, immediately dropping attention from his work.
“That secretary of yours is too cute. It’s funny, did you realize she looks like me when you hired her?” She asks idly, but internally prying. Her words were always minced, careful, precise- exactly tailored to rile him up.
“I- Yes, I noticed that.” He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. She smiles to herself.
“And I suppose you fantasize about her as well?” She inquires, sitting across from him.
“No, of course not. That would be highly inappropriate.” He scoffs, looking scandalized. He adjusts his glasses and stares, eyes ever so slightly narrowed.
“Not that that’s ever stopped you before.”
His lips purse. He sighs. “Why are you here, Maria? Just to inquire about my secretary?”
She crosses a leg and sighs.
“No, I’m not. The AI line is being produced, and I want to ensure it’s going to go smoothly. We’ve been working on this for far too long. There will not be any mistakes- there can’t be.”
He nods. “Of course.”
“And what of Nick? Has he been performing adequately? I’ve quite missed having him down in the lab.” She reminisces, looking out the window at the massive neon cityscape.
“Of course.” Liam nods matter-of-factly, shifting the ring around his thumb, “He’s been behaving perfectly.”
“Good.” She takes a second to look around, and chuckles, “Remember when I used to work alongside you? That might just have been the start of everything.”
He swallows dryly and stares at her, waiting for where exactly she might be going with this.
“Liam. Can I ask you something?” She asks idly, standing up and putting her hands on his desk.
He stares at her hands, and then up at her face. He nods after a moment of hesitation. Perfect.
She breathes out, taking a moment to let him know she’s looking over his features with near disdain.
“Whenever you take that elevator down every day, how many times do you fantasize about me fucking you in it?” She inquires, leaning forward.
Liam reels, face flushing lightly. “M-Maria- I- don’t ask me that.” His gaze immediately flutters around the room nervously.
“Me, pressing you up on that wall, ripping open your shirt. Pulling your pants down just enough for me to get inside you. Be honest, how often?” She presses, looking down at him, condescension flowing off her in waves.
Liam’s mouth falls open, and he blinks, processing. He can’t seem to find the words, and just flits his eyes over his desk submissively.
“Eyes up here, Liam.” she commands softly, watching his face flush as he meets her eyes once more, “And you, drooling along the wall as I fuck you against it. Moaning like a whore. Come on now, don’t leave me hanging. How often do you think about that?”
“I… I don’t know…” he rasps, eyes hazy as he tries to keep himself together. He rolls his shoulders, avoiding her eyes.
“God, you’re so easily excited.” She stands up and stares down at him, “I’m sure you’re thinking about something equally perverted now, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yes ma’am.”
“And what would that be?” She flicks imaginary dust off her nails, and looks at him as if she wouldn’t bother giving him the time of day.
“You tying me up and f-fucking me in here.”
Maria takes in a breath and stares at him blankly, processing the moment herself. She looks him up and down again. Clenched shoulders, glasses out of place, painfully aroused features.
“That so?” She confirms, slowly walking around his desk.
“Yes- I-“ He cuts himself off, deciding to not try and form more words.
“Well then, you’re lucky I came prepared.” She encourages, slowly lifting up her pencil skirt around her pantyhosed thighs. Liam swallows as she reveals her strap-on, black and intimidating as always.
His breath stutters, and she lets her skirt fall. She quirks a satisfied smile, “Stand up.”
He stands slowly, breathing in deeply as he looks down at her. She looks him up and down, surveying.
“Take off your belt.” She commands, and as soon as he does so she takes it, and then speaks once more, “And your tie.”
He does so with haste, and both items end up in her hands.
“Good boy.” A whimper. “Hands together.”
She makes quick work with the tie, tying together his wrists in front of him, and tugging to ensure it’s security. They both nod in satisfaction.
“Open your mouth.” She orders, and ties the belt around his head, sufficiently gagging him.
His eyes are wide, clearly aroused at the fear of what’s going to happen to him. He lets her push him onto his desk, and he sits on it, watching her every move with rapt attention.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a packet of lube- clearly prepared.
“Lay back.” She instructs, and watches him lay back over his desk, head just reaching over the edge.
She takes a step closer and spreads his thighs. He watches her slide down his pants to his knees, and she eyes him as she briefly gropes his cock through his boxers. He gasps through the belt, holding his hands tight to his chest.
She slides down his boxers as well, taking a moment to caress his lightly toned thighs. He shivers, staring at her with half lidded eyes.
“Patience. You need to be prepared, you know.” She chides, ripping off the lube packet with her teeth. He whimpers, tugging at his wrists.
She takes a step past his ankles, putting her body past his pants still bunched at his knees. She lifts his right leg up onto her shoulder, and spreads the lube onto her fingers.
He starts preemptively breathing heavily, worked up and very nearly overwhelmed at the situation.
She carefully slips two fingers inside of him with relative ease, working her way up inside of him. He steadies his breathing, staring like a hawk.
She maneuvers her fingers some more and scissors them open. He gasps and looks at her accusingly.
She smiles charmingly, before adding a third. “Don’t be rude, or I’ll be rough. But I’m sure that’s exactly what you want. Isn’t it?”
He groans, and lays his head back, thigh clenching on her shoulder. She sighs with a smug expression. After a few more light thrusts and prods, she pulls out her fingers, satisfied, and immediately coats her strap-on with lube.
“Try not to make too much sound.” She warns, pulling up her skirt and lining up the synthetic cock to his ass, “Nick has good hearing.”
He looks up at her just in time for the tip of the strap-on to push inside him, stuttering his breathing. His eyes flutter as the feeling of fullness blooms in his lower torso.
She pushes inside him a few inches, and rocks back and forth experimentally, drawing out a breathy groan.
“Good?” She queries, looking down at him.
He nods a couple times, clearly desperate for more friction. She pushes in further, gripping his hip with one hand and thigh with the other. The strength of the grip alone is enough to make his insides clench.
“Stop that, or you won’t get fucked.” She informs, narrowing her eyes at him.
He relaxes, and she leans forward, putting her hands on the desk on either side of him. She slowly pushes her way in, watching his already flushed face deepen. His glasses were somehow already out of place, so she carefully adjusts them.
He takes the opportunity to wrap his thighs around her, pulling her in. She scowls and bucks her hips up into him, eliciting a whimper.
“You just want it bad today, huh?” She goads, staring down at him, hair pooling on his chest. He nods pathetically in turn.
She rocks herself back and forth into him, still refusing to go the pace he clearly desires. His eyebrows furrow and his fists clench and unclench. She stares down at him accusingly, eyebrow raised.
“Is this not what you wanted, Liam?” She taunts, smirking with a certain satisfaction. He stares pleadingly, begging her with his eyes.
She sighs. “Alright, fine.”
She leans back up and grips his hips once more. She starts to press into him slowly, rhythmically, pulling back only when her hips meet his ass. He groans, still unsatisfied.
She stares for a moment, thinking. She watches his hips rock against hers, desperately trying to gain more traction.
“How greedy.” She scolds, before thrusting into him. His head flies back onto the desk and he groans as she sets a vigorous pace.
Every single bump against his prostate elicits a cry- a desperate plea for more. His thighs wrap around her needily once more.
She throws his tied hands above his head, so she can enjoy the full view of his body rocking against hers as she fucks into him.
“Fuck, what a slut, huh Liam?” She baits, staring down at his mussed hair and strewn glasses. He moans, too preoccupied with his current predicament.
She quickly undoes his shirt and pushes it aside, looking at his relatively defined chest bouncing up and down. Still keeping the rough pace, she reaches up and tugs at one of his nipples. He throws his head up, and she can see the drool already coating the belt as he whines.
“If you weren’t gagged I bet you’d be begging so pretty for me, wouldn’t you?” She asks, and he nods repeatedly, still crying out
whenever his prostate is hit. The slap of hips against his thighs is vulgar, and his blush deepens at the realization.
“Good boy. Take this cock so well, don’t you? Like it was made just to fuck your insides, huh?” She teases, and his whimpers of pleasure start to get louder as he ruts his hips against hers, attempting to take in even more.
She notices his eyes watering at the brutal pace, but there was no sign whatsoever that he wanted her to ever slow down.
“Someone could walk in, right now, you know,” she theorizes, gripping his hip with one hand, most likely leaving a bruise, “and see you laying here, just taking it like a whore because it’s all you fucking need.”
He desperately moans, attempting to move his tied hands down to his cock. She catches his hands in her own, and keeps it steady above his head as she thrusts into him, feeling his thighs tremble around her.
He gazes pleadingly, begging to cum. His body jolts with each thrust, and his arms shake above his head.
She laughs airily and kisses his thigh, before biting down on it lightly. He yelps, staring hopelessly with watering eyes and drooling gag.
“Just this once.” She smirks, and drops his trembling thigh to stroke his cock. And within a few simple touches, that blinding white heat curls up inside him.
A shuddering orgasm rips through him, arching his back and making him cry out past the gag. His thighs twitch rapidly, and his breathing flutters as his cock paints his own chest white.
He reels for a minute, riding out the bliss, and eventually his breathing ceases stuttering. He brings his head up lazily and unwraps his thighs from her hips. A raspy groan leaves his throat as he attempts to lean up.
She smirks, and pulls his hands, helping him sit up. She reaches behind his head and tugs off the belt, unleashing spit that trails down his chin as he breathes deeply.
She unties his hands as he mentally recovers his faculties and sits up from his slump.
“T-Thank you. For doing that.” He says, adjusting his glasses.
She reaches across the desk and grabs a black tissue box, holding it up.
“Of course, Liam.” She simply replies.
He nods, and wipes himself off. She does the same for her strap.
She notices the deep red marks scattered across his thighs and hips as he pulls up his pants. Those would become bruises in a few hours. She buttons his shirt and redoes his tie for him. They stare at each other for a while, smiling, each satisfied.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He says.
“You will.” She replies, “As usual.”
And she chuckles once more, before making her exit out of his office, still leaving him reeling from the experience.
She gives both the secretary and Nick a smooth nod, not caring if they heard anything that just happened. She steps into the elevator, and smirks as the doors close in front of her.