Trapped By My Ruthless Boss

KISAREL.

I felt like I was being split in half the moment Mr. Stark pushed his length into me. Every instinct in my body fired at once, and I tried to pull my hands free without thinking, which was exactly why he'd secured them above my head in the first place. He'd known before I did.

I wasn't a virgin. But I could count on one hand the number of times Jace and I had actually had sex, and none of those times had come anywhere close to preparing me for this. For him.

He pushed the other half of his length in and captured my mouth at the same time, swallowing the scream that tore out of my throat before it could leave the room.

"Shhh." He pulled back just enough to speak against my lips. "You're good. I'm in now."

He wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with his thumb.

He waited for me to adjust to his size. Then he started to move and oh God, the feeling of it - so slow, so deep, and so intentional - pain and pleasure so knotted together I couldn't separate them, couldn't think past the next thrust, couldn't do anything except moan and try to breathe.

He kissed me between movements, and it was the kind of kiss that had no business existing in a one-night arrangement. He kissed me like it was part of a job description, and he intended to do it properly.

If anyone had ever told me that my boss was the romantic type, I would have laughed in their faces.

I thought he was the kind of man who would just straight up fuck you without ceremony. But here he was, dismantling all those thoughts stroke by stroke. He kissed me between thrusts and made sure I was comfortable.

His kiss felt a little too intimate. I mean... Even Jace hadn't kissed me that way ever, and here was my boss kissing me like he meant to memorize the inside of my mouth and had no intention of rushing it.

I didn't have long to sit with that thought when he pulled out suddenly, and in one clean motion flipped me over before my brain had even registered the shift. Then I was on all fours, and he was pushing his blunt tip into me from behind, and the angle made everything feel new and impossible all over again.

"Oh, God. Mr. Stark..." I whimpered when I felt his impossible size pushing through my tightness.

"Call me Oceans." His voice was tight and strained, like he was holding himself on a very short leash. "Don't make me remind you again."

I tried to drop to my stomach, thinking it might ease the pressure, but his hands caught my waist and held me exactly where I was, pushing forward until he was buried to the hilt and I had run out of room to accommodate him.

I stayed completely still. I was genuinely afraid to move. I feared I'd tear up if I did.

"Good girl. You take my cock so well," He said as he began to fuck me properly, rendering deep, hard strokes into my stretched walls, with his balls slapping against my inner thighs and catching my clit at certain angles.

His thumb found my moist clit and began working it in ruthless circles while he pounded into me from behind.

I moaned shamelessly. The filthy sounds of his length pounding in and out of me filled the room.

"Oceans - please-" I didn't even know what I was asking for. More, or less, or mercy, or all three at once. My body had stopped being able to tell the difference between pain and pleasure about three minutes ago.

The sensation that came from being fucked by the Almighty Ocean Stark was on a different level. And the way he fucked me... I'd only seen it a few times when I summoned the courage to watch porn.

Jace never came close. At least, not in this universe.

He hit a particular spot that got me convulsing so hard that I fell flat on my stomach. He didn't stop. He parted my legs, positioned himself behind me, and kept hitting that same spot with a precision that felt almost cruel, his thumb working my clit in hard, wicked circles until I was convulsing against the sheets and couldn't remember my own name.

"Fuck, Kiss-" He grunted, his pace picking up, his hips driving into me harder. "You're mine now. You're fucking mine."

I was too far gone to process words. My brain had checked out somewhere around the third position and left my body to fend for itself.

"Say it." His lips dropped to my ear, his voice so rough against my skin that it sent goosebumps all over me, "Say you're mine."

I gasped, but nothing came out.

"Say it, damn it." He drove into me harder, and I yelped and moaned at the same time, the sound coming out broken and embarrassing and completely beyond my control.

"I... I'm yours..." My voice cracked under the intensity of the next thrust. "I'm yours, I'm yours..."

"No one else touches what's mine." He pulled out, and before I could register the emptiness, he had me off the bed and on the vanity table as he stood in front of me with my thighs spread around his hips. "I don't share. Remember that."

I could barely see him properly. My hair was plastered all over my face, damp and wild, my eyes blurred from pleasure and tears I hadn't even noticed falling. Every part of me was shaking.

God, he was so manly.

He looked at me for one moment with sweat running down the lines of his body and the veins in his forearms standing out like cables pulled taut, and something moved across his face that I was too wrecked to read properly.

"God, you're fucking perfect."

He wrapped his strong hand around my throat and pushed back into me. And this angle was the most exposed I had ever felt in my life... Looking into his eyes while he took me, with nowhere to hide from him.

I moaned and whimpered, and a small smile curled his lips. His smile held a dark intent, but I didn't really care because I was ready to be ruined by this man tonight.

With all he said before he agreed to do this for me, then it only meant this would never happen ever again. And I prayed to any God listening right now that things don't stay awkward between us after this.

Whatever this was, it would stay in this hotel room, and we would fold it up in the morning and go back to being boss and assistant and never speak of it again. That was the deal. That was the only way any of this made sense.

True to Mr. Stark's words, he doesn't stop until he is done.

No matter how hard I cried and begged when pleasure began to morph into pain and exhaustion, he kept going.

He repositioned me every time I started to go limp.

"Please... I can't..." My legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand when he pressed my back against the bathroom wall and fucked me until the tiles were cold against my shoulders and the sounds coming out of me had stopped being words entirely.

"I warned you, didn't I? I don't fuck to please, Kiss." He grunted and kissed my tears when he sat at the edge of the bed and made me straddle him.

There was not an inch of this suite we didn't stain with our sin. He fucked me in the bathroom, the sitting room, the couch, and back on the bed again.

By the time he finished with an explosive burst of his hot seeds into me, I collapsed into his chest, and he carried me gently to the bed.