"You like that, don’t you? The Dubai girl needs a reminder of who’s in charge," I whispered, leaning over her.
"Yes! More! Please!" she cried out, her fingers digging into the mahogany, her rounded ass shaking as she arched her back, practically begging for the penetration to follow the pain.
I didn’t keep her waiting. I hooked my fingers into her hips, feeling the velvet softness of her skin against the raw power of my grip, and prepared to stake my claim.
I leaned over her, my chest pressing against her back as she lay sprawled across the mahogany. I took the head of my cock and began to drag it slowly along the length of her slick pussy lips, painting myself in her heat. The friction was electric. Cami let out a long, shuddering moan, her fingers clawing at the edge of the desk.
"Druski, please... just put it in," she whimpered, her hips hitching upward in a desperate search for friction.
I ignored her plea, sliding just an inch of my head inside her tight, soaking wet entrance before pulling back out, trailing a thread of honey-like moisture behind. I repeated the motion, sliding in halfway this ti, feeling her internal muscles clench around in a rhythmic, involuntary spasm. I pulled back out again, the cool air hitting us both, making her gasp in frustration.
"You’re so greedy, Cami," I whispered, my voice a dark rumble against her neck. "You want everything at once, don’t you?"
"Yes! Give it to !" she cried out.
I looked down at the masterpiece of her body—the angry red handprints on her pale, rounded cheeks and the deep, inviting curve of her lower back. I decided she needed a real lesson in what it ant to be claid by a pornstar.
I shifted my aim, pressing the head of my cock against the small, puckered star of her tight asshole. She went dead silent, her breath hitching as she felt the change in pressure.
"Druski?" she gasped, her eyes going wide as she looked at her reflection in the one-way glass.
"Don’t move," I commanded.
I didn’t wait for her to adjust. I applied a steady, relentless pressure, sliding my cock slowly but firmly into her tightest depth. Cami let out a high-pitched, muffled scream against the desk, her body going rigid as I stretched her open, colonizing the one part of her Bruce had probably never dared to touch. I buried myself to the hilt, the sensation of her velvet-tight walls gripping like a vice.
I stayed there for a mont, letting her take the full size of , while the muffled bass of the club below provided the heartbeat for our transgression.
I didn’t let up. With her ponytail wrapped tightly around my fist and her wrists locked behind her back, I was the only thing keeping her upright. I pounded into her with a rhythmic, bone-deep thud, my cock stretching her tight walls to the absolute limit. Cami was a ss of high-end perfu and sweat, her head lolling back against my shoulder as she took the full force of my cock.
"That’s it... don’t stop... oh god, Druski, break !" she whimpered, her voice cracking.
Her body began to quiver, the telltale sign of an approaching collapse. Every thrust was t with a desperate, clenching heat from her asshole that felt like she was trying to pull entirely inside her. I could feel my own climax building, a heavy, throbbing pressure at the base of my spine that demanded release.
I let go of her wrists and grabbed both sides of her waist, pulling her back even harder to et my final, frantic lunges. The sight was pure power—the blonde Queen of Hollywood’s most exclusive club, marked red from my handprints, being railed in the shadows of her own empire.
I gave her three more powerful, bottoming-out thrusts before the dam finally broke. I let out a low roar as I ca deep inside her, the heat of the release flooding her and making her entire body go rigid in my arms. Cami let out a long, high-pitched cry, her head falling forward as her climax slamd into her with enough force to make her knees finally buckle.
We stayed like that for a long mont, tangled together in the quiet of the office while the world continued to dance on the other side of the glass.
Cami slumped against the desk, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her platinum ponytail was a ss, and the flushed, red marks of my handprints were glowing on her skin like a brand. She looked up at with a dazed, reverent expression, her electric blue eyes finally finding their focus.
"God... Druski," she rasped, a shaky hand reaching up to wipe a stray strand of hair from her face. "Sasha wasn’t exaggerating. You don’t just perform... you conquer. I’ve seen the best the industry and the elite world have to offer, but you? You move like a real future King. That was... legendary."
She stood up on trembling legs, smoothing out the leather of her vest and reaching for her micro-shorts. As she dressed, she kept glancing at , the lust in her eyes now mixed with a deep, genuine respect for the craft I’d just displayed.
"I need your number," she said, her voice regaining so of its managerial steel but still holding a sultry edge. She pulled a gold-cased phone from the desk drawer. "If I ever find myself in New York—or if I just need to remind myself what a real man feels like—I want to be able to find you. And don’t worry... I know how to be discreet."
I took the phone from her hand and punched in my digits, feeling the familiar hum of the club’s bass through the floor. I handed it back, my fingers lingering on hers for a second.
"Just make sure you don’t call when Bruce is around," I said with a smirk. "Unless, of course, you want him to find out exactly why his woman is so distracted."
Cami laughed, a wicked, knowing sound. "Bruce wouldn’t know what to do with a man like you anyway."
I felt a sharp spike of adrenaline—the kind that hits when you realize the night is about to shift from a personal win to a massive industry play. Cami leaned in, her voice dropping to a confidential whisper as she tucked her phone away.
"Before you head back to Sasha," Cami said, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the deal, "there’s soone in the private lounge I think you should et. Have you heard of Evelyn Sun?"
The na hit instantly. In the world of viral adult content, Evelyn Sun was a phenonon. She wasn’t just a model; she was a record-breaker. She had catapulted to the top of OnlyFans by docunting herself sleeping with one hundred n in a single day. She was the queen of high-volu, high-stamina content—a human hurricane of controversy and clicks.
"Evelyn Sun," I repeated, my voice steady but my mind already calculating the numbers. "The girl who broke the internet with the century-mark marathon. Hard to miss a headline like that."
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