The Tyrant's Secret fetish Chapter 13

~Ye jun~

He stared down at for what felt like forever.

Then he pushed adjusting his tie as he walked away. Fine! I was gonna stay, but he was going to regret all of this. Trying to fuck up? He’ll be begging to fuck on the bed.

I stood there against the door for a good minute after he left, breathing hard, my hand still tingling from where I’d grabbed him, and yeah, I was half-hard just from the way his breath had hitched, but mostly I was pissed, pissed at him for shoving away like I was nothing, pissed at myself for pushing it that far in the first place, because what the hell was I thinking, offering myself up like so desperate slut just to win a stupid power ga?

But fuck it, the gauntlet was thrown, and I wasn’t backing down now.

The next morning I showed up to work earlier than usual, suit pressed, tie loose on purpose because I knew it drove him nuts when things weren’t perfect, and I had this plan brewing in my head the whole drive over seduce the shit out of him all day, little touches, make him crack without ever letting him actually have , push him right to the edge until he was the one begging.

I walked into the office kitchen first thing, grabbing coffee, and there he was already, pouring his own mug, back to .

"Morning, sir," I said, voice all casual, stepping up right behind him, close enough my chest brushed his back when I reached for the sugar.

He stiffened. Didn’t turn. "Back off."

"Why? Am I in your space?" I leaned in a little more, my mouth near his ear. "You didn’t mind yesterday when I was grabbing your.. "

He spun fast, coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug, splashing my shirt. "Oops," he said, deadpan, but his eyes were furious. "Watch where you’re standing next ti."

I looked down at the stain, then back up, grinning. "Aw, you marked . How sweet. Want to take it off so you can clean it properly?"

"Ye Jun," he growled low, glancing at the door like soone might walk in. "Don’t start this shit here."

"Start what? I’m just getting coffee." I stepped closer, wiping the spill with my thumb, then licking it off slowly while holding his gaze. "Tastes like you. Bitter."

His jaw clenched so hard I heard it tick. "Get out. Now."

"Fine, fine." I backed up, hands raised, but as I turned, I let my hip bump his on purpose. "See you in the eting later. Can’t wait."

He didn’t say anything, just dumped his coffee in the sink and stord out the other way.

Score one for .

The morning dragged into bullshit emails and reports, but I made sure to swing by his office every chance I got first ti with a file I "needed" him to sign, leaning over his desk so my tie dangled in his face.

"Sign here," I said, pointing, but my fingers brushed his hand when he took the pen.

He snatched it away. "Stop."

"Stop what? Helping?" I straightened, but not before whispering, "Your hands are shaking. Nervous?"

"Out."

Second ti, I brought him lunch takeout from that place he likes, plopped it on his desk without asking.

"Eat," I said. "You look tense. Need to massage your shoulders?"

He shoved the bag back at . "I didn’t ask for this."

"No, but you want it." I leaned in. "Admit it."

"Fuck off, Ye Jun."

I laughed, leaving the food there anyway.

By afternoon, the big team eting rolled around, all of us cramd in the conference room , him, the departnt heads, Dad’s favorite ass-kisses and I sat right next to him, thigh pressing against his under the table because the chairs were "too close."