Chapter 51: Lucas: Temptation
"ARE YOU okay with the social dia marketing team posting the model pictures and videos of you we took last week online?" Bob asks, taking a bite of his sandwich. He’s the photographer who was in charge of my photoshoot a few days ago.
Tall mustache, an Italian accent, and a big appetite for pastry. He’s the typical cultural Italian man, no stereotyping. The dude values his culture so passionately, his office is a whole dedication to it.
"Yes, so long it serves the purpose of advancing the magazine sales, I have no objection against it," I reply, munching into the last bit of my pineapple pizza, another one of Bob’s pet peeves. He hasn’t touched the pastry dish ever since it was introduced in our canteen.
"Noted. I’ll inform them right away."
Licking my fingers at the rcy of a scowling Bob, I leave the table, waving goodbyes to him and making my way to the elevator lobby. The magazine articles are already being delivered all around the country to our agents, and I’m pretty sure the sa is happening around the world right now.
As headquarters, we review most of the pieces before they’re circulated, which worsens the burden on
more than the entire company knows—even my dad. However, I managed to complete the tasks with the help of my team sohow because this magazine is precious to .
IfonlyIcouldprovejusthowpreciousbybecomingnumberone—
My phone’s ringtone disturbs my monologue. I frantically take it out of my pocket, doing my best to keep my cool in the full but silent elevator.
"Hello," I answer Iris’ call, biting my tongue when the urge to call her babe rubs off on it.
"Luke," she whines in a voice I only rember her putting when we’re having sex. Thank god I left my phone on silent mode when I answered.
The elevator doors open to let in other passengers but I exit, not in the least caring about the stairs I’ll have to climb to reach the next floor, my floor. "What are you doing, Iris?"
"Getting ready for you, master."
Ohshit. I’m getting hard. "Have you been reading your dark romance novels again?"
"Yes, sir."
"Iris stop teasing . I have an entire two hours before six o’clock and the entire ti is filled with important etings."
"Sorry sir—ah," she whimpers on the phone, voice shaky. "I’m about to co." She doesn’t finish speaking before I hear her whimper in pleasure, her phone making weird sounds probably because it’s vibrating from the convulsions she’s having. I’ve seen her climax before to know how much she quivers during the mont.
So she is masturbating. I thought she was faking it just to tease .
Ruffling my hair and stopping on the stairs case, I’m torn between ditching work and rushing over to fuck her brains out or toughening it up. But when the reminder I set for the eting I’m supposed to be having in fifteen minutes pops up, I have no choice but to attend the eting with a throbbing dick that’s showing a small bulge on my pants.
"I’ll cut the call now, Iris. Be a good girl and wait for
until I’m ho okay?"
"Yes, daddy," she ows into the phone. I have to turn around and check my surroundings to make sure I’m the only one who heard that before cutting the call and rushing upstairs to get my laptop.
The eting proves to be just as difficult. Not because everyone is doing a bad job with their prepositions and proposals about the upcoming event that is now two weeks away from happening, but because Iris won’t stop tornting .
I was halfway in my first eting when she sent a picture. Out of curiosity, I unlocked it and god damnit did I let out a low breath that ca out as a growl. The entire team filling the boardroom looked at , and it didn’t help that I was sitting at the tip of the leaf crest again.
I felt all shades of humiliation, but at least I had a valid reason to explain why I just growled—a picture of Iris dressed in the most revealing red lingerie ever. Judging by the flowery background, she looked like she was outside her room, but that was nothing compared to the pose she was striking, it was as if she was about to crawl out of the phone and offer to sit on my face.
The pictures didn’t end there. They kept on coming through the first eting until I was in my second eting. Then she decided to change her tactic.
Get this...
She started wearing my t-shirts with nothing on but the sa flirty lingerie to cover her precious curvy legs.
All I can say is that I’ve never been as bored by a eting as I did throughout all three etings. They were dragging for no reason, and everyone was talking like they were high on drugs. Or is it
who was high on Iris?
My shirts never looked so good before, not even on the mannequin I chose them from. Iris wore them better than everyone,
included. She sent
only two pictures before deciding she’d disturbed
enough.
If her ultimate goal was to distract , then she’d already succeeded the mont she called
while masturbating. I’m still hard from the mory of her voice, and it’s not getting better because I keep looking at the photos she sent
every chance I get.
I feel like an elentary school kid when they carry a lunch box full of precious goodies to school. I keep on peeking and opening the pictures, thirsting for
with each swipe I make on the photos.
So when the last eting is adjourned, I’m the first one out of the room, literally sprinting out of the edifice at such high speed that you’d think I was once a professional athlete.
The car is already waiting for
at the car park, ready to take off once I give the word, the engine imdiately roaring to life when Paul notices the speed I have as I reach near the car with each stride that I take.
The surprise on his face when I open the driver’s door and ask him to step out is unmatched, but he holds it in nonetheless.
"I already sent Tim a text, he’s coming to pick you up and the two of you are spending a night at the hotel. In the anti, you can go sit in the cafe, they already have your order ready, and a Kindle on the desk, just in case."
His eyes light up when I tell him about the Kindle. It’s a thing in the book readers’ world to read whilst sipping caffeine in a cozy little cafe. I saw it on TikTok and was waiting to use it as a surprise on Iris later in the days to co. But it seems Paul got the first taste of it after all.
Feeling less guilty now, I fasten my seatbelt, clasping the car wheel, and letting out one loud unsettling sigh. I’m about to drive ho faster than I’ve ever before. There’s a present waiting to be unwrapped by
back ho, and I have to arrive before it goes dry.
Fuck, why does it feel like every best holiday is happening today? Valentines, Christmas, and my birthday—no—it feels even better than all days combined. Maybe because this is sothing I’ve never experienced before?
WhateverLucas, justdrive.
★★★★★
The house is silent when I arrive. It’s a given since I sent away the only two people who I share it with. Placing my bag and everything else on the floor next to the staircase, I rush upstairs.
So far, there’s nothing to prove Iris has planned a surprise for . Everything is normal. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but I sure as hell was expecting sothing dramatic and sexy like on those erotic TV shows the mont I stepped onto our floor.
The door to my room is slightly open I notice. Slowly pushing it open, I’m t with the sweet-inducing scent of roses. It’s like she sprayed her entire cologne in here just so I can acknowledge she was in my room.
I step inside, and the sight before
is, well, a ssy kind of sexy. All the t-shirts I’ve worn last week that I’ve been stacking in my washing machine are sprawled on my bed, color-coded to match with Iris’ lingerie that is placed on top of each shirt.
My blood is fuming at this point. All the veins are protruding all over my body, and I can feel the blood rush down to my dick. Taking one of the panties, I place them on my nose and inhale. They sll exactly like her pussy, a sweet strawberry scent that only her feminine wash would leave lingering on her body and sticking to her panties like this.
"Mhmm," I hum, involuntarily gripping my pants. I can’t think straight.
I throw the lingerie on the bed, turn on my heel, and make my way to the room next door. This ti,m I don’t waste my ti opening the door slowly.
Like mine, the room slls like roses, and there’s nothing to suggest any presence of Iris in the room.
Unless...
Taking ten large strides towards the patio, I almost choke on my drool at the sight waiting for
by the swinging chair. It’s every guy’s fantasy. And by every guy, I an the perverts who’ve seen ani babes wearing those neck choker things in sexy cat outfits with butt plugs that have tails.
The mont she sees , Iris does the crawling pose, slowly getting off the swing and crawling until she’s bowing right in front of , owing her way onto my dick and licking the zipper.
"Can I take it off, master?"
Fuck. Maybe I am a pervert but she looks so hot right now, I can’t even tell what’s right or wrong anymore.
"Do you want
to be in character too?" I ask, breaking invisible sweat and heating up all over. Iris nods slowly and nuzzles her face on my dick. It twitches, tightening inside my briefs and hardening with each stroke she does on the cloth.
Letting a low breathy sigh, I close my eyes, trying to picture that one embarrassing scene from her mafia novels I forced myself to read in my library—the one where the mafia lord dominated his girlfriend and fucked her until daybreak.
Yeah, let’schannelallourmafiabossenergyandfuckhergood.
Opening my eyes, I lean forward and grab her ponytail. "Unzip the trousers without touching my legs, or else you’ll be punished," I say, doing my best impression of a deep voice like the novel said the mafia lord had and cringing big ti at myself.
Whatthefuckisthiswomandoingto?No, whatthefuckam I doing?
★★★★★
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