Darion's Office 33 (Patreon)

Paisley escaped the bathroom, hoping to wash her face. She was not running away from Darion … certainly not. She was the dominant one. She was not a teenager who would get scared just because of a momentary loss of control. 

Not anymore. No, that was in the past. Now, she was strong. She was in control. And no man could change that…

No matter how skilled he was on the bed … or on other surfaces. 

As for why she used the staff bathroom rather than the customer one … she refused to answer that, even in her own mind. 

“Oh, someone looks distracted.” 

That was the sound that distracted her from her musings. She turned, only to see him looking at her. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, hating herself for the slight stammer. She was a strong woman. That was not acceptable. 

“You look distressed, so I came to check if you’re alright,” he answered, but his smirk told a different story. He was clearly aware of the reason for her immediate retreat and came here to tease her. 

And maybe for more. 

She hated her own body for getting heated at the thought. 

“I just needed to wash my face. You can leave,” she said as she leaned against the sink, trying to send him away. “I don’t need to bother you with it.” 

His smirk widened. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s not a bother. Not even the slightest. I have always been very helpful when ladies were in peril. Especially sexy ones like you.” 

She rolled her eyes at his self-aggrandizing statement, though she had to admit, it was working. It wouldn’t have worked without the memories of their previous time … but then, he seemed to be very much aware of that fact considering she kept herself back until that time. 

It was much harder to dismiss when when they were built like Adonis … not to mention what he was packing. 

“I’m not in peril. You can go,” she said.

“Oh, there, we disagree. You’re clearly in need, but you’re too obsessed with your pride to admit that.” 

“And what would you do if I insist on not admitting,” she answered, doing her best to sound determined rather than flirty.

And failed spectacularly. 

“Well, I’ll attempt to make you admit it, using any means necessary. It’s what being a man requires.”

The undertone of his voice was not lost on her, while her body jolted in excitement. Her traitor body. She wanted to say something else, but before she could say anything else, he took a step forward, his lips sealing hers. 

It didn’t help when he somehow managed to shrug his shirt off while delivering that searing kiss. The sight of his defined muscles made it much harder for her to resist the call. But she would … she was determined. 

She was the famous Madam Paisley, not a toy for a man. 

She repeated that as he treated her body like a toy that weighed nothing, easily reversing her. Unbalanced, her hands slammed against the wall, while his hands landed on her waist, his grip hard enough to awaken memories. 

It felt amazing. 

“I-it doesn’t feel good. You can stop,” she said, which would have been more convincing if it wasn’t for her trembling voice. 

“That’s not fair. You should give me a fighting chance to prove myself. After all, that’s what you do, right. Using the boyfriends of your business partners to underline your superiority. It’s only fair I fight for my dear girlfriend.” 

“You can’t just remove it. It’s a romper,” she said. “It doesn’t come off easily.” 

Which was a mistake. “That sounds like a challenge,” he whispered, then pulled, the fragile fabric easily destroyed with his strength. “A challenge that you lost.” 

She would have answered, but she was busy processing his shaft pressing against her ass, her panties far less effective to reduce the impact. 

“Now, let’s make things more fun,” he followed as he lifted her, easily lifting her, once again making her feel powerless. She would have liked to complain … but she was busy moaning. 

She realized that, once again, she was in over her head. Unfortunately, she had no one to blame but herself. Her hobby finally caught up with her, making her get hot and heavy. 

“Do you think I can’t remove your bra as well?” he asked. 

“No!” she gasped immediately, aware that she couldn’t afford to lose another item of clothing. He put her on the floor as he pulled it free, but then grabbed her arms to force her to reveal her whole body while still grinding against her. 

“You look amazing … for a woman of your age,” he said. 

She hated that the backhanded compliment somehow worked even better to heat up her body. She was losing control … completely. 

“S-shut up,” she managed to say.

“You need to work for it,” he said, and a moment later, she found herself being kissed once more. She was not used to being kissed like this, aggressive and hungry, and his fingers didn’t make things any easier. 

“T-that was…” she started, but a distinct sound of clicking grabbed her attention. “Someone is here,” she whispered, very much aware that she didn’t have the time to dress, or anything intact to wear. “We need to hide.” 

“You’re right, let’s hide,” he said. For a moment, she felt relaxed, seeing that he wanted to act rationally. 

That only lasted a second, until he kicked her clothes under a sink before dragging her into one of the cubicles with one last whisper. “Of course, that doesn’t mean we have to stop, does it…”