Flirting With The Boss

POV: Victoria

"I'm hot…

I'm burning hot…

What is happening to me, why do I feel this way?" I asked myself as I felt a hand on my body, caressing me. I have no idea how I got to this room, I'm drunk, so f*ck*ng drunk. As if that is not enough, I'm also horny, I can feel my p*ssy burning so hot. It feels like I would slump and die if I don't get f*ck*d this minute.

That is weird…

I'm a virgin, I should not be longing for s*x this way, should I?

I'm breathing hard, trying hard to remember how I go to this room and why am I feeling this way. Could it be the drinks I took at the party, was I drugged or is it just  my hormones that is playing this mean joke on me?

I kept thinking hard, going over different scenarios in my head. What if I was drugged and kidnapped, what is going to happen to my mom and my sister, how will they survive without me?

God, I couldn't even think straight because all my sane thoughts were going in one direction, s*x. How did I get to this place, why did I come here in the first place?

I had these crazy ideas in my head as I thought of a possible solution to my problem. But before I could think of anything, the door to the room was opened from the outside and a muscular guy walked in and stood by the door, looking away from me. He looked timid, he wouldn't even look at me face, let alone looking into my eyes. With his head bent, he walked past me and went round the room as if he was doing some inspection or something.

When he was done, he came backhand stood in front of me, fixing his eyes on me, glaring at me. I couldn't see him clearly, but it seems like he is holding a hidden camera in his hand and he's glaring daggers at me for no reason at all. I could not see him, my eyes are blurred with the feeling of lust. Although I couldn't see him well, I could tell they the moment he went around the room and came back to me, his shyness disappeared completely. He wasn't looking at the floor anymore, he's looking right back at me.

"W… W… Who are you, and why are you here?" I asked him, taking a step back. He looks drunk too, I can see that.  He could barely control his urges and I don't want him to. This is not how I imagined my first time to be, but what choice do I have when my whole body is on fire. He's trying to hold back, but all I want to say to him is,

"Touch me, please…

F*ck me!" I wanted to plead like a wh*r*. But, I didn't even need to, he's as horny as I am. Before the words left my lip, he pulled me into his arms, kissing me roughly.

"Who sent you?" he murmured as he kissed me passionately.

"I guess you are the bait, huh?

They sent you here to find out if I'm gay or impotent, didn't they?

Of all the girls in town, he choose a nameless wh*r* to seduce me. I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson," he told me angrily, not even giving me a chance to answer any his question. I wanted to tell him that he's terribly wrong, I want to tell him that I'm not a wh*r* and I'm not here to seduce him. But how do you tell a guy you are not here to entice him when all my actions is literally begging him to screw me.

His hands on my body was like cold water on a sunny day it calmed my spirit and made me feel so good. I couldn't tell him to stop, I didn't want to. I loved it, I want more. So I just kept mute and responded to his kisses and caresses. He was a bit aggressive, he showed no affection for me or concern for my feeling. He ripped off my clothes like a hungry beast and pushed into me with no care in the world. It was when he felt his d*ck tearing through my membrane and taking away my innocence that I heard him scream,

"Holy f*ck!"

He shoves into me, no warning or gentleness, pushing past resistance. I scream, a choked cry mixing pain and pleasure. I feel him breaking me open, shattering the last walls I kept. It's shocking, raw. But I don't pull away , I can't. His grip tightens as he moves inside me, rough and heavy.

"Holy f*ck!" he yells, voice raw, shaking the walls. My world narrows to the sound of our ragged breaths, skin hot to skin, the desperate pounding of my heart. He moves fast, erratic — like a man possessed. He doesn't care how scared I am or if I can keep up.

I'm burning.

Screaming.

Falling apart.

And somewhere deep down, a part of me is screaming for more. Time twists. Minutes mash into one endless blur of him inside me, rough hands pulling, his wild eyes locked on mine. I want to cry. I want to beg for it to never end. For it to end fast. I don't know what I'm feeling or what I want anymore. All I know is heat. All I know is pain and ache and wanting. When he shudders, groans, and falls heavy on top of me, my body trembles in the aftershock. He pulls back, breath heaving, voice softer suddenly.

"You're different," he admits. I don't reply. I'm too spent. He slowly pulls the sheets over us, his hands gentle now, skimming softly across my skin. I close my eyes, still burning, still aching, still confused. Why am I here?

Why did he bring me?

Does he even know who I am?

Or am I just another girl he's used and left?

I want to believe there's more. But I don't have the strength to ask. Not yet. The silence settles like a heavy blanket. Outside, night deepens, ocean waves crashing softly. I reach up, fingers trembling, brush his cheek. He leans into my touch, eyes closing. Maybe I'm not alone after all.

POV: Victoria

"This money should be enough for your precious virginity. Take it and get out of my office, I don't ever want to set my eyes on you again. Stay away from me and keep that unfortunate incident between us. You can never mention what happened that night to anyone no soul must hear about it, else you'll face my wrath!" he yelled and threatened furiously, throwing some bundles of cash at my face.

"You don't have to be so mean about it, Raphael!

You can hate me if you want to, but I won't let you treat me like trash. I would never have come to you if it wasn't for my moms illness. I can't stand the sight of your arrogance, I can't stand you!" I told him angrily, glaring daggers at him. He stole my virginity and calls it an unfortunate incident. Can you believe that?

"You f*ck*ng gold digger!

I know your type. You pretend to be calm and modest, but you are nothing but a trick star, a f*ck*ng wh*r*!

If you think you can waltz in here and dem