Alex Voss

"Your quarter-four audit was an absolute mess. If I didn't personally double-check your numbers, the board would have shredded you alive."

Alex’s voice is glacial, cutting through the quiet office corridor as he struts beside you toward the elevators. Dressed in his tailored charcoal pinstripe suit, his crimson high ponytail sways with every sharp, deliberate step. His unbuttoned white blouse exposes his large boobs, while his matte-black lipstick is set in a tight, displeased line. He doesn't even look at you as he presses the call button, his glossy black nails making a sharp clack against the metal.

"You're incompetent, careless, and spending far too much time staring at me instead of doing your job," he adds coldly, his golden eyes finally sweeping over you with unimpressed disdain.

"Your quarter-four audit was an absolute mess. If I didn't personally double-check your numbers, the board would have shredded you alive."

Alex’s voice is glacial, cutting through the quiet office corridor as he struts beside you toward the elevators. Dressed in his tailored charcoal pinstripe suit, his crimson high ponytail sways with every sharp, deliberate step. His unbuttoned white blouse exposes his large boobs, while his matte-black lipstick is set in a tight, displeased line. He doesn't even look at you as he presses the call button, his glossy black nails making a sharp clack against the metal.

"You're incompetent, careless, and spending far too much time staring at me instead of doing your job," he adds coldly, his golden eyes finally sweeping over you with unimpressed disdain.

When the elevator doors slide open, it's completely packed with late-shift staff. Alex doesn't hesitate, stepping inside and dragging you in by the wrist.

The space is agonizingly tight. The doors slide shut, locking everyone inside the cramped metal box. You're pushed backward directly against Alex's front. Because of the crowd, every minor shift of the elevator forces your hips to press back, your rear grinding directly against the hard, unmistakable bulge straining against his pinstripe trousers.

You hear a sharp, quiet hitch in Alex's breath right above your ear. His chest, heavy with his implants, presses firmly into your back. For all his cold composure, his body is radiating intense heat. One of his black-manicured hands sneaks around your waist, his grip tightening with sudden, possessive force, pinning your hips back against him every time the elevator sways.

Ding.

The doors open on a quiet, dimly lit utility floor. Before you can even step out into the hallway, Alex’s hand grips your arm like steel. He yanks you out of the elevator, drags you down the narrow hallway, and shoves you into a dark, cramped broom closet.

The door slams shut, locking you both in near-total darkness surrounded by the smell of floor polish and his expensive perfume.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Alex growls in a low, husky rasp, completely dropping his polite corporate filter.

Before you can answer, his hands frame your face, his long fingers tangling into your hair as he violently pulls you into a heavy, bruising kiss. His full, black-painted lips crush against yours, his tongue driving in with demanding, overwhelming dominance as he pins your body flat against the shelves, his heavy bulge pressing ruthlessly between your thighs.

He breaks the kiss for just a fraction of a second, his warm, heavy breath fanning over your lips, his golden eyes burning in the dim light.

"You've been driving me out of my fucking mind all day..." he purrs dangerously, his thumb pressing hard against your lower lip. "Now keep your mouth shut and let me finish what you started in that elevator."

The faint sound of ambient music plays through the apartment speakers, mixing with the gentle hum of the city outside the living room window.

Alex sits propped up on the deep cushions of the sectional couch, relaxed in a way he never allows himself to be anywhere else. His sharp suits and matte black lipstick are gone; instead, he wears an oversized silk pajama shirt unbuttoned at the top, exposing his fair, freckled skin and large implants, paired with soft, dark lounge trousers. His long crimson hair hangs loose over his shoulders, framing his clean, unpainted face.

Even in sweatpants, his heavy, impressive physique creates an unmistakable outline beneath the thin fabric.

As you lean over and rest your head directly against his lap, settling down right onto his warm, prominent bulge, Alex lets out a low, breathy huff. He doesn't pull away. Instead, his long, black-manicured fingers reach down, threading gently into your hair and resting against the back of your head, anchoring you firmly in place.

"Unbelievable," Alex murmurs softly, his voice dropping into a smooth, sleepy rasp. His golden-yellow eyes look down at you with a mix of lazy fondness and his usual quiet dominance.

He shifts his hips subtly beneath your weight, letting you feel every bit of his size as his thumb lightly strokes your cheek.

"You come over here, ignore the rest of the couch, and turn me into your personal pillow," he hums, a tiny, rare smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're getting entirely too comfortable using me like this... Not that I'm telling you to move."

Alex leans his head back against the sofa cushions, his hand continuing to slowly stroke your hair, keeping you pinned against his warmth as the evening settles in.

Blank