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harmonyrae · 2 days ago

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Devil in the Mirror: Part 2

Synopsis: Part two of my AU fic about Abysswalker inspired assassin Rafayel. His one night stand is his next target. He’s already signed the contract, but she’s captured his attention - and maybe his affection. He surprises himself when he invites her to be his date to his art exhibit. He is great at thinking on his feet, but his lack of self-control could be his undoing. (Written in Rafayel's POV)

Warnings: Mentions of violence & death & very explicit sexual descriptions. 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.9k

Rolling over, your hand falls to the mattress, when you don’t feel her your eyes snap open. Sitting up straight in bed you glance around the room. The wave of anxiety settles when you hear the sound of the shower. You spot her clothes piled on the desk. You swing your legs off the bed and stretch, your breath catches as you notice just how sore you are. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t just because of the absolutely insane sex - oh how you wish it was.

The man you “dealt with” yesterday was huge. Double your size and a total beefcake. Probably spent more time in the gym in one day than you spent in a whole year. But in the end, you’re faster and years of practice with your blade meant the final slash across his throat was precise. But he got some good hits in and you’re sure the bruising was worse. Would it be more noticeable in the daylight?

You slowly make your way across the room to the desk. Your fingers gently sweep across the fabric of her dress. Memories of the club flash through your mind. Her hips swaying against you, her hands threading through your hair, her pulse racing as you kissed her neck. Your peripherals catch your reflection in the mirror above the desk.

Fuck.

Those were not the bruises you were expecting… Sure, the giant bruise across your rib cage was dark and tender, but you could explain it away easily. Took a tumble off your ladder while finishing your latest painting. But how the fuck are you supposed to explain the small bruises across your neck and chest? The press would have a field day…

Ding

Your phone chirps from its place next to the bed. You trudge back, grab the phone and fall back onto the plush blanket. You hold the phone above your face and swipe to unlock. A new message from Thomas.

Thomas: Started a new file for your new project. Should I bring it to your place or hand it off tonight?

“Oh fuck…!”

Your nose burns as you rub it. The panic you had suppressed from last night had resurfaced catching you off guard, causing you to drop your phone, right onto your face. For fucks sake… Your next target was literally in the next room. Your target, who was beautiful, bold, enticing… Who rocked your world less than 12 hours ago and slept beside you. Who you were desperately trying to stop imaging standing, hot and dripping, in that shower. God, you want to join her. Feel her hands on you again. Your hands holding her hips, pulling her to you, your lips on hers. NO. STOP. She’s your fucking target. You should go in there and finish the job.

No, no, no… Who knows who she came to the club with last night. You remember another girl, with short brown hair, dancing with her. Did they notice you and her on the dance floor? Did they notice her leaving with you? Did she text her friends or family this morning while you were still asleep? Too many risks. It wouldn’t be hard to link her death back to you. No, it wasn’t a good idea to do this now. And do you want to? What the fuck? That should NOT be a factor. But it is and the more you deny it the more your stomach twists into a knot.

You hear the water shut off. Shit. What do you do? What is the plan? Like you ever really make plans for these things. But this is different. Why is it different? It just is. So what do you…

While you’re thinking, well more like panicking, she exits the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. She notices you sitting up on the bed and smiles. God, she’s radiant. Stop complimenting her. Well, complimenting her in your head. Just stop it.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Really? You’re pathetic… Why did you say that? Now she’s blushing and walking over. In a towel, she’s in a towel. Your thin sweatpants are proving to be very revealing, your cock throbbing at the thought of her dropping that towel.

She cups your face with her hands, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Can she feel it? Can she see it? Oh, she 100% can. Her eyes fall, trailing their way down your torso and - oh shit - she lets out a breathy giggle as she notices how hard you’ve gotten. Her smile widens and she leans down to kiss you fully. Her lips are just as soft as last night. She smells like heaven, you can tell she used the hotel soap but her fragrance is so much stronger. Delicate and breezy. Fucking hypnotic.

Your hands find themselves on her hips, pulling her closer. She smiles against your lips and pulls back slightly. You can feel yourself pouting - real mature, she’ll love that. She giggles and swipes her finger across your bottom lip that’s pushed out. Wait, does she?

“Usually, I would have left by now. To avoid that uncomfortable morning-after small talk. But… I didn’t really want to.” She says in a hesitant voice.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.” Are you now? Really?!

“Me too.”

You pull her back to you trying to continue the kiss, even though you know it’s a bad idea. It’s like you can’t stop yourself. You start trailing kisses down her chest, but she pulls back, stopping you in your tracks.

“But I do have to go. I have a meeting in an hour.”

“A meeting?” At the Hunters Association, most likely.

“At the Hunters Association. Oh, I don’t think I mentioned my job before. I’m a hunter.”

“Ohhhhh wow!” Thank god, she bought that.

“Yeah, I have to do a debrief before my leave.”

“Your leave?”

“I… It’s mandatory after I got injured a few days ago. A huge Wanderer showed up at the park and I was the only hunter around and there were kids. People were getting hurt, so I… ugh… I jumped in and ended up in the hospital again.”

“Again?!”

“Well, I was on desk duty and not supposed to involve myself in any fights… My new injuries made my previous ones worse. I had to have a minor surgery. So now, my boss is making me take a mandatory leave and turn in my weapons so…”

“Wait, you’re telling me you just had surgery…”

She hesitates and avoids meeting your eye.

“Well, it was like… two days ago…”

“Are you serious?! And last night… You were at a club? Drinking? Dancing? And then we… Fuck! I could have hurt you?!”

The panic in your voice is too intense, why are you panicking? She is a grown woman capable of making her own choices. However questionable those choices might be...

“I’m fine. Seriously, when I say it was minor, the doctors literally told my boss I could go back to work pretty much right away. But she’s still pushing for the leave. It’s more a punishment than a recovery. You didn’t hurt me. Well, you did, but in a good way.” Her smile turns dangerous and there you go blushing again.

“You are a handful aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

She tugs at her towel, letting it drop down her waist and over your hands which are still on her hips. Her breasts sit perfectly in front of your face. You spot the various bruises you left, mostly surrounding her nipples. As you move your hands to let the towel drop to the floor, you see her lower stomach and inner thighs are also covered with your love bites. Her hands trace over the bruises she left on your collarbone. She shifts her legs and straddles your lap, her bare pussy sitting directly on your barely covered, painfully hard, cock. She gasps softly when she feels the rough stitches over the wound on your chest.

“When did this happen? Wait… Did you stitch this yourself?”

You take her hand away from the wound and hold it tenderly, placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“It happened the other day. It wasn’t serious so I handled it myself.”

“And you were upset with me… Wait, are you a doctor?”

“No, not a doctor. Stitches look pretty good for a non-doctor? Pretty impressive, yeah?”

You were avoiding her question of how for as long as you possibly could. Her eyes narrow and she pushes you back onto the mattress before moving to straddle your torso. Feeling her grind against your stomach, you could feel how wet she was, and it wasn’t from the shower. Fuuuuck.

“You didn’t answer my question. How did it happen?” Her hands drift down your arms and take hold of your hands.

“So, I’m an artist. I make my own paint. Sometimes finding the ingredients I need can get… risky.”

She squints her eyes, considering your story. Her hands close in around your wrists as she pulls them to her waist.

“Risky, huh? So what happened?”

“I uhh… I was diving to find some coral. I needed a particular shade of red for a - ahh hah…”

She had slowly lifted your hands to her breasts and your self-control was at an all time low. You already sounded extremely suspicious. What if she felt the cut on your head? Would she buy the diving story a second time? She moves your hands up and down, giving her the friction she desired. She dropped her hands away when you started kneading her breasts on your own, letting her head fall back. Your thumbs moving up to roll over her peaked nipples.

“I thought you said you had a meeting…” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice. What was she doing to you?

“You’re right, I should go then…”

She smirks down at you as she shifts slightly, moving to get up. You sit up and reach your arms around her waist, pulling her down on top of you. Her chest flush against yours, you could feel her heartbeat. You crash your mouth into hers. She kisses you back with equal intensity. One of her hands makes its way down your torso, the other still, braced against your chest. Her hand begins rubbing over your cock through your sweatpants. This is such a bad idea. You should… Your thoughts come to a screeching halt as a moan escapes your throat.

“Too much?”

She had reached her hand down into your pants and was cupping your balls. The squeeze she had given them had taken you by surprise - you really are getting lost in your thoughts... She felt so good, her body melting into yours.

“No… no, I just didn’t expect it. It felt good - kinda…”

“Kinda?”

“You’re not afraid to be a little rough, are you?” She smirks before taking your bottom lip between her teeth, giving it a tug before letting go. Well that answered your question.

Ding

Your phone chimed. It’s got to be Thomas. Shit, what time is it? The exhibit…

“Sorry cutie, that would be my manager.”

She releases your balls and you whine. You. Whine. What are you, twelve? But she was literally bringing you to the brink so fast you didn’t want her to stop so suddenly. She smiles and leans down to place a kiss to your forehead before standing up and grabbing her towel to wrap around her once more.

You sit up and pick up your phone. Sure enough, a message from Thomas.

Thomas: Exhibit is in 2 hours. Please tell me you are getting ready…

Thomas really needs a vacation. That would also mean he wouldn't schedule interviews or exhibits for a while. Okay, mental note, plan a mandatory vacation for Thomas as soon as this mess of a job is done.

Me: Stop worrying, I’ll be there.

You toss your phone to the bed and look up to see she was fully dressed again. There goes your chance at a round two. Thanks, Thomas. You stand and approach her, she’s carefully touching up her lipstick and trying to smooth out her messy curls in the mirror next to the desk. You wrap your arms around her waist and look at her in the mirror. She smiles as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You have to get to work?”

“An art exhibit. I have a new collection on display today. Starts in a few hours” Before you had even a minute to process your next words they were spilling out of your mouth. “Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Are you asking me out?”

You were losing your nerve. Good, you shouldn’t be asking her to join you anyways.

“I am.”

Rafayel, you are truly the worst.

“As in, you want me to check out your art or…”

Yes, just a guest. Just check it out. Not a date.

“As my date.”

For fucks sake…

“I don’t really want this to be a one night stand.” You continue. “You’re gorgeous, funny, bold and sexy as fuck…”

“I’d love to be your date.” She answers quickly.

You see your goofy ass smile in the mirror, you try to hide behind her head. She laughs before turning around. She places a kiss on your cheek. She grabs her purse off the desk and pulls out her phone.

“I’ll call you after my meeting?” She hands her phone to you and you put in your number.

“And I’ll pick you up. Do you need a ride there?”

“No, I’ve already texted Tara to pick me up. I guess I will see you later?”

“Yes you will.”

— —

You spend the next 2 hours gathering your things and getting back to your house to shower and get ready for the exhibit. Fuck, this is going to be a nightmare. You’re going out, on a date, with your target. How the hell are you going to get yourself out of this one? Do you want to?

As you mull over your current situation, you stand in your closet and look through your designer suits. Maybe the blue one with a crisp white dress shirt? Low key, casual, nothing fancy. Could give the impression this date is more casual and certainly won’t lead to anything serious. Or maybe the red suit with a black dress shirt? Or the black suit with a lavender dress shirt? You have never thought about what to wear to an exhibit before, usually grabbing the first suit you see and slapping on a smile for a few hours to make Thomas happy.

Buttoning the lavender dress shirt proves to be challenging with your hand shaking so much. No shot you’re nervous. Well, the contract you signed agreeing to kill this woman did say if you failed to accomplish this mission the consequences would be… well actually, they didn’t specify. They just said “you don’t want to know” trying to be menacing assholes. Honestly, you kind of want to know at this point. She did give you the best head of your life and she’s funny and cute and…

Ding

Your phone chirps bringing you back to your very complicated reality. Placing your golden sea turtle cuff links on the dresser you pick up the phone to see a message from her. She’s ready. Are you?

— —

Settling into your dark blue McLaren, you do a quick quality check to make sure the interior is pristine. You haven’t driven this car in a while, but it certainly makes a statement. So why not? The cream interior is spotless and it smells like vanilla. Thomas definitely took it to get detailed recently. That little shit used it without asking again. Maybe you can use that against him to get out of this event early.

Pulling up to the address she gave, you spot her on her phone pacing along the sidewalk. Blood rushes straight to your cock. Oh fuck… The black high-waisted skirt falls just above her knees, a loose black blazer hangs off her shoulders and the pop of red from a lace bustier tucked into her skirt props her tits up so perfectly. And of course she’s wearing the same heels from last night. You can’t stop yourself from remembering how she kicked them off before tugging her dress down to fall to the floor. Oh, she sees you and is waving. Pull it together, for the love of god.

You hop out to open the passenger door and hold her hand as she ducks her head to get in. You damn near run back to the driver side so you can sit beside her. As you close the door, she giggles and you turn to face her.

“You look really good in a suit. Damn.” There’s a hint of blush creeping up to her cheeks.

“Are you saying I look bad in everything else?”

“No! You look good in everything I didn’t… you’re such a tease how dare you!” She swats at your arm laughing along with you. “But honestly, I think you look best in nothing at all.”

Oh. Great. Just what the press want to see you arrive with - an erection. You feel her hand lightly graze your thigh. You look over at her with a smirk.

“Oh and I’m the tease?”

She giggles and removes her hand, but you grab it and place it back on your thigh. She gives you a gentle squeeze and settles back in her seat to watch the city blur as you speed to the gallery. Your hand stays over hers, relishing in her warmth.

Pulling up to the gallery, photographers surround your car. Security works to usher them away so you can get out. Once there is a path, you give her hand a squeeze before hopping out to open her door. Helping her out of the car, she keeps her head down as the flashes strobe around you. You wrap your arm around her, protecting her from the photographers pushing closer. Once inside the gallery she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“They knew it was you immediately! They really wanted to talk to you out there.”

“Yeah, they memorized all my cars… And the only people I talk to are the reporters inside and I don’t even want to talk to them.”

“Why not?” You sigh in response.

“I don’t like talking about my art. I want my art to speak for itself. Everybody interprets a piece differently, I don’t want to tell people what they should see.”

“Well I certainly look forward to telling you what I see in your art.”

“I can’t wait.” She smiles up at you, damn her smile is breathtaking.

Her hand clings to your arm as you take a turn around the gallery. You politely greet patrons and listen to her analysis of your work. You scan the room for Thomas. Eventually you spot him, his eyes go wide when he spots the woman on your arm. You wink at him, but he stares daggers directly into your soul. You approach him with a shit eating grin. You aren’t sure why he is so mad, but he’s just too fun to mess with at this point.

“Rafayel! Right on time, wow, that’s so unlike you.”

“I’m always right on time Thomas. Nothing really starts until I arrive.”

“Right. Right. And hello miss, who might you be?”

Now he is staring daggers at your date. The primal urge to wrap your hands around his throat takes you by surprise. This is literally your first date with this woman - besides your night with her at the club and in your hotel room. It just makes you angry. That’s all you know. You wrap your arm around her shoulder, your smile tense.

“This is Y/N. She’s my date tonight.”

Thomas chokes on air. He coughs for a minute before regaining his composure.

“I apologize, ahem, hello Y/N it is a pleasure to meet you. I just didn’t expect Rafayel to bring a date tonight. He usually attends exhibits alone.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s branching out. It’s nice to meet you Thomas.”

“Might I have a word with Rafayel for a brief moment? I have to prepare him for a few interviews.”

“Of course. I’m going to find the bar and grab a drink.”

“I’ll find you as soon as I’m done.” She winks at you before turning to stride towards the bar. You watch her walk away, her ass swaying. She knows what she’s doing, you just know it.

“Fuck!” Thomas hits you over the back of the head. The sting of the slap against the stitches makes your vision blur momentarily. “Thomas, I have stitches you dickhead.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. But what the fuck are you doing? You know who that is right?”

Thomas lowers his voice to a whisper as he pulls you over to an empty corner. His face is shrouded in shadow, but you can tell he is beyond pissed.

“Yes, I know who she is. I met her at the club last night and we might have… uhh…”

“You might have what?”

“I might have… okay, before you sent me the details I might have met her at the club and then we may have gone back to my hotel room and…”

“Please stop. You did not fuck. You did not. Oh for fucks sake, Rafayel!”

“I know! I know it's complicated, but I have a plan.”

“Oh, you have a plan?”

“Yes!”

You did not, in fact, have a plan.

“Just trust me.”

He should not trust you.

“I’ll do the interviews and be out of here in a blink and focus on the job.” You couldn’t focus on anything but getting back to your place with her and getting a repeat of last night.

“Fine. Lucy and Kenneth want to interview you and let the photographers get a few shots of you. But I beg of you, don’t get any pictures with her that look, too friendly. It’d be front page news tomorrow.”

You decide not to tell him they’d already photographed the both of you when you arrived. She had kept her head down and the security surrounded you, they hadn’t gotten a clear shot. It’ll be fine.

“I got you. Don’t even worry about it. Oh and next time you want to borrow my car… ask.”

Thomas’ face turns bright red. He nods and runs a hand through his hair before scurrying away to talk to a group of businessmen surrounding one of your latest works. Probably looking to purchase and hang up in their stuffy office. You’d rather go broke than let your art suffer in such a place.

You turn towards the bar and spot your gorgeous date sipping a martini, chatting with a woman in a navy suit. She looks like… oh no. Not McCarthy. You damn near sprint over to stop the conversation before McCarthy can pull any salacious details regarding your connection with the mystery woman everyone saw you arrive with.

“Oh that’s fascinating! Rafayel seems like someone who wouldn’t need a muse if I’m honest.”

Shit.

“I’ve been reporting on Rafayel’s career since the very beginning. I’ve seen him go through many muses. I am so looking forward to seeing what he has in store with your… influence.”

Your instincts to drag her to a secluded building and end her miserable little life… The moment you see the sparkle fade from your beautiful dates eyes, your mind shifts into overdrive. You step closer and wrap your arm around her waist pulling her close to your side.

“McCarthy. So good to see you. How’s the divorce going? Must be a nightmare with the defamation lawsuit my lawyers launched against your agency.”

McCarthy’s face falls and her nostrils flare as you air out her dirty laundry. If she’s going to be a bitch, you have no problem being a bitch as well. You’re not going to let her ruin this… whatever “this” is.

“Ah, yes, it’s uhm… difficult, but I have no doubt the lawsuit will be dropped. My sources are always airtight, Mr. Rafayel.” Oh she is really trying your patience.

“Airtight? Hmm… a thieving gallery janitor, an abusive valet, a housekeeper who set up secret cameras in my house on behalf of - oh right - yourself and your agency. I think you might need to look up the definition of airtight, Madison.”

McCarthy’s brows knit together. She sucks in a breath and bows her head.

“I believe my colleague just arrived. I do hope you both enjoy the evening.”

She turns on her heel and leaves in a hurry. You stifle a laugh at how red her face became after calling out her bullshit. But the cutie on your arm shifts uncomfortably next to you and all the joy of ruining McCarthy’s night vanishes. Turning to face her, you see her cheeks flushed and her restless fingers twisting the martini glass in her hands.

“Sorry about that cutie. McCarthy is a pariah. She had to start her own news agency since no one would hire her with her dirty investigation tactics.”

“Yeah…”

“What are you thinking? Come on, I see those wheels turning.”

“Just because she uses dirty tactics doesn’t mean her intel is false.”

This is not the conversation you wanted to be having tonight. Sure, you’ve had a few slut phases and the term “muse” was widely used by the media when referencing your… escapades. But this girl… she’s not a muse. She’s the air in your lungs. She makes colors brighter and the sun warmer. What is above a muse? Whatever that is, she’s that. But you have to be honest with her now. She could just go home and look you up on the internet. And that would make everything worse.

“She’s not wrong, I’ve had my fair share of muses. But before you start thinking you’re just another one - you’re not.”

“You have to admit, that’s what I’d expect you to say.”

“You got me there. But I mean it. You approached me last night, remember? You took me by surprise, I couldn’t… I didn’t even… I…”

“You’re cute when you stutter.”

You let out a loud laugh and pull her closer to you, her hand reaching up to rest against your chest.

“You make it hard for me to think straight. It’s why I like being around you, I can’t get lost in my thoughts when you’re around.”

She shifts her leg to press against your cock - half hard from earlier and growing harder as she rubs her thigh against you. She is playing a dangerous game.

“It’s not the only thing that gets hard around me, huh?” Oh she really likes to tease… damn it. That is your specialty and she is beating you at your own game.

You lean in close and let your lips graze her ear. She shivers as your breath hits her skin.

“Have you seen yourself? You drive me crazy.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” She leans back and bats those dark lashes at you.

“Please do.”

She reaches her arms around your neck and pulls you close. Her chest pressing against you so you can feel her nipples hard against the thin fabric of her top. Yeah, you’re not going to be the one to kill her, she’s going to kill you at this rate. You feel her hot breath against your ear as she speaks..

“I’ve been wet for you since we got here.”

You don’t even hesitate before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the offices at the back of the gallery. Digging into your pocket you find your phone and open the gallery management app. She giggles as she jogs along behind you trying to keep up with your pace. You press your phone to the panel on the door and slide the bar on your phone to unlock. You swing the door open and pull her into the dark hallway, closing the door with your foot and relocking it on your phone. You find the nearest office and pull her inside.

And just like that, your lips are on hers again. Your pounding heartbeat steadies, the closer she is the calmer you feel. Her hands run all over you, your chest, your neck, your hair. She pushes your jacket off of your shoulders as you pull her skirt up over her hips. You pull back and start trailing kisses down her jaw, settling yourself into her neck nipping and sucking until her breathing is ragged.

She tugs at the buttons of your shirt and slides her hands in to caress your chest. God her hands against your skin feel like fire. You shrug off your shirt before returning your hands to her back, tugging at the clasps of the bustier. They unclasp easily and you pull back to watch it fall away, her breasts bouncing as they’re released from the structured top. You toss the top to the floor before leaning forward and capturing one of her nipples in your mouth. She lets out a moan as her head falls back.

You tuck your hands under her ass and release her nipple from your mouth with a loud pop. You lift her and she wraps her legs around you. She wasn’t lying, you can feel her wetness against your stomach as you carry her to the desk.

You don’t even bother to look for the nameplate on the desk before shoving the folders to the side and settling her ass on the cool wooden surface. Your fingers hook on her lace panties and you tug them forward. You both gasp when you hear a ripping sound. You look down and see the fabric is torn in half. She slaps you on your shoulder.

“I liked those!” Her voice is raspy and full of need. Her hands quickly wrap around the back of your neck, almost forgetting her torn undergarments.

“I’ll buy you a new pair in every color. At least now, it’s one less thing to remove later.”

“Later?” She giggles against you as you resume kissing her neck, slowly moving down to her chest. Your hands digging into her hips.

“I plan to make you cum until you lose your voice from screaming my name. This is just a preview.”

You reclaim her nipple in your mouth and gently tug at the sensitive bud with your teeth. She groans loudly and shifts her hips forward, desperate for more. You oblige, of course. You run your finger over her entrance and whimper against her skin - she’s so damn wet. You pull back and press your forehead to hers, flashing a devious smile at her before sinking your middle finger into her needy pussy.

She brings her hands to the back of your head and pulls you to her. She kisses you hard between breaths. You feel your cock throb as she kisses you. Her tongue presses against your lips, but you’re enjoying these moments of teasing. Your finger plunges deeper, earning you a low grunt and shiver. You press your ring finger inside of her, dragging the pads of your fingers against her slick walls.

It seems she isn’t going to let you be the only tease. She bites your lower lip and drags it out as she leans back. You taste the faintest bit of blood on your tongue and make a sound you didn’t even know you could make. You hate how it sounds like a growl, she probably thinks you sound like an animal. As quickly as you think she hated it, you were proven wrong since she is squeezing the living fuck out of your fingers.

As you remove your fingers, she breaks the kiss to whine at the sudden emptiness. She looks down, expecting you to pull your cock out, but instead, you lower to your knees. Her eyes widen and you chuckle as you catch her eye. Your hands slowly caress her calves until you reach her ankles, you lift them swiftly and toss her legs over your shoulders. She gasps and shifts her hips pushing her pussy closer to your face. God she smells divine.

You press your mouth against her, allowing your nose to split her open before dragging your tongue from her entrance to her clit. You suckle her clit slowly as you unbuckle your pants and push them down over your hips to stroke your aching cock. With one hand on your cock, you move your other hand up over her thigh to thumb her clit.

You shift your mouth away from her clit as your thumb takes over. You turn your head side to side to sink your mouth as deeply inside her as you possibly can. You press your tongue into her entrance, savoring just how sweet she is. She writhes against your mouth as you continue to swirl and push your tongue deeper. You feel her pussy squeeze your tongue and you can’t hold back a moan. The vibrations must have sent her over the edge because she’s gripping your hair and trying (and failing) to stifle her shouts of pleasure.

“Rafayel... fuck I’m coming ahh- I’m oh my god…”

Her voice is low, she can barely breathe, and it completely unravels you. As if there was a countdown, both of you are coming. All you can hear are the filthy sounds coming from your mouth, the slurping, the moans, you aren’t even thinking about the mess you’re making under the desk.

When you finally pull back and look up to her, her cheeks are flushed and her chest heaving. She looks down at you and clasps a hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle as she looks to the floor below you. You follow her gaze and see the mess you made. Whoever uses this office is going to lose their shit tomorrow….

“It’s always a good sign when it’s messy.”

“Is it now?”

She smiles as you rise to your feet and tuck yourself back inside your pants. She reaches for you and you settle your hands on the outside of her thighs. She slowly traces her fingers over your abs, chest and down your arms. Your breath catches when her hands return to your shoulders and trial up to your face, tugging your chin upwards to look at her.

“As much as I like seeing this side of you, I’m really glad you invited me today. Seeing your art, you’re incredibly talented.”

“I’ve never enjoyed these events, that is until today. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me feel on fire and completely calm at the same time?”

“I was going to ask you the same question…”

Your heart skips a beat. She locks her fingers behind your neck. She gently pulls you into a kiss. Not a heated, passionate kiss, but a gentle kiss. Her soft lips press against yours, her tongue tracing your bottom lip slowly. She doesn’t tease like earlier, she’s sweet and slow. You don’t deny her this time. She slips her tongue between your lips and she sighs softly as she tastes herself on your tongue.

Knock knock

You pull back and she gasps, quickly wrapping an arm over her breasts as she glances over her shoulder at the door. You quickly scoop her top off the floor and toss it to her. She wraps it around her backwards and reconnects the clasps before shifting it around and pulling the cups up over her chest. Just as you finish buttoning your shirt another knock sounds at the door.

Knock knock knock

You stride across the office thrusting your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. You glance over and see the gorgeous woman beside you straightening her skirt. She gives you a soft smile and nods. You know the desk will hide the mess you made and there’s nothing else to signify anything unsavory happened. You take half a second to wonder who else at the event had access to the private offices. Maybe Thomas? Is he looking for you?

You swing open the office door and are blinded by a flash. You blink rapidly as your eyes readjust. You hear a gasp behind you and as your pupils return to a normal size, you understand the reaction. Your stomach drops in an instant.

“How interesting… Seems I was right after all.”

McCarthy stands in the doorway, a camera in one hand and her other on her hip. By the shit eating grin on her face, she must think she has something worthwhile to print. You chuckle under your breath and stare at her.

“McCarthy, if you’re not careful, I could easily add stalking to that lawsuit.”

“I have a key. And I’ve used this office before. But I will admit, I’ve never used it like you two just did.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about McCarthy, but if you don’t-” She cuts you off.

“A photo is worth a thousand words, Rafayel. And a photo of a famous playboy artist, his… muse… and her torn panties on the floor of an office is surely worth several thousand.”

You hold your breath as you look over your shoulder. Sure enough, the torn panties you tossed aside are on full display. By the time you turn back around, McCarthy is gone. You stumble out into the hallway, jogging to the end and back looking for any sign of her or where she could have gone. Your chest starts hurting and you realize you haven’t taken a deep breath in several minutes. You gasp for air and run a hand through your hair. Thomas asked you for one thing.

“I’m sorry…” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

When you turn to look at her, you see her wrapping her blazer around her torso. You hadn’t realized she’d slipped it on. It’s like she’s using it to hide. You walk right up to her and hold her face in your hands.

“No no no. Stop. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“If I hadn’t been teasing you, we wouldn’t have even come in here and-”

“McCarthy is the lowest of the low. I’ll call her to see what I need to do so she won’t publish the photo. I’ll even get the fucker who gave her a key fired for good measure. It’ll be okay. You have nothing to apologize for and I don’t want you to think you’re responsible for any of this bullshit.”

“I know you have interviews to do before we leave. But you probably shouldn’t go out there with lipstick on your neck.”

She licks her thumb and gently wipes away the lipstick stain. You smile and lean in to kiss her forehead. You let go of her hips and cross the room to where the discarded panties lay. You stoop down and pick them up, swiftly placing them in your pocket.

“Are you keeping them as a souvenir?”

“What if I was?”

“That’d be pretty hot.”

“What would be pretty hot?”

Thomas’ voice startles both of you. You glare at him over her shoulder, but as soon as you meet his eyes you know you’re on borrowed time. He’s angry. No, not angry. He’s homicidal. You’ve never seen him look like this. It’s kind of impressive, if not terrifying.

“Thomas, I’m glad you’re here. Have you seen McCarthy?”

You approach the door, casually slipping your arm back around her and pulling her into a reassuring embrace. Keep her calm. Defuse the bomb that is Thomas. Bribe McCarthy. Talk to the journalists. Get this woman home to fuck until neither of you can walk. Easy.

“Oh, I’ve seen her. And boy, does she work fucking fast.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rafayel, I asked you for one thing. Just one. And now, I have an absolute shit storm to deal with.”

“Thomas, what are you talking about?”

“Check your phone.”

You pull out your phone just as her phone rings.

“I have to take this, one sec.” She steps further into the office to take the call.

Unlocking your phone you see a never-ending list of notifications. Social media, texts from friends and other artists, multiple missed calls from Thomas and a call from an unknown number. As you sift through the notifs you finally see what they’re in relation to. Your knees nearly give out. You look up at Thomas, eyes wide.

“What… I… how…”

“You never pay attention to my updates and now it is biting us both in the ass.”

You look over your shoulder and your eyes lock onto hers. The horror in her eyes tells you she already knows. Her eyes glisten with tears and your anger is about to take over. When this is sorted, McCarthy is dead.

“You told me…”

“I told you McCarthy has moved to instant news. As soon as she got that damn photo she was already uploading it. Now the world knows about your little sexipade and her name is trending with the hashtag Rafayel’s girlfriend.”

“Fuck.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @crystalrainforest @libriomancer

I wasn't sure I would write another part to this, but I am low key glad I did. More to come I hope!

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