CHAPTER 48: GUEST II

Devon’s smirk lingered like a shadow in the dimly lit dining room, the soft hum of the refrigerator in the adjacent kitchen the only sound breaking the tense silence. The air was thick with the remnants of their makeshift meal, the faint aroma of red wine mingling with the sharp tang of cheese and Mark’s steady, drugged breaths provided a rhythm, his head pillowed on his arms atop the tablecloth.

Sophie stood under the warm glow of the chandelier, her skin flushed with a mix of humiliation, anger, her blonde curls cascaded over her shoulders, partially veiling her full breasts, but nothing could hide the way her nipples tightened in the cool air, or the subtle quiver in her thighs as Devon’s gaze devoured her.

He remained seated, his posture relaxed yet commanding, like a king on his throne surveying a conquered realm. His dark eyes traced every curve, the gentle swell of her hips, the smooth expanse of her stomach, the trimmed patch of curls at the apex of her thighs.

Lust burned in him, his mind replaying the office encounter, her body arching against him, her slick heat clenching around his cock, her moans a symphony of reluctant ecstasy. She hated him, yes, but her pussy had told a different story, dripping and eager, betraying her. Now, here in her sanctum, he wanted to claim her again, to shatter her defiance piece by piece.

"Oh, Sophie," he murmured, his voice a silken caress laced with mockery. "I’m well aware of those documents you and your accomplice Helena took from my office. Quite the operation, using that gorgeous body of yours to keep me occupied. But truthfully? It won’t lead you anywhere worthwhile. All that effort, all those risks... it’ll fizzle out in vain, darling."

Sophie’s frown etched deeper lines into her face, her emerald eyes narrowing as she hugged her arms across her chest, a futile attempt to shield herself from his scrutiny.

The dining room felt smaller, the walls closing in, the family photos on the sideboard mocking her with images of happier times, Mark grinning at the camera, Lily’s chubby cheeks smeared with birthday cake. How had it come to this? "You’re bluffing," she retorted, her voice a fierce whisper, laced with desperation.

"We have solid evidence, the ledgers, the transfers, the FHCA’s already digging. You’re finished, Devon. Money laundering, fraud... it’s all there."

He shrugged again, a lazy roll of his broad shoulders that made his button down shirt strain against his muscled chest. The casual gesture infuriated her, as if her carefully laid plans were nothing more than a child’s game. "Believe what you want, it changes nothing. Whether you cling to that fantasy or not is irrelevant. I’m not here to argue about your little crusade." His eyes darkened further, the lust in them intensifying, raw and unapologetic, like a fire stoked by her vulnerability.

Sophie’s heart pounded, a drumbeat of fear and fury. She shifted her weight, acutely aware of her nudity, the cool hardwood floor under her bare feet grounding her in this nightmare. "Then what are you here for? You’ve already humiliated me, made me strip like some cheap whore in the office. Isn’t that enough?"

Devon’s gaze intensified, searing her skin as he sized her up once more, explicit hunger in every lingering glance. He drank in the sight of her, the way her breasts heaved with each ragged breath, full and inviting, nipples begging for his mouth, the curve of her waist flaring into hips that swayed just slightly with her unease, hips he’d gripped before, pounding into her with savage need, her thighs, toned and trembling, leading to that sweet, pink pussy he’d claimed, slick and tight, clenching around him like a vice.

God, he wanted her again, wanted to bend her over this table, fuck her raw while her husband slept inches away, make her scream his name and forget her hatred in a haze of ecstasy. His cock throbbed painfully in his trousers, straining for release. "What I want," he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly timbre thick with desire, "is for you to strip completely again. Take it all off, Sophie. Slowly. Let me see every inch of that luscious body, the tits I’ve squeezed, the ass I’ve spanked, the pussy that’s soaked for me even when you pretend to hate it."

Her outrage boiled over, a flush spreading from her chest to her cheeks as she glanced wildly at Mark’s unconscious form. "You’re out of your mind!" she spat, her voice rising to a harsh whisper, trembling with indignation. "You think I’d do that here? Right in front of my husband? You’re fucking insane, Devon! A complete psychopath!"

He shook his head slowly, his smirk unwavering, though a flash of steel entered his eyes. "Insane? No, just enforcing consequences. What do you think would happen if I whispered to the hospital directors about your sticky fingers? Or, better yet, shared those office security feeds, you and Helena rifles through my desk? Or when you were having sex? Your job? Gone. Your reputation? Shredded. You’d be lucky to flip burgers, Sophie. Beg me properly, and maybe I’ll let it slide."

Sophie’s world tilted, panic clawing at her throat as tears welled in her eyes. She backed up a step, her bare feet cold on the floor, her arms wrapping tighter around herself. "Please, Devon, no. Not here, not like this. We can... we can go somewhere else. Tomorrow, or a motel, anywhere but my home. Not with Mark right there, not where my daughter could wake up. I’m begging you, have some mercy."

Devon’s expression turned implacable, his voice a low growl. "This is mercy, Sophie. Your punishment for thinking you could steal from me, for plotting behind my back. I could have ruined you tonight, fired, blacklisted, left you begging on the streets while Mark wonders why his wife’s a thief. But I’m choosing the easier path. Strip, or face the consequences."

Her pleas escalated, her voice breaking as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Devon, please, think about what you’re asking. This is my life, my family. I’ll do it anywhere else, anytime else. Just not here. God, please, don’t make me do this."

He leaned forward, his gaze hardening, the lust now edged with dominance. "Fine, would you rather I wake Mark up? Let him see his devoted wife stripping for her boss? Or explain why he’s suddenly so... drowsy? Your call, Sophie. But decide quick, my patience is thinning."

The ultimatum shattered her resistance, a sob catching in her throat as defeat washed over her. With trembling hands, she reached for the buttons of her blouse, her fingers fumbling as she undid them one by one. The fabric parted slowly, revealing the lacy bra beneath, her skin prickling with goosebumps under his watchful eyes.

She shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms to pool at her feet, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Next came the bra, her fingers hooked the clasp, hesitating for a heartbeat before releasing it, the lace falling away to expose her full breasts, nipples hardening traitorously in the air.

Devon’s breath grew heavier, his eyes fixed on her, the raw desire evident in the bulge straining his trousers. She unzipped her jeans next, pushing them down her hips with agonizing slowness, the denim whispering against her skin as it hit the floor. Her panties followed, simple cotton, now damp with a betrayal she couldn’t deny, sliding down her thighs until she stepped free, standing naked before him, her body a vision of vulnerability and unwilling allure.

He drank her in, his smirk triumphant as he shifted in his chair. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice husky with need. "Now, come closer. Take my cock out of my trousers, slowly."