CHAPTER 45: CHAPTER 45: VICTORIA BLAKE SEALED

Gezza pushed the doors of the library open, and the hinges screamed, and the city heat beat his face. Sneakers meet broken sidewalks, The Vault scheme a-humming.

He fished his phone--screen broken, throbbing--Victoria Blake: 17 missed calls, 3 days. Snubbed her too long. Swip answer, swip answer, swip answer, swip answer.

Her voice, her voice, Thompson, her voice, bossy edge, hitching breath. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Busy, boss," Gezza drawled, sleazy grin in a shop window, cocky swagger in his walk. "Miss me?"

An interval—wet gulp, passion eating her out. "We need to talk. Now."

---

Seven seals—next, her empire. Skyscraper lobby gleamed—marble, security cameras, his reflection in polished steel.

He paused at the revolving door, city lights pulsing below. Soon, this building’s mine.

He tilted his head up, glass tower stabbing the night, Victoria’s floor glowing like a violet rune. Sneakers scuffed forward.

Door clicked behind him. Time to seal the boss.

Gezza had sneaked into the glass office, the door clicking. "Privacy," he smirked, voice low. Victoria sat facing up, with her knotted hands in her lap, pencil skirt tight, bob perfect but eyes wild.

He walked up to her desk and he dropped into the chair, sneaker banging into her desk.

She did not shudder--she did not send it down. Instead she looked at him her eyes sultry.

She gasped."I do not know why I feel this way", she began, with a voice that was cracking like glass and "I was unable to think straight since I had met him. "

She was on her heels, she walked to him her hand upon his thigh, trembling, squeezing.

Gezza’s grin widened—it’s working.

Under the desk Playbook was humming, the glowing runes, faint red: "SEAL HER."

His leg fell, he was as near as he could, her breath pulling him hot. Her hands slid to his chest,

The blouse of Victoria was opened, lace bra shining in glare of office fluorescents, her heart was heaving, and a crimson glow extended.

The grin of Gezza was pure sleaze, Playbook humping under the chair, runes blazing crimson.

He bumped down papers, desk moaning, lifting her up, awkwardly lifting her skirt to her hips. Her knees apart, her panty-hose ripped at the waist, bare heat..

His fingers were going in and out, two curling to the depths of the sticky heat of Victoria, wet squelch filling the office with glass walls.

She squealed, and threw her head back upon the mahogany table, bob rolling like spilt ink.

Her left breast was cupped in Gezza’s free hand and the thumb was scraping through torn laces around the nipple.

A moan shook her throat, which she tried to stop by sinking her teeth in her lip.

"Hush! boss!" he said, with a cocky laugh, fingers stiffening, scratching to her upper wall, dripping juice on smooth wood.

The knuckles of Victoria whitened on the table-edge, hips jerking.

He reached between the breasts and rubbed them as he undid lace bras down to the waist.

Nipples became hard in his palms, and he rolled one and then another, between fingers, and his middle finger hoisted closer, her clit rubbing his thumb in wet circles.

"Mmmph!" and she tried to suppress it, choking and cracking her voice. The skyline of the city was beating, with neon lights stuttering through glass walls, and her flushed face put upside-down in the window.

He put in a third finger, and pulled her, wet slaps ringing.

She shuddered in the knees, pantyhose to tatters at the crotch, and greasy on his wrist. Gezza was pinching her nipple, and, holding on, she was arched, creaking dangerously at the desk.

"Fuck--Gezza!" hissed she, strangled voice moaning repressed into whimpers. He was playing slow, teasing, shallow strokes of his fingers, going around her clit with his thumb, teasing her.

The desperate and wet squelch of her hips in hot pursuit, with each tease.

He curled up and three of his fingers were scraping her G-spot, his thumb in tight, relentless circles around her clit.

Her breath came in short gasps, moaning and choking. He pinched her right breast between thumb and forefinger, and squeezed the nipple of the right breast, then slowly, and then faster, as his fingers moved.

Her walls leaked and juice spurted with every stroke, desk wet. She felt his tongue lick her left nipple, suck, teeth scrape.

She pressed her lips the harder, blood popping, moans subsiding into whimpers.

Then the door Knock-knock-knock.

"Ms. Blake?

The handle rattled. It’s already 5:00 pm Closing . Everything okay?"

The eyes of Victoria were opened, and she had panic, but Gezza just kept working with his fingers, lifting them into curls, and then rubbing her thumb in tight circles over her clit. "I’m all right, I’m all right", she said, trying hard, not to moan. "Go home. Lock up."

Wet slurp obscene deeper in fingers, thumb flicking more on her clit.

She clenched her thighs, clawed her toes in stilettos. Footsteps died, outer lock clicking.

"Good girl", Gezza rasped, and put a fourth finger, which widened her wet squelch, even louder.

She moaned, gasping "Gezza fuck!—"hips bucking.

His tongue was swirling, sucking her nipple, pinching the other. Her walls throbbed, juice running in his hand.

Slow again, shallow strokes, working her, thumb circling her clit slowly.

"Please", she whined, nails tearing desk, making grooves.

He pulled his fingers out, dripping greasily, unzipping jeans with a metallic rasp, cock jumping out, veins swelling.

"Guess you dealthe real deal" He reached and took her hips, and pulled her to the edge of the desk, and thighs open and thrust in, one savage stroke.

Her scream was torn off—"Ahhhh Gezza!—walls like a vice, desk banging against glass, city skyline trembling below. With every pound, neon lights flashed, flesh banged, her breasts jiggling crazily.

Louder, he growled and banged louder, hands on her hips, fingernails in flesh. Let the entire city know.

Her moans exploded—"Fuck--yes! More, more, more, more!-— legs round his waist, heels in his back.

He beat and beat, desk aching, papers flying, her pussy aching, wetting his thighs. Glass fogged in her palms as he turned her, bending her down, putting her ass high.

Slaps, thumps, her screams, "Gezza! deeper! He seized her lock of hair, yanking it, making her back arch, cock thrusting deep into her.

"Bossy bitch loves getting railed, loves getting spanked on the ass, red", he taunted, and her ass flushed. She moved away, in time, pussy throbbing, juices sliding down her thighs.

He touched her up, rubbing her clit once more, fingers oily, and teasing her climax.

Still, shallow strokes, coquetish, thumb around her clit at a slow pace.

"Cum with me", he said, cocky. Her walls fluttered, begging.

"I would do anything for you," she pleaded, nails clawing the desk, and making scratches.

He beat in and out and over— his first ejaculation in her— I’m cumming! squeezed out, drowning his cock, glass— dripping.

He continued his thrusting, making her no rest, her second wave rising, choking moans turned to sobs.

He turned her on her back with her against the glass, and her back to the fog, her legs over his shoulders.

Thrusts were beating high, glass squeaking, her screams breaking "Fuck Gezza! He sucked her nipple, biting, tongue flicking, fingers rubbing her clit in tight circles.

Below, smear of city lights, neon flashing with each slam. She ripped his hoodie, scratching the fabric, bleeding with nails.

Instead he threw her onto the desk, missionary, wrapping wrists, pounding brutal, jiggling boobs, desk splintering.

"Say it, say you love me" he growled, putting himself in, shallow strokes, milking her pussy.

"I love you, Gezza!" She screamed, glassy eyes spill. "I want to be yours--forever!"

Playbook beneath the desk hummed in Gezza head: "SEALED.

He dropped, hard, nutting, hot, load pouring into her, her third orgasm shaking, screaming his name, juices blending, desk wet.

He continued to thrust, to milk her out, her body trembling, the cum falling, the city lights flashing below.

Victoria slumped, cum leaking down her thigh, lace bra dangling like a broken flag.

Playbook thumped once—runes cooling to violet, "VICTORIA BLAKE – SEALED" etched in fresh ink, the letters smoking faintly.

Gezza zipped up, smirk fading—seven down, empire next.

His phone vibrated against his hip, screen cracking light in the dim office. Marie.

He swiped, thumb slick with sweat and cum.

"Hey. Wassup."

Her voice cut through, low, electric. "Our guy’s rolling into The Vault now."

"Nice. You really gonna snatch him?"

"If the alley’s dark enough. You in?"

"Nope. Told you—you’re on your own."

Click. Line dead, silence ringing.

Argh I actually want to be their to see. Hmm the taught. Then he turned, pulled Victoria up by the wrist—heels scraping, cum streaking the desk.

Kissed her neck, slow, teeth grazing. She gasped, eyes shimmering with Playbook lust, violet runes mirrored in her pupils.

"Can you give me a ride?" he murmured, thumb wiping cum from her thigh, smearing it across her lower lip.

She nodded, voice husky: "Anywhere."