Chapter 55 Touch Me Like You Hate Me (4)

Chapter 55 Touch Me Like You Hate Me (4)
“Sir?”
I heard someone knocking heavily on my office door, but I was entirely too far gone, pulled too deep into the blinding vortex of lust to answer. Instead of stopping, I gripped Sandra’s waist even tighter, burying myself deeper and harder inside her wet heat.
“Fuck!” Sandra let out a loud, breathless moan, arching her ass back to meet every single shove of my hips. “Fuck me, Mason. Harder!”
We were both completely reckless, lost in the rhythm as I fucked her like an animal in heat. Driven by pure adrenaline, I grabbed her hips and spun her around on the edge of the desk. She didn’t hesitate, immediately wrapping her slender legs tightly around my waist to anchor me.
“Ah!” Sandra’s high-pitched moan filled the entire room as I penetrated her again, sliding all the way to the hilt in one smooth, wet motion.
“Holy fuck!” A guttural groan escaped my chest. She was so incredibly sweet and tight. Her pussy felt like liquid fire as I pounded her over and over against the wood, the desk rattling violently.
“I’m cumming,” she panted, her thighs gripping my waist even tighter as her inner walls began to spasm around my shaft.
“Cum for me, baby,” I growled into her ear, my breathing ragged. “Cum for Zaddy.”
With a few more brutal, shallow thrusts from me, Sandra exploded, her body shaking as she rode out the intense wave of her climax. I quickly withdrew my aching cock from her dripping wetness. She slid off the desk, dropping heavily onto her hands and knees before looking up at me and opening her mouth wide.
I stared down at her degraded state on the floor. Outside of this room, she was a massive celebrity—a flawless woman everyone loved to watch on their television screens. But in here, under my thumb, she was nothing but a dog in heat, begging for it.
She grabbed my throbbing length with her hands, sliding her lips over the head and taking me deep into her throat. I let out a loud groan, my hands gripping her hair as I blew a thick, hot load straight down her throat.
The loud knock came again, sharper this time. Now that I was spent, reality finally crashed back into the room.
“Yes, come in,” I called out, my voice tight as I stepped back.
My secretary, Mary, pushed the door open and gasped the exact second she stepped inside. Her eyes were glued instantly to Sandra, who was still down on her knees, unashamedly using her wet tongue to clean the leftover fluids off my groin.
“Yes, Mary? Is staring all you came in here to do?” I questioned her coldly, my voice dripping with authority.
“Ha...” She was completely taken aback, her face turning bright red as she scrambled for words. “No, sir,” she stammered, quickly ripping her gaze away from the floor and staring at the wall. “Someone is here to see you, sir.”
“Who?” I asked, already zipping up my trousers and buckling my belt. I walked back over to my executive chair and took a seat, smoothing down my shirt and pretending as if nothing scandalous had just happened in the room. Sandra slowly got to her feet, wiping her mouth with a smirk.
“Sir... it’s Mr. Blackwood.”
“What!”
The name hit me like a bucket of ice water. Everyone in the business world knew exactly who Blackwood was—he was the most ruthless, high-profile divorce attorney in the city.
Him coming directly to my company could only mean one terrifying thing. Mira wasn’t just bluffing. She was completely serious about divorcing me, and she was coming for everything I owned.
“The divorce attorney,” Sandra whispered, her voice laced with sudden anxiety as she hovered beside my chair. “But why is he here, Mason?”
Every drop of blood drained from my face, leaving me completely cold. I knew the answer.
That crazy bitch!
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. How dare she? How dare Mira think of divorcing me after everything I had built, everything I had done to provide for her?
“Mason, are you okay?” Sandra gasped, reaching out to touch my cheek. “You look completely pale.”
“Get the fuck away from me!” I snapped, shoving her hand back as I bolted to my feet. The panic was morphing into blind, suffocating rage. I glared at my secretary. “Where the fuck is he, Mary?”
“Sir...” Mary stammered, shrinking back.
“Answer me!”
“He’s... he’s right outside, sir.”
“Then let him in,” I commanded, my chest heaving. The fury inside me was swelling, a frantic attempt to mask the sheer terror clawing at my throat.
“Yes, sir.” Mary turned on her heel and practically fled the office.
“Mason, please, is something wrong?” Sandra’s voice was high, trembling with worry as she tried to smooth down her disheveled dress.
I didn’t even look at her. I completely ignored her.
A dark, venomous realization washed over me. It was because of her. It was entirely because of this homewrecking bitch that Mira wanted to ruin my life.
Yes, it was Sandra’s fault. I had done nothing wrong. I was the victim here—I was just being relentlessly seduced by an attractive celebrity. I made a simple mistake, a slip-up that literally every powerful man makes. Mine wasn’t the first corporate affair, and it damn sure wouldn’t be the last.
Why couldn’t my wife understand that? Why did she have to take things this far?
The heavy mahogany doors swung open.
“Mr. Sterling,” a voice called out.
The greeting wasn’t loud, but it possessed a terrifying, razor-sharp professionalism that cut right through the residual noise in the room. Mr. Blackwood stepped inside.
“Please, take a seat,” I said, forcing my shoulders back and trying to project an aura of executive power. I needed to play tough.
“There is no need for that,” he responded coldly, keeping his hands folded across the front of his impeccably tailored charcoal suit.
Blackwood and I had never crossed paths before—our circles didn’t overlap, and I had never had a reason to look at him up close. But seeing him standing in the center of my office, the sheer gravity of his presence made the room feel microscopic. Everything about him—his unblinking, calculative stare, his rigid posture, the lack of warmth in his expression—screamed lethal danger.
Wasn’t this man supposed to be just a divorce attorney?
My heart hammered against my ribs, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of my neck. Why the hell was I feeling so intimidated in my own building?