Chapter 81 Elevator affection (3)
The elevator shuddered back to life with a low, resonant hum.
Overhead lights blinked on, harsh and fluorescent after the dim red glow, exposing everything.
The scattered buttons glinting on the marble floor, the faint fog of breath and body heat on the mirrors, the unmistakable evidence of what they had done.
Lola’s pulse was still racing, her body humming with aftershocks.
Damian’s hands lingered on her hips a moment longer than necessary as he eased out of her.
The slow drag made them both inhale sharply.
He steadied her when her knees threatened to buckle, then reached down to gently pull her lace panties back into place and smooth her skirt down over trembling thighs.
The small act of care after the raw intensity of moments ago sent an unexpected ache through her chest.
She turned in the circle of his arms. Up close, Damian looked thoroughly undone.
His shirt hanging open, tie long gone, dark hair falling across his forehead, lips red and swollen.
A faint sheen of sweat highlighted the sharp line of his jaw. He was breathing as hard as she was.
For a long beat they simply stared at each other, the weight of what had just happened settling between them like smoke.
Damian reached out first, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek with surprising gentleness. “You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.
Lola swallowed. “Define okay.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the first real one she had ever seen from him that wasn’t edged with arrogance. “No regrets?”
She should have said yes. Should have rebuilt the walls that had kept them enemies for so long. Instead she answered honestly. “Not a single one.”
His eyes darkened. He leaned in and pressed a slow, soft kiss to her lips, nothing like the desperate hunger from before.
This one felt almost reverent. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.
“I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I care to admit,” he murmured.
Lila let out a shaky laugh. “You hid it well behind all the sabotage and snide comments.”
“I was an idiot,” he said simply. “ I thought if I kept you at a distance, I wouldn’t have to deal with how much I wanted you.”
The admission hung in the air, vulnerable and unexpected. Lola felt something inside her shift, like a lock clicking open.
The elevator continued its descent, twenty-five floors, twenty, fifteen.
Each passing number reminded them that the real world was waiting outside these walls.
Lila stepped back slightly, gathering the remnants of her composure.
She retrieved her blazer from the floor and shrugged it on, buttoning it over the ruined blouse.
Damian tucked his shirt in, ran a hand through his hair, and somehow managed to look almost respectable again except for the flush on his neck and the satisfied glint in his eyes.
He bent to pick up his discarded tie, folding it carefully before slipping it into his pocket.
Then he gathered the scattered buttons from her blouse, one by one, and pressed them into her palm.
“Souvenir,” he said with a smirk, but his voice was warm.
She closed her fingers around them, heat rising in her cheeks.
Ten floors.
Damian moved closer again, crowding her gently against the rail.
“Tomorrow,” he said, repeating his earlier words but with more urgency now.
“After the pitch. I don’t care who wins the account or the promotion. We will finish this properly.”
Lola arched her brow. “Finish? You think we’re anywhere near finished?”
His answering grin was slow and wicked. “Not even close.”
He traced a fingertip down her arm, raising goosebumps.
“My place. Eight o’clock. I’ll cook or order in. Then I’m going to spend the entire night making up for every time I was an asshole to you.”
“Tall order,” she teased.
“I’m very motivated.”
Five floors.
Lola’s heart was pounding again, but for entirely different reasons now. Anticipation coiled low in her belly. She rose on her toes and brushed her lips against his ear.
“Bring the tie,” she whispered. “I have plans for it.”
Damian’s sharp inhale was reward enough.
When she pulled back, his eyes had gone nearly black with renewed desire.
The elevator slowed to a gentle stop.
Lobby.
The doors slid open to the vast, echoing foyer, polished marble, security desk unmanned at this hour, revolving doors leading out to the quiet street beyond.
Cold air rushed in, carrying the faint scent of impending snow.
They stepped out together. The click of her heels and the softer thud of his shoes echoed in the empty space.
At the revolving doors, Lola paused. She turned to face him fully under the bright lobby lights.
“One more thing,” she said.
He waited, expression unreadable except for the heat still banked in his eyes.
“Tomorrow, in the meeting? Try not to look like you know exactly what I sound like when I come.”
Damian laughed, a low, genuine sound that made something warm bloom in her chest.
“No promises,” he said. “But I’ll do my best.”
He reached out, thumb brushing her lower lip one last time. Then he let her go.
Lola pushed through the revolving door into the crisp December night.
Snow had started to fall, lazy flakes drifting under the streetlights.
She pulled her coat tighter, a secret smile curving her lips as she walked toward the subway.
Behind her, she didn’t need to look to know Damian was still standing in the lobby, watching her go.
The elevator doors closed on the empty car, carrying away the heat and chaos they had created.
But tomorrow night and every night after, if she had anything to say about it would be theirs.
The fire wasn’t dying down.
It was only getting started.
She walked back to her office feeling happy…she could still feel her pussy throb from his intense pounding.
Her face turned crimson red when she remembered the length of his dick.
“I'll make sure I ride you till you can't groan but just breathe loudly tomorrow.” She made a promise in her heart.
She would drop all means of shyness and fuck him hard.