Chapter 112: Chapter 111: The Claiming
ARIA’S POV
His fingers slid through her wetness, and Aria’s entire body trembled against the desk.
"So responsive," Damien murmured from behind her. "Your body always tells me the truth, even when your mouth tries to lie Aria."
She couldn’t form words. Could barely breathe. Her ass was still burning from the spanking, her panties were around her thighs, and his fingers were exploring her with deliberate, maddening slowness.
Through the glass wall in front of her, she could see Emma settling back at her desk with fresh coffee. Mark walking past with files. Jennifer laughing at something on her phone.
Normal office life. Completely oblivious to what was happening just twenty feet away.
"Please," Aria whispered, not even sure what she was begging for.
"Please what?" His fingers circled her clit, barely touching, teasing. "Use your words."
"Please, Damien. I need....."
"You need what? To come? To be reminded who owns this body? To understand what complete submission actually means?"
"Yes. All of it. Please."
His finger slid inside her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
"Still so tight," he said, wonder in his voice. "Even after everything we’ve done, you’re still so tight around my fingers."
He added a second finger, stretching her, and her hands scrabbled on the desk for purchase.
"Remember where we are," he warned. "Remember who could see if you draw attention. Stay quiet. Stay still."
His fingers began moving, slow and deliberate, while his thumb found her clit.
Aria’s breath came in shallow pants. Her thighs were shaking. The combination of pain from the spanking and pleasure from his fingers was overwhelming, too much, not enough, everything.
"That’s it," he murmured. "Take what I give you. Show me how good you can be."
His fingers curled inside her, finding that spot that made her see stars, and she couldn’t stop the small whimper that escaped.
"Quiet," he commanded. "Or I stop. Your choice."
She bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood, forcing herself to silence while his fingers worked her closer and closer to the edge.
"You’re going to come on my fingers," he said, his voice low and controlled. "Right here. Right now. While people work just beyond these walls. While anyone could look up and see you bent over my desk, skirt around your waist, completely at my mercy."
The image he painted, the humiliation mixed with arousal, pushed her closer to the edge.
"And you’re going to do it quietly," he continued. "Because you’re a good girl. Because you know how to obey. Because you understand what it means to be mine."
His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit, and Aria felt herself climbing, climbing, about to....
"Come," he commanded. "Now."
The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. Her entire body seized, her inner walls clamping down on his fingers, pleasure crashing through her in waves so intense she saw white.
She pressed her face against the cool wood of the desk, muffling her cry against the surface, her body shaking with the force of her release.
Damien’s fingers kept moving, prolonging the orgasm, wringing every last bit of pleasure from her trembling body until she was boneless, spent, barely able to stand.
"Beautiful," he murmured, his fingers finally stilling. "So beautiful when you come for me."
He withdrew his fingers slowly, and she whimpered at the loss.
For a moment, there was just the sound of her ragged breathing. The normal office sounds beyond the glass. Her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Then his hands were on her hips, pulling her upright, turning her around to face him.
His eyes were dark with desire, his control clearly tested. But his voice remained steady when he spoke.
"Pull up your panties. Smooth down your skirt."
She obeyed with shaking hands, wincing as the fabric touched her still-burning ass.
"Now look at me."
She met his eyes, saw the satisfaction there, the possessiveness, the claim.
"Do you understand what just happened?" he asked.
"You punished me. Made me come."
"No." He stepped closer, crowding her against the desk. "I claimed you. Properly. Completely. In a way that leaves no doubt about who you belong to."
His hand came up, cupped her face gently despite the intensity in his eyes.
"This is what the next few weeks are going to look like," he said. "I’m going to touch you when I decide you need it. Punish you when I decide you deserve it. Make you come when I want to remind you who owns your pleasure."
"Here? In the office?"
"Here. At my home. Wherever I decide. You agreed to complete submission, Aria. This is what that looks like."
She should be terrified. Should refuse. Should tell him this was too much, too public, too risky.
Instead, she heard herself say: "Yes, Dmien."
Satisfaction flashed in his eyes. "Good girl. Now, you’re going to go to the bathroom. Clean yourself up. Fix your makeup. And when you come back, we’re going to work. Like none of this happened. Like you’re just my assistant and I’m just your boss."
"How am I supposed to...."
"You’ll manage." His thumb stroked her cheek. "Because you’re strong. Because you’re mine. Because you know this is what we both need."
He stepped back, putting professional distance between them.
"And Aria? Tonight, you’re staying late again. We have work to discuss." His smile was dark with promise. "Real work. But after...." His eyes raked over her. "After, we’ll see if you need another reminder about who you belong to."
Her breath caught. "Yes, Damien."
"Good. Now go. You have five minutes."
Aria fled to the bathroom on shaking legs, her body still thrumming with aftershocks.
In the mirror, she looked wrecked. Her lips were swollen from biting them. Her eyes were bright with tears and pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed.
She looked exactly like someone who’d just been spanked and made to come in her boss’s office.
She splashed cold water on her face, reapplied her lipstick with trembling hands, tried to make herself look normal, professional, like her entire world hadn’t just shifted.
When she returned to her desk seven minutes later, Damien was on a call, looking perfectly composed. Like he hadn’t just had his fingers inside her. Like he wasn’t planning to do it again tonight.
He glanced up as she sat down, his eyes meeting hers through the glass.
The look he gave her was possessive. He looked Satisfied.
And despite everything....the risk, the impropriety, the absolute insanity of what they’d just done...Aria felt heat pool in her belly again.
This was going to be the longest day of her life.
**************
DAMIEN’S POV
Damien forced himself to focus on the conference call, but his mind kept replaying the last thirty minutes.
The way she’d bent over his desk so obediently. The way she’d taken her punishment without complaint. The way she’d stayed quiet while he made her come, biting her lip hard enough to bleed rather than draw attention.
The way she’d looked when she came....devastated and beautiful and completely his.
His fingers still smelled like her. He’d deliberately not washed his hands, wanting to keep that scent, that reminder of her submission, her trust, her absolute surrender to his control.
"Mr. Blackwood? Your thoughts on the merger timeline?"
He pulled his attention back to the call. "Move the deadline up two weeks. If they can’t commit by then, we walk."
Professional. Controlled. Like he wasn’t half-hard thinking about what he’d do to Aria tonight.
Because he’d meant what he said. This was just the beginning.
For weeks, he’d kept distance. Tested her. Punished her with coldness and professional boundaries.
But seeing her with Marcus had shattered his resolve. Made him realize that protecting himself was pointless if it meant losing her to someone else.
So now he’d claim her. Properly. Completely. Would remind her body every single day who it belonged to until there was no doubt, no question, no possibility of her looking at another man the way she’d looked at Marcus.
Possessive? Yes.
Obsessive? Absolutely.
But she’d agreed. Had consented explicitly. Had taken everything he’d given her and asked for more.
And if the way she’d come on his fingers was any indication, she needed this as much as he did.
The call ended. He had fifteen minutes before his next meeting.
He pulled up the security app on his phone, checking the footage from this morning. The angles were carefully positioned.....nothing explicit would be visible to anyone who didn’t know what to look for. Just Aria at his desk, apparently discussing something work-related.
But he knew. Would always know what had really happened.
His phone buzzed. A text from Julian.
Lunch today? Haven’t seen you in a week.
Damien considered. Julian would take one look at him and know something had changed. Would probably lecture him about healthy boundaries and appropriate workplace behavior.
But Julian was also his best friend. The only person who knew the full truth about what had happened with Aria.
He had four hours to get through. Four hours of meetings and work and pretending his entire world hadn’t just shifted.
Four hours until he could see her again.
Until he could decide if she needed another reminder.
Until he could watch her try to maintain professionalism while remembering exactly what his fingers had done to her this morning.
This was going to be torture.
For both of them.
But at the same time, it was perfect.
Because at least, they have moved one step closer to what they used to be.
