3. Natalie

CHAPTER 3

Natalie

" Y ou son of a bitch. You think you can break into my office and steal? Give me back my phone." I hear myself practically shrieking, losing my temper, and ready to fight for what's mine. I can't stop myself from hurling my fist into Tyler's chest and then toward his face.

There's a switch in Tyler's sharp blue eyes. It's like they glaze over and someone I don't know is standing in front of me. After he flings my phone against the wall, fear spikes through my body as his large hand wraps around my throat. I can feel the weight of his body pushing me back toward the bathroom, out of sight of anyone walking by on the street.

The way my pulse skyrockets, the beat pounding loudly in my ear until Tyler slams me against the closed bathroom door. His fingers squeeze my throat tighter, sending mixed signals all over my body. From the center of my core to the depths of my pussy, my mind rattles between anger and wondering what happens after this.

"That's your biggest problem, Natalie." He jerks me forward and slams me back against the door. When he leans in close, I can feel his breath on my ear as he whispers, "You think you're in charge right now? You're not."

"Just stop now before you cross a line, Tyler. Listen, I don't care about you breaking in here. Let me go and I'll let you walk out of here. I won't call the police or anything." I'm almost convincing enough, but the slight tremble in my voice tells Tyler that I'm more scared than powerful.

Tyler's face is centimeters away from mine. The crookedness of his grin, licking his lips, and the slight graze of his hand on the inside of my thigh ignite an explosion of adrenaline… and something else—something I don't even want to consider or think about. I flail my arms and feet, fighting to get Tyler away from me.

He takes his hand away from my throat, grabbing my arms to stop me from pelting him with my tiny fists. The weight of his leg against my lap stops me from kicking. He aggressively spins me around.

Instant regret courses through my body for wearing yoga pants to check on the alarm notification. I should have called the police. I should have let the alarm company call the police, but I thought it was Anderson checking back in from the long day with Chanel. The last thing I expected to walk in on was Tyler rifling through my desk.

Now, he has me pinned with my stomach pressing against the door as he yanks my thin stretchies down. His hand slips between my thighs, grabbing my bare pussy. It takes everything in me not to whimper and rub against his hand.

His voice has a sinister ring that triggers another dose of adrenaline as he speaks. "I knew you needed to be fucked. Look how wet you are. Promise me when we're done here, you won't beg to rehire me."

Tyler's words give me chills. My body can't stop the reaction, the release of moisture priming me to be fucked. I hate how much I don't want him to stop. I hate how my body suddenly feels more alive than it has in years. The first push of pressure is his finger dipping inside of my pussy.

"Oh my fucking God, you're so wet," he growls, hungry for what's coming.

"Tyler, you don't have to do this. Listen, we can?—"

My words fall on deaf ears as I hear him fumbling around behind me. My heart races, anticipation thrumming in my veins. God, what's going on with me? I should be furious. Instead, it annoys me what's taking him so long. Tyler pulls me away from the wall. With my pants around my hips, I fall forward toward my desk. His hand anchors me to the top.

"You want this cock, don't you? That's why you've been a bitch to me. You hate that I'm not buried balls deep inside you," Tyler snarls as he rubs the tip of his cock at my entrance, thrusting into my walls and sliding in easily.

Jesus. This shouldn't feel as good as it does. I want to tell him to stop and leave, but a moan tries to claw its way out of my throat, and I find myself wanting more of him. More of his thick girth.

"For someone so uptight, you take me so well, Natalie. You know you love this shit," he says, and my body betrays me. My orgasms come one after another as he continues to stroke me into orgasmic violent bliss. He's not smooth. He's not attentive. He doesn't care that I'm coming all over his thickness. Every thrust is powerful enough to nudge the desk back and forth in its spot.

My moans and groans slip out to his satisfaction, and secretly, my own. The smooth glide of every inch pushing in and out of me has me in a state of bliss. I don't remember the last time I had sex. I don't remember the last time a man handled me in a way I liked, in a way that made me climax. These moments shouldn't belong to Tyler, but he owns my body.

The wetter I get, the more he gets into it, slapping my ass with the echo bouncing around the office. He reaches into my hair, pulling it to make me look up at the huge glass window. People are walking by, but no one's paying attention because it looks like we're closed.

"Look at them. They can see how good I'm fucking you, Natalie," Tyler whispers between grunts. All it does is get me excited. "Oh shit, listen to us. You like being watched, don't you? Fucking Naughty Natalie."

The name drives me insane and I find myself pushing back into him, encouraging him to fuck me harder, deeper. The sting of his hand slapping my ass sends a thrill of pleasure and pain rippling up and down my spine.

"Fuck yeah," he pants. "Damn, this pussy's made for me. So fucking tight."

He slaps my ass again, causing me to yelp and now I'm not doing anything to stop the sounds of my enjoyment. I'm honestly tired of fighting it. For the first time in my life, I let go and let the pleasure wash over me in waves.

"I should put you on display. I wish you could see how wet your pussy is for me. You love how I fill you up with my huge cock?"

I groan with pleasure, but he yanks me back. The strands of my hair snap taut as he turns my face to the side, waiting for me to answer.

"Yes," I whimper between thrusts.

"That's what I thought. You needed this fuck. I needed it too," he admits as he pounds into me relentlessly until finally, I feel the stuttering pumps of his climax filling my walls.

As soon as I find myself getting more into it, it ends. Tyler pulls out of me with one last slap across my ass, wiping the head of his cock on my lower back with a chuckle. I can hear him getting himself together, and without another word, Tyler walks out of the office, waving the tablet as he strolls by the huge glass window, tossing me a wink for good measure.

I pull my pants up and look around at the scene in front of me. My bent letter opener with the scratches to my desk drawers, papers all over the place, making me wonder what he was looking for.

Instead of dwelling on Tyler, I power on my laptop to change the security code and schedule the locksmith to come change the locks on the front door. As I walk back to my car, I can still feel him inside of me, pounding into me like a madman.

Despite how much I admittedly enjoyed it, I can't stop the rage building that Tyler got the better of me. He doesn't deserve this win after firing him earlier. He doesn't deserve to take anything from me, let alone sex. He's going to regret this night. He's going to learn what it feels like to be violated, stolen from, taken advantage of. He doesn't get to win.