Summary: As his PR agent, your job is to manage his image. But when the lines blur behind closed doors, you have to wonder… who’s really in control? cw: smut, office sex. oc x pr agent!reader (my oc stories are always so you can self insert both you and your man. The tags are my face claims/inspo)
Your heels clicked hard against the stone floor of your company building, your features set in a deeper scowl than usual. Both women and men cleared your path as you stormed toward your office, a tabloid open on your iPad.
Your client was already seated, two members of his management team flanking him as if he needed protection from you.
Maybe he did.
You slammed your iPad onto the table the moment you took your seat.
"What is this, sir?"
His lips curled ever so slightly at your tone.
His bodyguards didn’t see it. You did.
One of them raised a hand, looking like he was about to tell you to calm down.
You narrowed your eyes at him and he shut his mouth.
You wheeled your chair as far into your desk as possible and leaned forward in a clear attempt at intimidation.
His heavy-lashed eyes darkened.
Something inside you responded, and not in the way you wanted at the moment.
"This is a PR disaster, sir. I told you that spot was crawling with paparazzi and you still decided to pull that stunt."
Bodyguard number two spoke up. "He has a right to kiss whomever he wants, as long as it was consensual."
You turned to him. "Oh really? Then what are you all doing here?"
He bristled under your glare, unable to find a better comeback.
You took a breath, steadying yourself before they started to think your anger was more than just work related.
"We need to plant a few accounts to make positive comments, post a couple of thirst traps and a cute video, and let the fans do the rest."
You turned back to him. "You’re a star now. You have to be careful about who you’re seen with and what you do in public. I try to do my job, but don’t make it harder than it has to be. Please."
He nodded. "Yes, ma’am."
Your eyes lingered briefly on his lips before darting down to retrieve your tablet from his side of the table.
"If that’s all…"
His team stood. He didn’t move.
They exchanged looks before bodyguard two spoke.
"Sir, I think we’re ready to leave."
His gaze stayed locked on you. "I have one more matter to discuss with her. You can go. I’ll find my way when I’m done here."
A look of pure panic flickered across their faces.
You almost laughed.
"Are you sure about that?"
He finally looked at them and smiled. "I’m sure."
They were gone for ten minutes before he stood and began shutting the blinds.
Your breath came in shallow gasps as you watched him move.
The fluid stretch of his long limbs, the way his T-shirt clung to the muscles of his back.
When he finally rounded your desk, your eyes blurred with tears of arousal.
"This is my office," you rasped when he wheeled your chair out to face him.
"So?" He dropped to his knees in front of you.
"You can’t—" Your words broke when he pushed your skirt up your thighs, your body lifting automatically to help him shove it higher onto your hips.
"I can’t what?" He breathed the words against your lips before claiming them in a kiss that melted the last of your anger away.
You mewled into his mouth, your hand tenderly cupping his jaw as you kissed him back.
He broke away just long enough to murmur against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours. "I didn’t kiss her. I was signing her photo when she leaned in. The video was cropped to show only the kiss, not the part where I pulled away."
You ran your fingers through his curls, nipping his bottom lip. "I know. It still annoyed me to see another woman kissing you."
He grinned. "I love it when you get jealous."
Before you could reply, he grabbed your thighs and threw them over the armrests of your chair, yanking your hips forward until you were completely spread for him. His head lowered, eyes locked on your center, dark with lust.
You followed his gaze and saw the obscene sight. Your panties were soaked, the damp fabric clinging to your swollen lips.
He leaned in and sucked on the wet patch. You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep in the sounds that could carry through the office walls and cost you your job.
You felt the scrape of his teeth, then the sharp rip of fabric.
His mouth returned to you in a fierce assault, lips and tongue devouring your heat. You pressed both hands to your mouth, stifling every muffled cry as his hands fisted beneath your skirt, ripping the last of your panties off. He stuffed the torn fabric between your lips, gagging you, then buried himself against your sex again.
You moaned into the gag, grateful to have your hands free to fist them in his hair and grind his face harder against your core.
You rode his mouth shamelessly, hips bucking, the edge of your chair biting into your thighs as you gasped into the gag. Your head fell back, cries swallowed by the fabric between your lips.
A vivid image flashed behind your closed eyes: the door to your office swinging open. An executive standing frozen, staring at the scene—your top client on his knees, ravishing your pussy, your hands tangled in his hair, your legs spread wide over your chair’s armrests while you fucked yourself against his face.
The filthy thought tipped you over the edge. You shattered with a scream trapped in your throat, your release soaking his face as he licked and rubbed into you until your body went slack.
You slumped back into your chair, trembling, while he wiped his face with his discarded jacket. Then he pulled your limp legs forward and wrapped his arms around you.
Before you could register his intent, he bent you face down over your desk, his dick nudging at your entrance from behind.
He plunged into you in one hard stroke, and your eyes rolled back.
Three deep thrusts in, your desk phone rang.
He leaned over you with a wicked grin, tugged the gag from your mouth, and pressed the button for you.
You cleared your throat. "Hello?"
"Hey. How did it go with him?"
"I have everything under control, sir."
He pushed deeper, forcing you to swallow a sob.
"Oh, okay. You’re doing a really good job with him. I know how stubborn he can be. How do you manage to get him to do anything?"
He began a rhythm of short, quick thrusts that had you biting your lip, your nails digging into the desk for balance.
"Hello? You there?"
"Yes, sir," you managed, voice trembling. "I do my best."
"Keep doing what you’re doing! I’ll leave you to it."
The call clicked off.
The moment it did, he drove into you hard, pulling one arm behind your back while the other pinned you down flat against the desk. His hips snapped furiously against you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.
He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. "I’m glad we have your boss’s blessing."
A breathless laugh slipped from you between gasps. If only they knew.
