As Emily arched her back in pleasure, her hand moved to her chest, cupping her own bosom. She stared at the ceiling, her mind spinning with desire, fear, and a desperate need for validation.
I want to give you my whole self.
Even if this is wrong… please forgive me.
I'm scared.
I'm scared of her.
Scared of your PA… Hazel.
The thought of Hazel hit harder with every movement. The fear of not being enough... of being replaced... tightened around her chest like a vice.
Emily moved faster, deeper, riding her rising emotion. She leaned over Francisco, breathless, and gasped his name.
"Francisco…"
At last, he opened his eyes. He looked up at her in silence as she tried to meet his gaze with desire.
"I want to make you feel good, love," she whispered, voice thick with longing.
Francisco studied her, his eyes sharp. "Can you?" he asked. "Do you have what it takes?"
But Hazel still filled his thoughts. No matter how close Emily got, she couldn't reach where Hazel already lived in his mind.
Still, Emily nodded, panting. "Please… hold my hands."
She stretched her arms out. Francisco took her hands, slowly. She guided one to her chest and pressed it there.
Her voice softened, pleading. "Please…"
Francisco didn't respond with words. He looked at her... expression unreadable, distant... then tightened his grip on her bosom. Not tender. Not cruel. Just firm. Almost mechanical.
Emily bit her lip hard and shut her eyes. His touch hurt a little, but it stirred something inside her. Pain mixed with pleasure. And even if he wasn't fully with her, it was enough.
Francisco's eyes were fixed on her face, but for a fleeting moment, his mind drifted.
What if it was Hazel?
Just the thought of her shifted something inside him. With Hazel in his head, Francisco arched his brows and squeezed Emily's bosom harder.
Emily, caught between pain and pleasure, moaned.
"Yes!"
She gasped, that single word capturing the storm of emotion inside her.
Francisco's control slipped. Hazel consumed his thoughts. He closed his eyes, hands moving with a force not entirely his own. He gripped and played with Emily's breasts and buds, harder, rougher.
Emily moaned louder, swept up in the heat and intensity.
But Francisco wasn't truly there. Hazel's green eyes, soft pink lips, and every perfect detail clouded his mind. The contrast between the physical presence of Emily and the imagined presence of Hazel tore through him.
Suddenly, he clenched his teeth and sat up, releasing Emily's chest. His hands slid to her waist, gripping her tightly. Emily became startled.
Before she could speak, he lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder, spreading her open.
Understanding his urgency, Emily gripped the edge of the bed, eyes closed, bracing for what was coming.
Francisco moved with power, each thrust shaking the bed beneath them. Emily gasped, the pleasure so intense it blurred everything else.
Still, Francisco wrestled with Hazel's image in his mind. He couldn't contain himself and let out a loud curse as he reached his climax.
For those 15 minutes of passionate rumbling, Emily felt as if she were in a heavenly trance.
In the aftermath of their intense encounter, both Francisco and Emily lay breathless.
Francisco, cold and detached, quickly pulled away. He moved her leg as if discarding something useless.
Emily, still gasping and trembling, struggled to compose herself. Her legs quivered beneath her. The echoes of pleasure still pulsed through her, leaving her body weak and scattered.
She tried to speak. "Francisco, can I..."
"Get out," he said sharply, cutting her off.
She lowered her gaze. She already knew—he would never let her stay.
In silence, she gathered her clothes. Without dignity, she walked out of his room, still naked.
Pain throbbed through her body. The spots where he had gripped her wrists and thighs were already turning black and blue. Her face was blank... until a slow, eerie smile crept across it. She looked down at her open palm.
A needle.
She had done what she came to do.
A sense of victory bloomed in her chest as she walked away. She moved calmly, almost proudly, heading to her room—her temporary refuge from the chaos she'd just left behind.
Inside the washroom, Emily glanced at the toilet. Without hesitation, she dropped the needle in and flushed. The evidence disappeared with a quiet swirl.
She stepped into the shower. Warm water poured over her, washing away the night but not her thoughts.
Francisco!
He filled every corner of her mind.
As her fingers trailed over her skin, the bruises a stark reminder of what had happened, her heart ached for something deeper... something real.
Francisco, when will I get to kiss your lips?
I know you imagined her.
You thought I was Hazel.
Does that mean you're in love with her?
With teary eyes she bit her lips, looking down at the water.