The Return of the Boss Who Claimed the Office

—What did I tell you about wearing a bra? —The hoarse voice came from behind her, unmistakable, and Mariela knew at once who it belonged to.

She froze, her fingers suspended over the keyboard. Before she could turn her chair, two large, confident hands closed over her breasts over the satin blouse. His thumbs found her nipples, already hardened, pressing unmistakably against the thin fabric.

—Mr. Vidal… —she whispered, her voice breaking with surprise and with a shiver that ran all the way down her spine.

Esteban leaned over her shoulder, his warm breath against her ear.

—I made it very clear a long time ago. In this office it isn’t necessary. Never. —His hands squeezed with an almost painful possessiveness—. And I can see you’ve been an obedient employee… with the new one. But with me, the old rules are back.

Mariela closed her eyes for a moment. Her body responded to the touch before her mind did, as if the last few weeks had been a strange interlude. The real boss had returned and was reclaiming what he had always considered his by right.

Esteban released her breasts only to turn her decisively by the shoulders. He looked her up and down with that slow smile she remembered far too well.

—You look splendid. More than ever. —His gaze lingered on her cleavage, dropped to the curve of her hips, and returned to her face—. And I see you’ve managed to keep the office… running.

Before Mariela could answer, the door to the back office—the one Esteban had used during his leave—opened.

Damián came out holding a folder, talking to himself.

—Mariela, I need the account report for… —He stopped dead when he saw them. Esteban was still standing by her desk, one hand resting naturally on her hip.

The color drained from Damián’s face in an instant.

—Mr. V… Vidal —he stammered, his voice barely a thread—. I didn’t know you were coming back today. The doctor said at least…

—Doctors talk a lot and understand very little about business —Esteban cut in, without taking his eyes off Mariela—. I’m here now. And I think it’s time you went back to your old desk, Damián. The one at the end of the corridor, the auditing desk. Do you remember it?

Damián blinked several times, as if the words still didn’t quite fit together.

—But… the meeting this afternoon with the supplier…

—I’ll handle the meeting —Esteban said, curtly, without raising his voice—. You and I will talk later. Calmly. Now, if you don’t mind…

Damián looked at Mariela. There was something in his eyes: disappointment, resignation, and a flash of jealousy he had never shown so openly.

—Of course, Mr. Vidal —he murmured at last, lowering his head—. I’ll move right away.

He turned and walked off down the corridor with slow steps, the folder clutched to his chest as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. When the back door closed with a soft click, Esteban let out a low, satisfied laugh.

—Poor thing. I think he got too used to his new privileges.

He turned to her, lifted her chin with two fingers, and held her gaze.

—Now we’re alone. And I’ve been counting the days for five weeks.

Without giving her time to answer, he took her by the waist and sat her on top of his own desk as if she weighed nothing. He spread her knees firmly apart. Her skirt wrinkled at the hip, revealing that—as always whenever she expected his return—she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Esteban unbuckled his belt with deliberate calm, savoring the wait as much as she did.

—First you get me hard with that mouth of yours —he said, sinking his fingers into her hair and guiding her head downward—. Five weeks without it. That’s not easily forgiven.

Mariela didn’t hesitate. She took him into her mouth slowly, sucking hard while her tongue traced lazy circles. Esteban gave a deep groan and his fingers closed in her hair.

—Like that… —he panted, nudging his hips slightly—. You’ve kept practicing, huh? I can tell.

She answered with a muffled sound, sucking with even more devotion, letting him set the pace as he pleased. He let her go for a couple of minutes, lost in the wet heat of her mouth, before pulling her away with a soft but firm tug.

—Enough. Now I want the rest.

He laid her back on the wood, lifted her legs until they rested on his shoulders, and positioned himself between them. He rubbed the tip against her, already hot and slick.

—Look at me —he ordered.

Mariela opened her eyes and met that intense gaze that always made her tremble. Esteban pushed in all at once, all the way. A long moan slipped from her, her legs shaking on his shoulders.

—You’re still just as tight… —he growled, beginning with slow, deep thrusts—. Tell me, how did you relieve Señor Sorré’s stress all these weeks?

Mariela panted, trying to hold onto her voice while he drove into her without pause.

—At first… just coffee in the mornings —she began, brokenly—. Then… with my mouth. Several days. I knelt behind his desk… he held my hair and finished like that… and then he apologized, almost embarrassed… but the next day he came back.

Esteban quickened, his hands returning to her breasts, kneading them through the fabric.

—Go on —he ordered.

—After that… —she moaned when he thrust especially deep— he wanted more. Just once. It was yesterday. He bent me over my own desk, lifted my skirt, and took me from behind… without warning. He said he’d been thinking about it for weeks. And then… he apologized again.

Esteban let out a hoarse laugh.

—Just once? What a waste. —He shoved harder, making the desk creak—. And you? Did you finish with him?

Mariela nodded, almost breathless.

—Yes… when he came very deep and held me at the same time… it was intense.

Esteban growled with pleasure, his thrusts turning rougher.

—Good girl. I’m glad you didn’t get rusty. But now —he leaned over her, his mouth brushing hers as he kept moving— it’s my turn to remind you who your main client is.

His hands tightened, his thumbs rubbing relentlessly. With one last push he buried himself to the hilt and emptied inside her, roaring her name through clenched teeth. Mariela trembled beneath him, her own orgasm bursting at the same time, her legs closing around his neck.

When he finally stopped, he remained for a moment longer, breathing against her neck, before slowly pulling out. He gave her a possessive kiss on the lips.

—Welcome back to normal —he whispered—. From now on, the rules are mine again.

Mariela, panting and still trembling, could only nod. She knew he was right. The boss had returned, and the office had just gotten its order back.

***

It was almost five when Esteban opened the door to his office and called to her with that deep voice that always tied her stomach in knots.

—Mariela… come in for a moment. I need you to take a little tension off me before I clock out.

She got up at once, smoothing her black skirt with hands that trembled with anticipation. She closed the door behind her and walked to the desk, where he was already reclined in his leather chair, legs spread and trousers unbuttoned, waiting.

—With your mouth first —he said without preamble, indicating the floor between his legs—. Five weeks builds up a lot, you know.

Mariela knelt on the carpet, rested her hands on his thighs, and lifted her gaze, waiting for permission.

—Go ahead —he granted, leaning back a little more—. Slowly at first. I want to feel every second.

She leaned in. First a soft kiss, almost reverent. Then she parted her lips and took him in, hot and heavy against her tongue. Esteban groaned when she began to suck slowly, letting the wetness slide.

—Like that… use more tongue —he murmured, his hand on her nape, still not gripping—. I want to feel it everywhere.

Mariela obeyed. She licked him from base to tip in one long stroke, tracing every vein, and took him again, this time deeper. He groaned louder and closed his fingers in her hair.

—More… —he asked, nudging his hips slightly—. I want you to take me all the way.

She relaxed her throat and let him in until her lips touched the base. Tears filled her eyes from the effort, but she didn’t pull away. Esteban began moving his hips with controlled thrusts, enjoying the heat and the wet sound.

—That mouth of yours is the best therapy there is —he panted—. The withdrawal nearly kills me more than the heart scare itself.

He let her continue for long minutes, alternating the rhythm: sometimes slow and deep, sometimes fast, her tongue circling every time she withdrew. He breathed heavier and heavier, the muscles in his thighs tense beneath her hands.

—Enough —he said at last, gently pulling her away—. Now I want something else. Stand up.

Mariela got to her feet, her lips swollen and shining. Esteban stood, turned her decisively, and bent her over the desk. He lifted her skirt to her waist.

—Nothing underneath… good girl —he murmured, running his hand over the curve of her ass—. But today I’m not going in front. Today I want to relax another way.

Mariela felt a shiver and nodded, resting her forearms on the wood.

—Whatever you need, Mr. Vidal —she whispered—. So you can relax.

He positioned himself behind her. He wet his palm well, prepared himself, and pressed the tip against the tightest entrance.

—Take a deep breath —he said, his voice rough—. I’m going in slowly… but all the way.

She inhaled deeply. Esteban pushed. The pressure opened her centimeter by centimeter and Mariela let out a long, trembling moan, a mix of discomfort and intense pleasure. He stopped just past the first obstacle, letting her adjust.

—So tight… —he growled, hands firm on her hips—. Relax. Let me in.

Mariela exhaled slowly, loosening her muscles. Esteban moved forward again, deeper. The sensation was overwhelming: the pressure, the stretching, the heat filling her in a different way. When he was finally all the way inside, they both moaned at once.

—This… this is therapy —he panted, still for a few seconds.

He started moving, first slowly, coming almost all the way out and returning carefully, letting her adjust. Each thrust drew a low groan from him and a sharp gasp from her.

—Tell me… —he said, gradually speeding up—. Do you like it like this?

Mariela pressed her forehead to the wood, fingers gripping the edge.

—Yes… —she admitted between moans—. It’s intense… it fills me so much… it makes me feel completely surrendered.

Esteban groaned in satisfaction and increased the pace. His hips struck hers with a dry, rhythmic sound. Each thrust made her breasts brush the cold desk.

—Harder… —she asked without thinking, lost—. Please… empty everything out.

He obeyed. He grabbed her harder and began to pound into her without mercy. The desk shook. Mariela moaned uncontrollably, her legs weak.

—You like pleasing me, don’t you? —Esteban panted, leaning down to take her breasts over the blouse.

—Yes… I want you to feel good —she panted, pushing back to meet every thrust—. So you can relax… so nothing happens to you again.

Esteban gave a hoarse laugh between pants.

—That’s my girl.

His movements turned erratic, faster, more urgent. Sweat ran down his forehead. Mariela felt every centimeter, the burning friction, the pressure pushing her to the edge again and again.

—I’m going to finish… —he announced, his voice breaking—. Right here. To get rid of everything that’s built up.

—Do it… —she begged—. Please.

With one final thrust he buried himself to the hilt and exploded. Heat flooded her from within while he roared her name, his hands dug into her hips with such force they would leave marks. Mariela trembled violently, her own orgasm bursting from the deepest part of her.

They stayed like that for long seconds, panting, pressed against each other. Esteban was the first to move, withdrawing slowly.

—Good job —he murmured, giving her a soft smack—. The stress is almost gone.

He leaned in and gave her a slow kiss on the nape.

—Tomorrow we continue —he whispered—. And I want you ready for everything.

Mariela, still trembling over the desk, her legs weak, could only nod.

—Yes, Mr. Vidal… whatever you need.

Esteban smiled, satisfied, and sat back down in his chair, leaving her to recover little by little. From that moment on, the balance of power had returned exactly to the place where, according to him, it had always belonged.