The warehouse was cold, concrete echoing every breath, but the heat in Marcuss eyes burned hotter than any furnace. Lena stood frozen, wrists already bound behind her with rough rope that bit into her skin. She had come for a late-night inventory check, not this. Not the broad-shouldered man who had locked the door and pushed her against the metal shelving with a single, effortless shove.
On your knees, he ordered, voice low and final.
Lena shook her head, but her legs betrayed her, folding until the hard floor pressed against her shins. Marcus stepped closer, the heavy denim of his jeans brushing her cheek. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the leather whispering through the loops. Her pulse hammered in her throat.
Open, he said.
She pressed her lips together. He didnt raise his voice. He simply gripped her hair at the roots and tilted her head back until her eyes watered. The blunt head of his cock brushed her closed mouth, already thick and hot. He dragged it across her lips, leaving a slick trail.
Fight if you want, he murmured. It wont change what happens.
Her lips parted on a shaky breath. Marcus pushed forward, sliding past her teeth in one steady thrust. The taste of him flooded her tonguesalt, skin, the faint trace of sweat from hours of work. He didnt stop until the head nudged the back of her throat. Lena gagged, eyes squeezing shut, but his hand stayed firm in her hair, holding her in place.
He began to move. Not fast. Deep, measured strokes that forced her to take every inch. Each time he withdrew, saliva spilled from the corner of her mouth and dripped onto her blouse. Each time he pushed back in, her throat fluttered around him. The wet, obscene sound of her mouth being used filled the empty space.
Tears tracked down her cheeks, yet heat coiled low in her belly. She hated how her body respondedthe tightening nipples, the clench between her thighs. Marcus noticed. He smiled, a dark curve of his mouth.
Swallow around it, he told her. Show me you can learn.
She tried. The muscles of her throat worked, squeezing him, and he groaned, the sound rough and approving. His hips snapped forward harder. Now the rhythm turned relentless. He fucked her mouth with the same focused intensity he might use to break down a doorpowerful, unyielding, inevitable.
Lenas jaw ached. Drool soaked the front of her shirt. Every time she tried to pull back, his grip tightened, reminding her who controlled the pace. He used her mouth like it belonged to him, like her only purpose was to take what he gave.
When his breathing grew ragged, he pulled out just far enough to let her gasp for air, then drove back in. The head of his cock pulsed against her tongue. He came with a low, guttural sound, flooding her mouth in thick pulses. She had no choice but to swallow, throat working again and again until he finally eased back.
Marcus didnt release her hair right away. He watched her lick the last traces from her lips, eyes glassy, chest heaving. Only then did he tuck himself away and crouch so they were eye level.
Next time youll beg for it, he said quietly.
Lena didnt answer. She couldnt. Her mouth was swollen, her body trembling, and the ache between her legs pulsed with every heartbeat. Marcus untied her wrists, rubbed the red marks with his thumbs, then helped her stand. The warehouse door clicked open behind them.
She walked out into the night on unsteady legs, the taste of him still heavy on her tongue, already wondering how soon next time would arrive.
