Of course

You seized her by the throat—pulse hammering against your palm—and slammed her back against the door. Wood shuddered. You crushed your mouth to hers; teeth clashed, tongues fought, copper tang of blood blooming as she bit your lip hard.

“That all?” she gasped, breath hot with mint and defiance.

You dropped her to her knees on threadbare carpet. Belt buckle rasped; your cock sprang into cool air. She swallowed it in one brutal gulp—throat convulsing, wet heat searing. Nails raked your thighs, leaving stinging trails. You fisted her blonde hair—silk between knuckles—and skull-fucked her until mascara streaked black rivers down flushed cheeks, spit dripping in glossy strands onto the floor. She gagged, raw and guttural, but hummed low, vibration rattling your spine like a live wire.

“Still think I’m soft?” you growled.

“Prove you’re not,” she rasped around your shaft.

You yanked her up by the roots of her hair; she gasped, lips swollen and shining. Spun her. Slammed her chest-first onto the oak desk—papers fluttered like startled birds, a coffee mug clattered and shattered. The scent of spilled espresso mixed with her perfume, something sharp and floral. You shredded her skirt up to her waist, the fabric tearing with a satisfying rip. Black lace thong—already soaked—snapped like a whip when you tore it free; the elastic stung your wrist. Her pussy glistened, swollen lips flushed dark, dripping onto the polished wood. You drove three fingers inside without warning; she screamed, a jagged sound that scraped the air, hips bucking as scalding wetness coated your hand, the slick squelch obscene. One savage thrust and your cock replaced fingers, stretching her wide, her walls fluttering in protest and greedy welcome. You buried yourself to the root, the slap of skin on skin deafening. You set a merciless pace—hips pistoning, balls smacking her clit with wet, rhythmic thuds. The desk skidded inches across the floor, legs screeching. She clawed the surface, nails gouging varnish, shrieking your name until her voice cracked. You gripped her throat from behind, arching her spine until her back bowed like a drawn bowstring, and bit down on her shoulder—salt and sweat, the faint metallic bite of skin breaking under teeth. She came violently, pussy clamping like a vise, a hot gush squirting down your shaft and thighs, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. The sight shattered you; you roared, slamming deep one last time and flooded her with pulse after pulse of thick, scalding cum, hips jerking as you emptied every drop, the wet heat of her milking you dry.“Beg,” you ordered.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” she shot back.

You drove three fingers inside without warning; she screamed, jagged, hips bucking as scalding wetness coated your hand, slick squelch obscene. One savage thrust and your cock replaced fingers, stretching her wide, walls fluttering in protest and greedy welcome. You buried to the root, skin-slap deafening. You set a merciless pace—hips pistoning, balls smacking her clit with wet, rhythmic thuds. Desk skidded, legs screeching. She clawed the surface, nails gouging varnish, shrieking your name until her voice cracked.

“Harder, you bastard!”

You gripped her throat from behind, arching her spine like a drawn bowstring, and bit her shoulder—salt, sweat, faint metallic bite of skin breaking. She came violently, pussy clamping like a vise, hot gush squirting down your shaft and thighs, her scent thick in the air. The sight shattered you; you roared, slamming deep one last time and flooded her with pulse after pulse of thick, scalding cum, hips jerking as you emptied every drop, her walls milking you dry.

You pulled out with a slick pop, watched your seed drip in slow, pearly ropes down trembling thighs onto ruined carpet, then zipped up, rasp loud in sudden quiet.

"Be be my secretary. You’ll run this town from the shadows.”

She turned, lips swollen and glistening, eyes blazing. Licked a stray drop from the corner of her mouth—slow, deliberate. “Deal.”

The rest is history.