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"Are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?" you ask pointedly, looking over the boardroom table at the CEO. You school your features carefully in order to convey just the right amounts of professionalism and exasperation.

"No," he says, toying with his pen, his cobalt eyes thoughtful. "I'm wondering what your skin might taste like."

Ready to deliver the mild chastisement you had next prepared, your words catch in your throat. Surely he didn't just say what you thought you heard. You've misunderstood. "I...I...beg your pardon?" you stammer.

He lays down the pen and draws away the long dark hair from beside his neck.

"Just here," he says, stroking his collarbone with a slender finger, his eyes never leaving you. Without thinking, you glance down at your own shoulder, realizing that the blouse you are wearing provides a perfect view of the area he has indicated. Then your eyes return to follow his hand's movements.

You form and discard several responses, your face colouring as you consider all of the implications of his comments and you stand, mesmerized by the sensual nature of his actions. Finally, the perfect reply comes to mind and you rise to move around the table, slowly sitting in the chair next to his.

"Well, seeing as we called this meeting to discuss the feasibility of expanding the R & D department, I can assert that research into any unknown quantity having to do with the Corporation can only benefit its employees and stockholders." There, that got you out of this if you'd completely misread his intentions and tossed you right into his lap if you hadn't.

The sculpted hands that had previously been driving you crazy with their erotic movements on their owner, now reach for you and deftly undo the buttons on your blouse below the open one at your throat.

Xanatos seems almost surprised as, instead of trembling and shrinking back, you relax back in the chair, draping your hands on the armrests to allow him easier access to your body. He smiles rakishly, showing small, sharp white teeth and lowers himself to the floor, resting on his knees in front of your chair. He runs his hands along your skirted thighs.

You drop the papers and pull open your blouse, revealing a white lace bra. Then you ever so gently reach out and run your fingers through the hair along his temples, fisting it in your hands. You smile at the sound he makes.

He suddenly leans forward with a sultry groan and buries his face between your breasts, sliding his arms up and around you, pulling you towards him. His breath is warm and moist against your skin and you lean over him, resting your cheek against the top of his head. Your hands release his hair and you wrap your arms around his narrow shoulders.

You inhale deeply as you feel Xanatos' hands slide along your back under the soft fabric of your blouse, and true to his word, his mouth opens along the skin above your breast. A hot tongue snakes along your collarbone, and you exhale just as deeply.

You raise your head and he, too, looks up, your eyes meeting. He moves his hands forward around your torso and across your breasts in a slow circle, as if wanting to memorize ever contour of the material and the flesh it holds. His eyes refocus on your breasts, his lashes appearing as delicate arcs against the paleness of his skin. You slowly reach out and trace the small scar along his right cheekbone, and he turns his face up to yours. Afraid that you may have upset him, reminded him of a painful memory, you lean down and press your lips against the healed wound.

His demeanor appears to change. Whereas before, he seemed to be Mr. Charming, the man you now hold in your arms feels more like an insecure boy, wanting approval and acceptance. You had perceived that there was a vulnerability lurking under that charismatic façade, and you are somehow proud of yourself that you were able to foster an environment where he felt at ease enough to allow some of his true nature to emerge.

Slowly you move your mouth to his, pressing kisses along his face as you go. Your first kiss is soft, brief, almost chaste. Then your hands find his hair again and you grab a handful of it, at the same time pressing your lips more vehemently against his. Your actions elicit another sensuous moan from Xanatos, and you take this as an invitation to slide your tongue into his mouth and allow yourself a closer, more tactile study of those marvelous teeth.

His fingers find the clasp at the front of your bra and undo it, his mouth still moving so sweetly under yours. Warm hands move over your breasts, palms flat, gently smoothing across your heated skin. His mouth leaves yours and moves to meet his hands. You sigh and once again lean back in the chair, your fingers toying with the black stands of soft hair in their grasp.

Xanatos' study of your breasts seems to absorb his entire powers of concentration. He leaves no part of them untouched, unkissed. Your nipples have hardened from his caresses, and he appears fascinated by this. You smile indulgently, letting him play, while your hands find his shoulders and just hang on.

At length, his hands move down your torso and along your thighs to your knees. Again, the shy glance up into your face through the hair falling coquettishly into his eyes as he slowly slides his delicate hands back up your thighs, this time venturing under the fabric of your skirt. Goose bumps appear across your exposed skin, as Xanatos' fingertips gently bite into your flesh.

He once more lowers his glance, intent on his actions. You untangle your hands from the mane of hair and reach under your skirt to place your hands gently atop his. He looks up again. Has he gone too far? You smile down at him in reassurance as you move his fingers around the top of your panties. Raising yourself gently from the chair, you slowly pull them down your legs, until you carefully step out of them. Your shoes follow. He once again moves to reach for your legs, but instead, you abandon your chair and sink to your knees on the floor in front of him.

The time for leisurely exploration has ended. You simply reach out your hand and press it with purpose against the front of his leather trousers, rubbing the bulge that that had appeared there from the moment he began unbuttoning your blouse. Your desire is infectious, and Xanatos quickly moves to unfasten the buttons that restrain him. His trousers are quickly undone and your hand snakes in to wrap itself around his hardened penis. The childlike wonder disappears from his countenance and he reaches around your face with both hands and kisses you forcefully and repeatedly, moaning in time with the teasing of your hand on him.

You pull your face away suddenly, your hand retreating from his erection and slowly and enticingly draw the blouse from your shoulders. His hands have released your face; one to graze lightly across your swollen nipples and the other to resume the ministrations on his cock, which you have temporarily abandoned. The blouse comes off, and the bra follows it. You reach back for the blouse however, enjoying the complimentary feel of fabric and flesh. Your pulse rate has steadily climbed and a thin sheen of perspiration now covers your body.

The image of him pleasuring himself is almost too much for you and you let out a growl, being far less considerate of his clothing, as you tear the thin white shirt from his torso, buttons flying in all directions. With reckless abandon and a passionate groan, you clutch at his shoulders and pull him to you, toppling over onto the pile of papers you had dropped earlier. One hand supporting himself above you and the other still wrapped around his length, he kisses you feverishly and everywhere he can reach; your eyelids, your cheeks, your throat.

Mumbling his name over and over into his face, you reach an arm down to the hem of your skirt and yank it up as far as you can. He grinds into you as you wrap your legs around his hips. You attempt to slow your panting breaths, attempt to calm yourself, to savour this moment. Your hand snakes between your bodies, and once again comes to rest on his. You gently squeeze his fingers. His lips leave your face and he looks down at you, his hair falling across your cheeks and shoulders. The he smiles, an almost mischievous look in his eyes, and you smile back.

"Ahhnngg," you both sigh into each other's mouths as he presses into you.

Bliss- no office, no work, no reports. Just flesh against flesh and, hot breath mingling with hot breath. You spend a few moments gazing at one another. Xanatos slowly leans down and kisses you, smiling as you tighten your muscles around him. You both begin to move slowly together, your smiles still plastered across your faces, sensation becoming your method of shared communication. You tighten your legs around his narrow hips, enjoying the feeling of his nearly smooth chest slick against your breasts. His mouth finds your throat, your tongue finds his ear. And the sensations radiating along your spine and outward are warm and sensuous.

Again, a change in manner. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he rolls over onto his back, pulling you up and on top of him. The change in position accentuates the movements between the flesh where you are joined and you gasp in pleasure. Not satisfied to be this distant, you grab at his shoulders, hauling him into a sitting position, as your knees fall to either side of his hips, embedding his erection deeper into you. Your skirt has become a tangle of fabric around your waist, your shirt wrapped around your shoulders and arms, exposing that part of your skin Xanatos is still so eager to taste.

You rock back and forth, your intensity increasing, his breath now coming out in short gratified pants against your neck. One arm reaches behind him to support himself as he leans back. You grab his other hand and place it between your bodies. His fingers stroke the exposed sensitized flesh between your legs and you arch your back, the pleasure building between you.

You press forward toward him, increasing the friction of his fingers and cock, until, in a rush, an explosion of sensation erupts from the centre of your being, radiating out to the farthest reaches of your body.

Blindly, you grab at his hair, yanking on it hard. The combination of pleasure and pain that he must feel seems to be his undoing, and he comes, clutching you in his arms almost painfully. For a long moment, you both sit like this, panting and rocking, holding one another. Then, as his breathing deepens, Xanatos lies back down, pulling you along his body, still inside you. You lie like this for several minutes, he lazily tracing patterns on your back over your blouse, you smoothing the hair from around his face and once again, kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his scar.

Your eyes drift to the floor on which you lie, coming to rest on the papers scattered beneath your entwined bodies. You reach for one of them and look down at Offworld's CEO.

"Can I assume I now have your full attention?"

End