The stinging scent of industrial cleaner mixed with the low hum of servers was Zarina’s new reality. For three agonizing weeks, it had been nothing but fetching coffee, enduring the dismissive snaps of senior analysts, and being utterly invisible to the man at the top. But today, the sharp click of her heels on the polished concrete floor of the executive suite was a declaration of war. She was done.She didn’t bother knocking. The heavy oak door to the CEO’s office swung open under her determined push.Dimitri Volkov didn’t look up from his monitor, his voice a glacier-calving monotone. “I do not recall scheduling an interruption.”“Then schedule this,” Zarina said, her voice trembling not with fear, but with a fury that had been simmering for days. She marched to the immense glass desk, her curvy frame a defiant contrast to the sterile, minimalist room. “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”That got his attention. His head lifted slowly, those icy blue eyes, the ones that had haunted her sleepless nights with their cold indifference, now pinned her to the spot. A muscle ticked in his jaw. God, he was beautiful. And utterly terrifying.“Ms. Soriano,” he said, her name a low caress that felt completely at odds with his expression. “Is there a problem a competent HR representative could not handle?”“The problem,” she bit out, leaning her palms on his desk, “is you. Your contempt. Your constant, demeaning scrutiny. You treat everyone like malfunctioning software, but you’ve been especially cruel to me. I will not be your office pariah any longer.”For a long moment, he was silent, his gaze dropping from her flashing eyes to the way her blouse strained slightly over her full breasts with each angry breath. The air crackled. Then, a transformation so subtle she almost missed it. The rigid CEO mask didn’t so much crack as it melted. The cold arrogance in his eyes bled away, replaced by a heat so intense it stole the air from her lungs. A slow, devastating smile touched his lips.“You really don’t remember me at all, do you, Zarina?” he murmured, his voice now a rough, intimate baritone that vibrated deep in her core.She froze. Remember him? Her mind raced, scrambling over childhood memories buried under years of loss and struggle. A shy, overweight boy. Tear-filled eyes behind thick glasses. Bullies in a dusty schoolyard. Her, small but fierce, standing between them.“The oak tree behind the old community center,” he prompted, rising from his chair with a predator’s grace. He came around the desk, his powerful frame dominating the space, yet his movements were suddenly gentle. “You shoved Leo Markov into the dirt for calling me ‘Dimitri the Dumptruck’.”Her hand flew to her mouth. “Dimitri? Little Dimitri?” The name was a disbelieving whisper. The boy she’d protected. The boy she’d secretly had a crush on before her grandmother moved them away. This chiseled god of a man was him?“Not so little anymore,” he said, now standing mere inches from her. The cold CEO was gone, and in his place was a man gazing at her with a raw, hungry tenderness that made her knees weak. “Every single pound I lost, every muscle I built, every late night at the gym… it was for this. For the moment I could be strong enough. For you.”“All this… the job… the coldness…” she stammered, her world tilting on its axis.“A test,” he confessed, his hand lifting to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked her skin, a shocking brand of heat. “I had to be sure the kindness wasn’t just a childhood memory. I had to see the woman you became. And god, Zarina… you are so much more.” His eyes darkened with a possessive fire. “All I’ve done is watch you. Want you. Burn for you.”Any thought of resignation, of anger, evaporated. The office, the company, the world outside this room ceased to exist. There was only his heat, his confession, and the decadent, pooling need between her thighs.He saw the surrender in her eyes. With a low groan that was pure want, he closed the final distance. His mouth crashed down on hers.It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a reclamation. A decade of longing poured into the desperate slide of his lips against hers. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting of dark coffee and pure, unadulterated need. Zarina moaned, her body going pliant against his, her hands tangling in the immaculate silk of his hair. He kissed her like a man dying of thirst, and she was his only source of water.His hands were everywhere at once, learning her, claiming her. One tangled in her hair, angling her head for a deeper kiss, while the other slid down her back, over the curve of her hip, squeezing the generous flesh of her backside with a guttural sound of approval. “So perfect. So soft for me.”He walked her backward until the edge of his desk dug into her thighs. With a single, powerful sweep of his arm, he cleared the surface, sending tablets and papers crashing to the floor. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, setting her down on the cool glass. He stepped between her legs, his erection a hard, insistent pressure against the damp apex of her thighs, even through their clothes.“I have dreamed of this,” he growled against her neck, his teeth scraping lightly over her pulse point before his tongue soothed the spot. His fingers made quick, urgent work of the buttons on her blouse. “Dreamed of tasting every single inch of the angel who saved me.”The blouse fell open. His breath hitched as he saw her simple lace bra, the full breasts swelling over the top. “Dios mío,” he breathed, reverent. He bent his head, his mouth closing over the lace, sucking the stiff peak of her nipple through the fabric. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure pleasure that made her back arch off the desk with a sharp cry.He chuckled, a dark, sensual sound, and made quick work of the front clasp. Her breasts spilled into his hands, and the look of raw worship on his face stole her breath. “Even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured before his mouth descended on her bare skin.He lavished attention on each breast, sucking, licking, nipping with a controlled ferocity that had her writhing, her fingers clutching at his broad shoulders. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle bite, was a brand, a promise. He worshiped her curves with a fervor that spoke of years of pent-up desire, his hands kneading her softness as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever touched.His mouth left a wet, heated trail down her stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her skirt and panties. In one fluid motion, he stripped them from her, leaving her completely bare and exposed on his desk, under the stark office lights. She should have felt vulnerable. She felt empowered.He dropped to his knees before her, his hands spreading her thighs. His heated gaze fixed on the very core of her, and the air left his lungs in a shuddering sigh. “You’re dripping for me, solnyshko.”And then his mouth was on her.The first swipe of his tongue was a revelation. It was slow, deliberate, parting her folds to lave at her very center. Zarina’s head fell back, a broken sob escaping her lips. He held her hips firmly, anchoring her as he feasted on her. He explored her with an artist’s devotion, learning what made her gasp, what made her thighs tremble, what made her chant his name like a prayer.His tongue circled her clit with agonizing slowness before sucking the sensitive bud firmly into the heat of his mouth. Her hips bucked off the desk, but his grip was iron, holding her right there for his pleasure. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them, finding a spot deep within that made her see stars. The dual sensation was overwhelming—the relentless, skilled suction of his mouth and the deep, filling thrust of his fingers.“Dimitri… please… I can’t…” she begged, her body coiling tighter and tighter, a spring about to snap.He increased the pressure, his rhythm becoming relentless. “Let go for me,” he commanded against her wet flesh, his voice thick with her taste. “I want to feel you come on my tongue. I’ve waited my whole life for this.”The coil shattered. Pleasure, white-hot and absolute, ripped through her. Her body convulsed, a wordless cry tearing from her throat as waves of ecstasy pulsed through her, over his tongue, over his fingers. He drank from her, drawing out every last shuddering spasm until she was boneless, trembling, collapsed back onto the cool glass.He rose above her, his own breathing ragged. His eyes were black with desire, his lips glistening. He unbuckled his belt, the sound harsh in the quiet room, and freed his erection. He was thick, veined, and painfully hard. He stroked himself once, his gaze locked on her wrecked, sated form.He leaned over her, bracing himself on the desk, and brushed the hair from her damp forehead. “This is only the beginning,” he promised, his voice a rough whisper. The broad, slick head of his cock pressed against her

Zarina, fueled by weeks of resentment, stormed into the CEO's office and resigned, only to be confronted by her childhood friend and secret crush, Dimitri Volkov, who had been testing her.  He revealed his true feelings and the two shared a passionate encounter on his desk.

The stinging scent of industrial cleaner mixed with the low hum of servers was Zarina’s new reality. For three agonizing weeks, it had been nothing but fetching coffee, enduring the dismissive snaps of senior analysts, and being utterly invisible to the man at the top. But today, the sharp click of her heels on the polished concrete floor of the executive suite was a declaration of war. She was done.

She didn’t bother knocking. The heavy oak door to the CEO’s office swung open under her determined push.

Dimitri Volkov didn’t look up from his monitor, his voice a glacier-calving monotone. “I do not recall scheduling an interruption.”

“Then schedule this,” Zarina said, her voice trembling not with fear, but with a fury that had been simmering for days. She marched to the immense glass desk, her curvy frame a defiant contrast to the sterile, minimalist room. “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”

That got his attention. His head lifted slowly, those icy blue eyes, the ones that had haunted her sleepless nights with their cold indifference, now pinned her to the spot. A muscle ticked in his jaw. _God, he was beautiful. And utterly terrifying._

“Ms. Soriano,” he said, her name a low caress that felt completely at odds with his expression. “Is there a problem a competent HR representative could not handle?”

“The problem,” she bit out, leaning her palms on his desk, “is you. Your contempt. Your constant, demeaning scrutiny. You treat everyone like malfunctioning software, but you’ve been especially cruel to me. I will not be your office pariah any longer.”

For a long moment, he was silent, his gaze dropping from her flashing eyes to the way her blouse strained slightly over her full breasts with each angry breath. The air crackled. Then, a transformation so subtle she almost missed it. The rigid CEO mask didn’t so much crack as it _melted_. The cold arrogance in his eyes bled away, replaced by a heat so intense it stole the air from her lungs. A slow, devastating smile touched his lips.

“You really don’t remember me at all, do you, Zarina?” he murmured, his voice now a rough, intimate baritone that vibrated deep in her core.

She froze. _Remember him?_ Her mind raced, scrambling over childhood memories buried under years of loss and struggle. A shy, overweight boy. Tear-filled eyes behind thick glasses. Bullies in a dusty schoolyard. _Her, small but fierce, standing between them._

“The oak tree behind the old community center,” he prompted, rising from his chair with a predator’s grace. He came around the desk, his powerful frame dominating the space, yet his movements were suddenly gentle. “You shoved Leo Markov into the dirt for calling me ‘Dimitri the Dumptruck’.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Dimitri? Little Dimitri?” The name was a disbelieving whisper. The boy she’d protected. The boy she’d secretly had a crush on before her grandmother moved them away. _This_ chiseled god of a man was _him_?

“Not so little anymore,” he said, now standing mere inches from her. The cold CEO was gone, and in his place was a man gazing at her with a raw, hungry tenderness that made her knees weak. “Every single pound I lost, every muscle I built, every late night at the gym… it was for this. For the moment I could be strong enough. For you.”

“All this… the job… the coldness…” she stammered, her world tilting on its axis.

“A test,” he confessed, his hand lifting to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked her skin, a shocking brand of heat. “I had to be sure the kindness wasn’t just a childhood memory. I had to see the woman you became. And god, Zarina… you are so much more.” His eyes darkened with a possessive fire. “All I’ve done is watch you. Want you. _Burn_ for you.”

Any thought of resignation, of anger, evaporated. The office, the company, the world outside this room ceased to exist. There was only his heat, his confession, and the decadent, pooling need between her thighs.

He saw the surrender in her eyes. With a low groan that was pure want, he closed the final distance. His mouth crashed down on hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a _reclamation_. A decade of longing poured into the desperate slide of his lips against hers. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting of dark coffee and pure, unadulterated _need_. Zarina moaned, her body going pliant against his, her hands tangling in the immaculate silk of his hair. He kissed her like a man dying of thirst, and she was his only source of water.

His hands were everywhere at once, learning her, claiming her. One tangled in her hair, angling her head for a deeper kiss, while the other slid down her back, over the curve of her hip, squeezing the generous flesh of her backside with a guttural sound of approval. _“So perfect. So soft for me.”_

He walked her backward until the edge of his desk dug into her thighs. With a single, powerful sweep of his arm, he cleared the surface, sending tablets and papers crashing to the floor. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, setting her down on the cool glass. He stepped between her legs, his erection a hard, insistent pressure against the damp apex of her thighs, even through their clothes.

“I have dreamed of this,” he growled against her neck, his teeth scraping lightly over her pulse point before his tongue soothed the spot. His fingers made quick, urgent work of the buttons on her blouse. “Dreamed of tasting every single inch of the angel who saved me.”

The blouse fell open. His breath hitched as he saw her simple lace bra, the full breasts swelling over the top. _“Dios mío,”_ he breathed, reverent. He bent his head, his mouth closing over the lace, sucking the stiff peak of her nipple through the fabric. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure pleasure that made her back arch off the desk with a sharp cry.

He chuckled, a dark, sensual sound, and made quick work of the front clasp. Her breasts spilled into his hands, and the look of raw worship on his face stole her breath. “Even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured before his mouth descended on her bare skin.

He lavished attention on each breast, sucking, licking, nipping with a controlled ferocity that had her writhing, her fingers clutching at his broad shoulders. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle bite, was a brand, a promise. He worshiped her curves with a fervor that spoke of years of pent-up desire, his hands kneading her softness as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

His mouth left a wet, heated trail down her stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her skirt and panties. In one fluid motion, he stripped them from her, leaving her completely bare and exposed on his desk, under the stark office lights. She should have felt vulnerable. She felt _empowered_.

He dropped to his knees before her, his hands spreading her thighs. His heated gaze fixed on the very core of her, and the air left his lungs in a shuddering sigh. _“You’re dripping for me, solnyshko.”_

And then his mouth was on her.

The first swipe of his tongue was a revelation. It was slow, deliberate, parting her folds to lave at her very center. Zarina’s head fell back, a broken sob escaping her lips. He held her hips firmly, anchoring her as he feasted on her. He explored her with an artist’s devotion, learning what made her gasp, what made her thighs tremble, what made her chant his name like a prayer.

His tongue circled her clit with agonizing slowness before sucking the sensitive bud firmly into the heat of his mouth. Her hips bucked off the desk, but his grip was iron, holding her right there for his pleasure. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them, finding a spot deep within that made her see stars. The dual sensation was overwhelming—the relentless, skilled suction of his mouth and the deep, filling thrust of his fingers.

“Dimitri… please… I can’t…” she begged, her body coiling tighter and tighter, a spring about to snap.

He increased the pressure, his rhythm becoming relentless. _“Let go for me,”_ he commanded against her wet flesh, his voice thick with her taste. _“I want to feel you come on my tongue. I’ve waited my whole life for this.”_

The coil shattered. Pleasure, white-hot and absolute, ripped through her. Her body convulsed, a wordless cry tearing from her throat as waves of ecstasy pulsed through her, over his tongue, over his fingers. He drank from her, drawing out every last shuddering spasm until she was boneless, trembling, collapsed back onto the cool glass.

He rose above her, his own breathing ragged. His eyes were black with desire, his lips glistening. He unbuckled his belt, the sound harsh in the quiet room, and freed his erection. He was thick, veined, and painfully hard. He stroked himself once, his gaze locked on her wrecked, sated form.

He leaned over her, bracing himself on the desk, and brushed the hair from her damp forehead. “This is only the beginning,” he promised, his voice a rough whisper. The broad, slick head of his cock pressed against her

A curvy, submissive secretary, Zarina, finds herself drawn into a complex web of desire and longing when she reunites with her childhood protector, now a cold and dominant CEO, Dimitri. Their past connection and unspoken feelings ignite a passionate, secret romance as Dimitri reveals his true self to Zarina, exploring themes of forbidden love, power dynamics, and the transformative power of first love.

Beneath His Cold Mask, Love Lingers Secretly

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