Jacob Bixenman
With a freshly brewed cuppa in one hand and one of my handy briefcases in the other, I strut through my building with pride. Everyone practically bows down or cowers away from me, giving me such a sense of satisfaction. Maybe I'm a power addict, maybe I like knowing I'm in control.
Scratch that, we know I love being aware I am always in control.
Pressing the lift button, I tap my just polished shoes on the tile, ready to get up to my office already. Troye's been up there waiting for me, probably squirming around in pleasure by now. The thought of him wiggling around in my chair, a buttplug deep in him, as he tries to hold it together waiting for me. I mean, it has been about half an hour, surely he's on the verge of tears by now.
I can't wait. My own voice echoes in my mind as I had promised him I'd fuck him extra hard where anyone could see if they were to overlook the huge glass windows in my top office. So of course I'm impatient, and so is the strain in my cock.
A ding and opening of doors later, I step in and press the top floor button, huffing as the doors close oh-so-slowly. Hurry up already, would you!? It was then, grinding my teeth together in the lift of my millionaire valued building that I realised just how annoying the allegedly subtle music that plays in this confined box is.
Though I'd rather not let myself believe it, I was up to my floor before I knew it.
The doors open, me expecting my hot ass boyfriend whimpering in my chair as he squirms around.
Alas, I find a cocky looking Smith walking in circles around him as Troye is leaning against my desk, his ass pressed against it.
"Excuse me?" I let out immediately, stepping into the room and making the both of them jump.
Troye's eyes immediately dart down to the floor, his cheeks flushed to the maximum.
"What is going on?" I demand to know.
"Sorry, sir, didn't know you'd be back anytime soon." Smith tries.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing around my property?" I inquire, moving in closer.
He stutters, "Uh, I was j-just showing him something."
"No. Get the fuck out." I growl, shooting the harshest of glares at him, "And take your shit with you. You're fired."
He sputters, only pissing me off further, "Now."
He glares at me, balling his hand into a fist, making me step up nice and close to him.
"I fucking dare you." I mutter, refraining from grabbing him by the shirt and throwing him out the window.
He shrinks back and takes a step backwards, "I'll be leaving."
I step back and watch as he walks out, embarrassed and rushing for his life.
"'s what I fucking thought." I gripe, not daring to let my guard down as he exits.
When the room is left of only two fast-racing hearts, I turn to my desk. Troye.
"What did you do?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and looking at him expectantly.
He furrows his brows together, giving me an odd look, "What did I do?"
"You let Smith in, you didn't force him to leave. Your trousers." I nod his way, staring down at him.
"My trousers?" He questions, looking down at himself.
A patch of dampness near his thigh and his eyes widen, he covers his hands over himself, cheeks flushed more than I had ever seen before.
YOU ARE READING
sued into submission 🌷 tracob
Fanfiction"troye sivan, you've been served." the man in a black coat says, handing me a folder. i clench my jaw, taking it. "all i did was spill a coffee on the bloke, it's not like i fucked his mother in hindsight."
