The Elevator

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Fandom: Mr. Love Queen's Choice

Pairing: Victor x Reader

Summary: An elevator ride with the CEO

There was something different. The way you smiled at him. The way you laughed, throaty and rich. It's like a switch had been flipped somewhere. It was different. It made him crave you just that much more.

And you knew it.

You had to know. Because when you stepped into the elevator ahead of him, you threw a smile over your shoulder. Casual, but alluring in the way only you could be.

It was late. The doors closed you both in. Together. Alone. And you were looking at him with those eyes. Dark, hooded...hungry.

The lust swirled in his veins, stirring up desires that he kept locked up for his own sanity. He was supposed to give you space. He was supposed to give you time. But the spark of your gaze said something else. It said that space was overrated, the time was now. And as he inched towards you, bringing his fingers up to brush the curve of your throat, he could only hope that he wasn't completely misreading the situation. Because there was so much he wanted from you. But this – the soft skin, the shallow breath, the parting lips - this was too much to restrain.

Your breath hitched. The lightness of his touch, the meticulous way he drew his fingers in a line to your jaw sent a jolt through you and you had to close your eyes for a brief second. Gather control. But the moment you opened your eyes there he was. So close. His breath tickling your cheek. Hovering in your personal space. Waiting for permission. The air between you charged hot. The blood drummed in your ears, nearly drowning out the sound of the elevator's humming decline

"Victor..." your tongue darted out to moisten your lips.

He brought his lips to yours, rough and demanding. He forced you to retreat a couple steps until your back hit the smooth metal wall with a thud – you gasped into his mouth and he rebuffed his attack because that sound drove him crazy as well. It added to the fire that was already licking at his skin and pulsing through his veins.

Your hands gripped his lapel, pulling him along, keeping him flush against you. All the while your lips and tongues battled.

And that's what it was. A battle. For what prize, he couldn't be sure. But he sure as hell wasn't going to lose. Failure was not an option. Not when his fingers were threaded through your silky hair like he'd dreamed so many times. Not when your heaving chest was pressed against him like that. Not when his entire being was buzzing, desperate for more.

Every floor you passed brought with it a soft ping, a countdown towards the end of your delirium. But the sound was muffled by both of your panting and the amplified ruffle of dislodged clothing.

Victor allowed you to jerk his coat from his shoulders before he tugged impatiently at your blouse. His thumb toyed with the skin just above your waistline as it became exposed, eliciting a ragged breath and the hint of a whimper.

He knew the doors would open soon and reveal both of you to whoever might be waiting for a ride up from the parking garage. He knew he should stop...but the thought of being caught just spurred him on. It heightened his senses, heightened the urgency with which his hands took in the expanse of the skin hidden beneath your shirt. He wanted more - more gasps, more tastes of your minty mouth and salty skin. And he was going to get his fill before this dream ended.

You moved in a haze. This was sure to cause trouble down the line. But his hands were setting your skin on fire and his teeth nibbling at your neck were erasing every doubt. Don't think, just do. So you did.

But a final ding broke through the fog. And the elevator doors slid apart.

Your flurry of pawing hands and gnashing teeth came to a grinding halt, the mercifully deserted stretch of concrete visible in the corner of your vision.

You both stood frozen, breath mixing, hearts hammering, eyes fixed. Either one of you could have made the first move, severed the connection and escaped into the gray of the parking garage. One of you could have ended this madness, left it locked away in that space, another memory to be ignored.

But the seconds ticked by. Neither of you moved. And with a whir the doors came together again. And so did your bodies.

You clawed at his belt buckle. He fumbled with the buttons of your blouse. Piece by piece your clothing gave way to flesh. Shivering, tingling, burning flesh.

There was no time to think. For once you both let things go, no over thinking or analyzing. No second thoughts.

As he hoisted you up against the hand rail, you wrapped your legs around his waist. The delicious pressure of your weight against him drove him wild. You nipped at his ear, your shaky exhale burning him. Urging him forward.

Shuddering and breathless, you moved against one another. The fire growing until nothing existed in the world but friction and heat and skin.

Your heartbeat was agonizingly fast and the blood poured through your veins so swiftly that your limbs throbbed. Static crawled over every inch of your skin, hypersensitive and sparking at his touch. The muscles in your thigh convulsed where his hand gripped you tightly.

The sensation was too much, too intense. You couldn't handle the overload as every nerve-ending fired in sequence.

You buried your face in the curve of his shoulder, biting down to smother a cry.
Try as you might, you couldn't stop the rattling of your teeth as your body succumbed to the tremors.

It was blinding, the way you shuddered around him. The way your nails clamped down through his shirt. Maddening. Amazing. Extraordinary. Adjectives were inadequate. This was. It just was.

Seconds ran out of order. Every image, every sensation, every moment blurred into one. You pressed your quivering lips to his ear and he breathed harshly into your hair, choking on a silent scream.

You both stilled. Inhaling and exhaling in time. Cheek to cheek. Drawing out the moment before you had to face something beyond heavy limbs and the satisfaction of exhaustion.

He dared to pull back, attempted to catch your eye, wondering if you both had finally gone too far. He suspected you had both reached the point of no return. No, he knew you both had. The question stood: was this just the beginning, a crazy, spontaneous spark to push you down the path he'd waited so long for?

You looked up at the same moment, found his eyes still in a stupor, but held his gaze all the same. You quirked the side of your lip up, almost like a shrug. Then you leaned up to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, still raw and pulsing.

You lingered for a moment. "Next time, let's do it without the elevator."

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