Christine stood in the doorway of Kofi's office, gripping the files against her chest. His earlier words still echoed in her mind, a subtle touch that lingered on her skin. The way he looked at her—steady, unreadable—made her breath catch.

"Come in, Christine," he said, his voice low and smooth.

She stepped inside, the scent of rich leather mingling with his cologne—a mix of spice and mystery. It seeped into her senses, making her pulse quicken. He leaned back in his chair, exuding effortless control.

"I have another assignment for you," he continued, his tone laced with something unreadable. "Paris."

Her pulse quickened. Paris—the city of romance, decadence, whispered confessions between silk sheets. But it wasn’t just the destination that sent heat curling inside her. It was the way he said it.

She swallowed, regaining composure. "When do I leave?"

A slow, deliberate smile played on his lips. "Tomorrow morning. But first, we have a few things to handle."

Christine stepped closer, placing the files on his desk, her fingers barely grazing his. A spark—brief but undeniable—passed between them. His gaze flicked to her hands before locking onto her eyes, dark and expectant.

"Undress."

A single command. A test.

Her breath came shallow, hesitation flickering. But the weight of his stare, the unspoken challenge, made the choice for her. One by one, the buttons of her blouse slipped undone, the fabric sliding down her shoulders. Each movement deliberate. Each second stretching between them.

Kofi watched, unmoving, his jaw tight. Her bra followed, the cool air teasing her hardened nipples. Then the skirt, the stockings—until she stood before him in nothing but lace and submission.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Come here."

Christine stepped forward, her body humming with anticipation. Kneeling, she placed her hands on his thighs, her fingers tracing the heat beneath his trousers. A sharp inhale from above sent a thrill through her.

She leaned in, lips hovering just over his zipper. "Yes, sir?"

His fingers curled into her hair, tightening. "Suck me."

No hesitation. She freed him, her tongue flicking over the head of his cock before taking him in. He groaned, his restraint slipping as she set a slow, torturous rhythm. The weight of him, the taste, sent desire pooling between her thighs.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his grip tightening as she hollowed her cheeks, drawing him deeper.

His breath hitched. "I'm close."

She quickened, coaxing him over the edge. His release hit with a low, guttural groan, hot against her tongue. She swallowed, licking the last traces from her lips, her eyes locked onto his.

Kofi exhaled sharply, his composure sliding back into place. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, silent praise in his touch.

"You're incredible," he murmured.

Christine smiled, slow and knowing. "Thank you, sir."

He leaned in, fingers tilting her chin. "Let’s see how well you follow orders in Paris."