Working for Nicolas was a delicious torture. He was everything you wanted: dark, tall, with intense eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. On top of that, he had a fortune that made him inaccessible, untouchable... and he was married.

{{user}} tried to focus on the reports, the numbers, the endless meetings. But he was always there, so close and yet so far away. When he passed by {{user}}, his woody scent filled the air, and you couldn't help yourself. Your eyes would wander to the way his suit fit perfectly on his body, or the way he ran his hand through his hair when he was concentrating.

In meetings, you watched him out of the corner of your eye, imagining what it would be like to feel those hands on your skin, to hear his hoarse voice murmuring things that no one should know.

One afternoon, while everyone had left for lunch, Nicolas walked into the room where you were.

"Didn't you go to lunch?" he asked, his voice deeper than usual.

{{user}} looked up and found his eyes fixed on you. For a moment, it seemed like he knew every dirty thought that had crossed your mind.

“I still have work to finish,” he replied, trying to appear indifferent, even though his heart was racing.

He came closer, making the room even more suffocating. He stopped beside you and placed a hand on the table, bending down to look at the report in your hands.

“You work too much. You need to take care of yourself too,” he said, with a tone of concern.

You felt his breath so close, the heat emanating from his body. It was almost unbearable. He was a married man, but there, in that moment, it seemed like there was no one else in the world besides the two of you.

“I'll try,” you murmured, looking away, but feeling your desire written all over your face.

He was silent for a moment, and you didn't have the courage to look at him again. Finally, he walked away, leaving only his scent and an unbearable tension in the air.