I don’t turn back to look at Ivy as I pull her into the office building. Although I can imagine what she looks like. Eyes wide, brows raised, and her mouth slightly parted. I don’t have time to look at her. I’m on a mission. A mission to have Ivy before she changes her mind. Because I know this is some sort of game with her. And I don’t think that I can stop again. Last time was too hard. I’ll die if I don’t have her. Fuck her. Taste her. I’m desperate for her. And she knows that. I know that she is desperate for me, too. But I know that her self-control is stronger. She has more self-control than I do. She can still say no.

I’ll die if I don’t have her. I roughly hold on to her hand as I pull her further inside the building. I’ve only been inside a handful of times, so when I turn right down a hallway that leads me to a dead end, I curse and have to turn back to the lobby to read the signs to figure out which way I’m supposed to go to get to the elevators. I can hear Ivy behind me, laughing quietly to herself and at my inability to find my way around the building. She probably thinks it’s just another lie I didn’t think through before taking her here. But the truth is, Ivy makes me crazy. So crazy that I have no idea how to find my way around this building even though I’ve never gotten lost before.

I finally find the arrow that points us toward the elevators, and I drag Ivy down the hallway, pressing the button as soon as we get there. And then I stare up at the numbers above the elevator indicating what floor it is on.

Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. It stops at twelve for what seems like forever.

I can feel Ivy trying to break free of my grasp again, but I won’t let her. My grasp is too firm for her to break free this time.

“I know you’re lying. I know this isn’t your office building. Let’s just find the nearest restroom,” Ivy says between heavy breaths.

I don’t dare look at her. Because I know, if I do, I’ll fuck her right here in this lobby. I won’t wait. And she needs to see my office. She needs to see it to be a believer.

I crack my neck back and forth, trying to get rid of my angst, while we wait for the elevator to reach our floor. But it does nothing to release the energy that has built up inside me. Finally, the doors open, and I pull Ivy inside, practically ripping her arm off. I press the button for the eleventh floor and then the button for the doors to close.

“Can you hold the elevator for me?” a man’s voice shouts.

I don’t hold the elevator. The elevator starts creeping up, and I do everything I can to keep from looking at Ivy. I crack my neck, I tap my foot, and I stare at the numbers, reading what floor we are on, but I can feel myself losing control with each second that passes.

And then I feel Ivy’s lips right next to my ear, her warm breath driving me mad. “I can’t wait,” she whispers in my ear.

I can’t either. I grab her and push her up against the elevator wall as our lips collide, our bodies interlock, and our destinies change forever.

I kiss her over and over as my hands feel every inch of her body. My hand slips under her dress and grabbing her ass. I hear the ding of the elevator, and the doors prepare to open. I glance back but see we’re only on the eighth floor. I move to pull away, knowing that someone else is about to step on the elevator, but Ivy bites my lip hard, keeping me in place.

My dirty princess, I think.

We both hear people step onto the elevator, but that doesn’t stop us from making out in front of them. We hear the sighs. We hear the whispers from the guests in the elevator. But that doesn’t stop us. Nothing can. Because we want each other too much to stop.

The elevator dings again. I glance up to see that we’re on the eleventh floor. I grab Ivy’s ass and lift her legs as she wraps them around my waist so that I can keep kissing her. I carry her off the elevator as Ivy’s hands roughly hold on to my hair, our lips locked and eyes focused on each other. I turn right, at least remembering that my office is down the hallway. But I somehow manage to walk into every wall, door, and desk on my way to my office. People scatter as we walk by, looking at us with shocked looks on their faces. These are colleagues of mine—people I should be trying to impress, people I will have to work with—but I don’t care. Right now, all I care about is Ivy.

We finally make it, and I push her back into the door, assuming the door is unlocked.

“Ow,” Ivy says as I ram her back into the door.

I trying to push the door open, but it doesn’t budge.

I gently set Ivy on the ground, and I turn the doorknob. But it still won’t budge.

Ivy laughs. “Seriously, I think I saw a restroom at the other end of the hallway.”

“No.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my keys. I find the key that unlocks my office, and I push the key in until the door unlocks.

I look at Ivy, who has one eyebrow raised as she looks at the door that just popped open. I flick the lights on and watch with hungry eyes as Ivy walks cautiously into my office. I follow slowly behind her, waiting for her to tell me how much she doesn’t believe me. I watch as her eyes scan the diplomas on the wall, showing I graduated from UCLA and Stanford. I watch as her eyes travel to my desk where there’s a picture of me and my family dressed to go to a ball in full royal attire. She picks the picture up and stares at it for a minute before slowly returning the frame back to my desk. She looks over at the final picture on my desk and gasps. She picks it up, and her eyes fill with what I hope is love. Because sitting on my desk is a picture of me with her in my arms, sitting on the beach. We are both laughing and smiling and being our genuine selves. A moment that is pretty rare for me. A rare moment where I wasn’t lying. I was just myself.

She narrows her eyes as she looks at me, studies me.

I shrug. “I told you I wasn’t lying this time.”

It takes her a second to decide what she’s going to do next. But then she starts walking toward me, toward the door. And I don’t know which one she’s walking to.

Is she upset and going to leave? Or does she want me to fuck her in this office?

When her eyes meet mine, I know the answer. I push the door shut and turn the lock. And I meet her halfway, grabbing her ass as she grabs my neck, our lips locking again. We kiss and kiss, desperate for each other. Ivy’s hands clutch my chest while mine grab her gorgeous ass. We’re showing each other how desperate we are to have one moment where the lies or the truth don’t matter. It’s just about us connecting in a primal way that we both need, that we are desperate for.

“How does my dirty girl want to be fucked?” I kiss her neck while I wait for her response.

“I’m not so dirty anymore.”

I bite her earlobe as she purrs.

“I think you’re still plenty dirty enough.”

In one swipe, I knock everything off my desk and onto the floor. Ivy gasps.

I laugh as I pick her up and set her on the desk. I spread her legs far apart and step in between them. I place my hand on her chin and pull her forward for one long kiss, trying to slow things down a little before we lose our minds. When I stop kissing her, I grab the hem of her dress and slowly lift it over her head as she grabs my shirt and does the same.

“Bra off,” I command.

I watch as she slowly slinks out of her bra. I suck in a breath when I notice something new and very dirty. Nipple piercings. She wasn’t wearing them the night before.

I bend down and immediately take one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling around the piercing. “You’re right; you’re not such a dirty girl anymore.”

She moans as I suck, and then she bites down hard on my shoulder as I take the other one in my mouth.

“I’m only dirty for you.”

I grab and rip her underwear down her body, and my mouth drops to the floor.

“I’ve been very dirty,” she says as her hands travel down between her legs, between her folds, to play with the piercing covering her clit. That she also wasn’t wearing last night.

As much as I want her to keep playing with herself while I sit and watch, I can’t let her continue. I grab her hand and take whatever fingers into my mouth, licking her sweet juices off of them. And then I lower my tongue to taste her.

“Fuck!” she screams much too loudly for someone in the building not to hear.

I stop when she screams and then bend down to grab the underwear that is lying on the floor. I shove it into her mouth to keep her quiet.

“If you scream, I can’t keep doing this,” I say.

My tongue flicks in between her full lips and over her clit. I can see in her eyes how good it feels and how desperate she is to scream again. I pull a condom out of my pocket and then push my pants and underwear down as I continue to lick her. I stroke myself once and then twice, but it’s not necessary. I’m more than hard for her. I push the condom onto my dick and then grab her, pulling her off the desk. She whimpers just a little at the loss of my touch, but then I shove her hard against the window, face-first. Her eyes grow wide when she realizes that anybody can see her in the window, completely naked and exposed. But, when I start kissing her neck, she no longer cares. I push into her pussy from behind, and I watch as she bites down hard on the underwear in her mouth.

“You like that, my dirty princess?”

She moans her response.

I thrust over and over as I take turns grabbing each nipple and flicking its piercing. Her body was amazing before, but now, it’s even more fun to play with. I love listening to the soft moans as I thrust inside her. I love feeling her body tighten and expand as I move inside her. I love as the look in her eyes grows heavier and heavier. I love knowing that she lets me have complete control, doing anything I want to her body, and that she only lets me. Have that control. Because, deep down, despite all my lies, I know that she trusts me enough to give me that control. She just won’t ever admit it to herself.

“Come, princess.” I see her getting close.

Her body trembles, and then she screams, “Fuck, prince!”