Under His Command: The Assistant's Filthy Descent
Under His Command: The Assistant's Filthy Descent Under His Command: The Assistant's Filthy Descent Leah had been Nathan Kwok's executive assistant for fourteen months when she finally stopped lying to herself. She wasn't just "admiring" her boss anymore. She wanted him to wreck her — pin her wrists, spread her legs, and fuck her so deep and rough she'd feel him for days. Nathan was thirty-nine, sharp jaw, quiet authority, the kind of man who could sign off a multi-million deal and then look at you like he already knew how you'd sound begging. Leah was thirty-one, perpetually single, thighs always slick by 6 p.m. from the way his voice dropped when he said her name. It started small. Him standing too close while checking reports, his chest brushing her shoulder, cedar-and-whiskey cologne making her dizzy. “Run the figures again, Leah. I need them perfect.” That low rumble went straight between her legs. She’d nod, c...