Chapter 104: Spectator **
The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp.
Ryan forced his jaw to unclench. He kept his hands flat on the aluminum surface of the laptop. "You shouldn’t bother yourself with that," he said, injecting a hard, dismissive edge into his tone. "Just focus on the API reroute and lock down the primary firewall."
Iralis didn’t blink and didn’t look down at her screen.
Instead, she stood up.
The movement was abrupt, lacking her usual calculated efficiency.
"Wait," Ryan said, his voice sharpening into a command. "What are you doing?"
Iralis ignored him. Her sensible, flat-soled shoes clicked against the charcoal carpet as she walked deliberately around the edge of the massive walnut desk.
Ryan’s muscles locked tight. He couldn’t pull his pants up without slamming his knees into Sophie’s face. He was completely trapped, exposed in the center of his own glass fortress.
Iralis cleared the edge of the wooden modesty panel and stopped dead.
For three agonizing seconds, the universe simply froze.
The visual was undeniable.
Ryan sat with his dark slacks and boxers bunched around his ankles, his thick, slick erection jutting out into the cool office air.
And right between his spread thighs, kneeling on the carpet, was the company’s lead designer, her lips parted and hovering an inch away from his cock.
Sophie froze, her eyes wide with absolute, blinding horror. She didn’t breathe.
Ryan stared at his systems architect. He waited for the gasp. He waited for the professional outrage, the immediate turn on her heel.
None of that happened.
A deep, vivid flush crept up from the collar of Iralis’s oversized sweater, staining her neck and flooding her cheeks with dark, blazing red.
It was the very first time Ryan had ever seen her lose her clinical composure. The impenetrable mask had melted entirely.
She reached up with a trembling hand and pushed her wire-rimmed glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
"Please," Iralis murmured, her voice thin and breathy, barely carrying over the hum of the air conditioning. "Go on with what you were doing. I’ll leave."
But her feet didn’t move.
She stayed rooted to the carpet, her hands dropping to her sides. Her dark eyes remained locked onto the heavy, throbbing length resting between Sophie’s trembling hands.
The analytical genius who broke down complex coding structures was completely, utterly paralyzed by awe. She wasn’t fleeing. She was observing.
The sheer, unprecedented voyeurism of it hit Ryan like a match dropped in gasoline.
The panic evaporated, incinerated by a dark, rushing wave of absolute control. He wasn’t cornered. He was the king of the board, and he had an audience.
A slow, wicked smile spread across Ryan’s face.
He looked down at Sophie. She was staring up at him, her chest heaving, her face burning with a mix of fierce humiliation and trapped adrenaline.
Ryan’s hand slid into the back of her hair. He gripped the blonde strands tightly, anchoring her in place.
"Then excuse us," Ryan said.
He applied a firm, downward pressure.
Sophie let out a muffled whimper, her resistance crumbling instantly under the weight of his command. She leaned forward and took him back into her mouth.
The wet, slick sound of her lips sealing around his shaft echoed loudly in the silence.
Ryan leaned back in the executive chair, his gaze drifting up from Sophie to meet Iralis’s wide eyes.
"Don’t stop, Sophie," Ryan rasped, his hips bucking upward to meet her mouth. "Show how well you do your job."
Sophie whimpered around him, but she obeyed.
The shame of being caught warring violently with the deep, twisted thrill of the exhibition.
She bobbed her head, establishing a wet, sloppy rhythm. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, pulling him deep against the back of her throat. Spit glistened on her lips, shining in the low, ambient light of the frosted office.
Iralis stood paralyzed just three feet away.
Her breathing turned shallow and erratic. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her thumbs rubbing nervously against her index fingers – a frantic, physical manifestation of the overload firing through her nervous system.
She tracked every movement. She watched the way Ryan’s abdominal muscles locked tight. She watched the way Sophie swallowed, the way the designer’s throat fluttered around the thick intrusion.
The clinical observer was drowning in raw, unfiltered heat.
"Fuck," Ryan grunted, his grip tightening in Sophie’s hair.
The friction was overwhelming. Having Iralis standing right there, flushing dark red, watching them with such naked, desperate fascination, pushed him dangerously close to the edge.
The visual of the two women—one servicing him, the other captivated by it—shattered the last of his restraint.
"I’m close," Ryan warned, his hips snapping upward in short, ruthless thrusts. "Coming, Sophie."
Sophie sucked harder, her hands gripping his thighs, anchoring herself as he drove deep into her mouth.
Ryan’s spine arched rigid. A low, guttural groan ripped out of his chest as he came. He spilled down the back of her throat in heavy, burning pulses.
Sophie swallowed frantically, her throat working convulsively to take every drop, choking slightly but refusing to pull away until the final tremor left his body.
He slowly loosened his grip on her hair. She pulled back, gasping for air, a thin string of saliva connecting her swollen lips to the tip of his cock.
Ryan looked straight at Iralis. The architect was trembling visibly, her chest rising and falling in harsh, uneven bursts.
"Open," Ryan commanded, looking down at Sophie.
Sophie closed her eyes, her face burning, and opened her mouth. She extended her tongue, flattening it out. Clean. She had swallowed every single drop.
Iralis stared at the wet, shining evidence.
Her thumbs twiddled frantically against her palms. The flush on her face was so dark it looked feverish.
She swallowed hard, adjusting her glasses with a jerky, uncoordinated motion.
She forced her feet to move, backing away from the desk like a person stepping out of a trance. She bumped awkwardly into the guest chair, grabbing her silver laptop with shaking hands.
"I’ll... I’ll do as instructed," Iralis stammered, the words rushing out of her mouth. She didn’t clarify if she meant the API reroute or the absolute obedience she had just witnessed.
She turned, practically scurrying toward the heavy glass door.
"Iralis."
Ryan’s voice cut through the room, sharp and authoritative.
Iralis froze. Her shoulders jumped. Her heart plummeted into her stomach, hammering violently against her ribs.
She turned around slowly.
Ryan was still sitting in the chair, pulling his slacks back up, a dark, knowing smile curving his lips. Sophie was scrambling off the carpet, her face buried in her hands, desperately trying to straighten her ruined blouse and hide her burning humiliation.
Iralis gripped the laptop against her chest like a shield. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
"Sir?" she asked.
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
She had never called him Sir before. She called him Ryan. She called him the boss. But standing here, saturated in the heavy, dominant energy of what she had just watched, the title wired itself directly to her tongue.
Ryan’s smile widened a fraction. He recognized the slip. He let it hang in the air for a heavy, vibrating second.
"Leave the keycard," Ryan said smoothly.
Iralis swallowed.
A chaotic, violent mix of emotions flashed across her face. Relief that he wasn’t firing her. Relief that she was allowed to escape. But fighting right alongside it, burning in the dark depths of her eyes, was a sharp, distinct flicker of disappointment.
"Of course," she whispered.
She stepped back to the front of the desk. The plastic keycard hit the polished walnut with a sharp clack.
She didn’t look at him again. She turned and practically fled the office, pushing through the heavy door and letting it click firmly shut behind her.
The frosted glass sanctum plunged back into silence.
Sophie let out a strangled, breathless noise. She swatted Ryan hard on the shoulder, her face still flushed a violent crimson.
"What the hell was that?" she hissed, dropping into the empty guest chair and covering her face with her hands. "Oh my god. I have to look at her tomorrow. She just watched me... I can’t believe she just stood there!"
Ryan chuckled, leaning back in his chair and buckling his belt.
The adrenaline was still humming through his veins, warm and satisfying.
"She seems quite reserved," Ryan murmured, looking at the plastic keycard sitting on his desk. "But Iralis might have some hidden desires of her own."
Sophie dropped her hands, glaring at him with a mix of disbelief and sharp, territorial heat.
"Don’t tell me you plan on fucking another one of your employees," Sophie warned, her voice dropping into a territorial growl.
Ryan picked up the keycard, turning it slowly between his fingers. He thought of the deep, blazing flush on the architect’s face and the way her voice had trembled when she called him Sir.
He smiled, looking back at Sophie.
"I didn’t plan on it," Ryan said softly. "Not until now."