Still mostly asleep, Tom sensed Charlotte moving beside him. Without thinking, he extended a hand, reaching for her. "What's wrong?" His voice came out as a half-coherent mumble. "You okay?"

She pressed her body along the length of his. Opening his eyes, he found that the room was dark; the sky beyond the window held no trace of pre-dawn light. Only the city around them provided illumination, muted as it was at this early hour. 

"I'm fine," Charlotte whispered in reply. "A little sore."

Tom's guilt served to rouse him from his stupor. "I'm sorry. I told you I didn't want to—"

Her fingers explored the contours of his face before settling on his lips to silence him. "Don't apologize; it's what I needed from you." 

When he started to embrace her, she dropped her hand to his chest, then asked, "You know what would soothe my tender pussy?" He heard the grin in her question.

"Do tell, Charlotte."

She slid her palm lower, her fingers traveling along his belly. "Your tongue."

His cock pulsed before she reached it. "Mmm, the least I can do is tend to your aching pussy." Turning to rest on his back, he said, "Sit on my face, baby."

In the darkness, Charlotte moved tentatively, careful not to plant a knee in the wrong place. Finally, she straddled him, and while Tom loosely grasped her hips, he drew in a deep breath. Her scent, so familiar to him now, caused his mouth to water in anticipation.

Her caution lingered as she settled on his face. He was the one who pulled her down more firmly so the smell and taste of her sex inundated him. Already, she was wet, fresh arousal mingling with the dried juices still clinging to her pubic hair. 

When his tongue sought her entrance, she let out a mewl of pleasure. Eagerly, he licked and nuzzled, his own skin slick with her lubrication. 

Charlotte's legs tightened around him, and as she held onto the bed's headboard, her hips began their fervent rocking. She slid her pussy back and forth, her cries growing louder from the stimulation his tongue provided.

Tom moaned, feeling as though he was cocooned not only by her needy cunt but also by her insatiable desire. Now that she'd taken control, riding his face and encouraging him to lick the entire length of her pussy, he languidly stroked his cock to full hardness while satisfying her. 

Though Charlotte's thighs soon quaked, signaling how close she was to orgasm, she abruptly lifted off of him. "Can you breathe okay?" she asked in a high-pitched voice.

Her concern for his well-being was surprising, to say the least. "I can breathe fine," he assured her. "Now get back down here."

Before she had the chance to obey, he pulled her onto his unrelenting mouth. 

"Oh, fuck yes!" she moaned even while wriggling in his grip. He continued feasting on her ripe, juicy cunt, determined to make her come. 

It took little time for him to achieve his goal. The moment Charlotte's climax washed over her, she bore down hard on his face, her hips lewdly rotating as she strove to heighten her bliss.

Tom lay beneath Charlotte, making no move to stop her. It was she who again lifted her body, resting her weight on her knees as her orgasm subsided. 

Instead of returning to his side, she slid her pussy along his torso. He knew he'd smell of her until his next shower. Straddling his hips, she leaned forward to kiss him. 

Tom wove his fingers through her hair, delighting in her greedy mouth. Filthy and playful, she swept her tongue over his lips and chin, gathering up remnants of her juices.

When Charlotte sat up again, she reached behind her, feeling for his cock. "Oh, you're ready for another fuck, aren't you?"

He tried and failed to suppress a groan while she stroked his erection. "What about your sore pussy?"

"It's aching to be filled now." Charlotte positioned herself so that her opening was right above his cockhead. With a gentle touch, she lined up their bodies, preparing to sink down on him.

"We need a condom," he blurted out. His tip was at that moment pressing into her flesh.

"You didn't use one before." She remained poised above him, her fingers circled around his dick. 

"I got carried away." Tom sounded sheepish, almost ashamed. "We shouldn't take chances—"

Charlotte's impatient sigh was easily audible. "I told you, I'm on the pill."

As she waited for his response, it felt like those seconds of silence distorted, stretching into eons. Tom knew he could effortlessly flip Charlotte over so that he was on top and in control. Even if his refusal provoked her anger, he had little doubt in his ability to ultimately pacify her. With his mouth and hands, and with his cock, he could bring her around to his way of thinking.

It was his own will that faltered. In Charlotte's hand, his cock throbbed and twitched, aching to be surrounded by the walls of her tight pussy. 

His moan was one of submission, and it prompted Charlotte to take what she wanted. In a swift, fluid motion, she accepted his entire length. 

Another moan, this one much louder, escaped Tom's lips as his jaw slackened. Charlotte gave him little opportunity to revel in the sensation of being buried inside her, for she began moving at a pace that bordered on impatient. It was clear that she wanted to come again, and quickly. 

Her grace surprised him once more as she rode his dick. Issuing faint cries, she worked her hot, wet pussy up and down his shaft, and when he lifted his hands to cup her breasts, she took him even faster.

Instinct took over, compelling him to buck his hips. Charlotte leaned forward, allowing him to wrap her in his arms while he thrust at a frantic speed. 

Tom knew it was dangerous, reckless as hell. He'd lectured her about needing a condom, yet he was now doing nothing to fight back his own impending orgasm. The sound of their fucking carried to his ears, a useless warning.  

"Don't stop!" Charlotte pleaded. "I want to feel you come inside me!"

Tom was again coated in fresh sweat, his lust warring with apprehension. "We can't risk it," he practically growled.

"Come in my pussy!" As Charlotte spoke, her muscles constricted around his cock. "Oh my God, I'm almost there!"

She shook in his embrace, utterly yielding as Tom drove himself inside her. He was rapidly approaching a crisis point, during which it would be impossible to prevent his climax. But the knowledge did nothing to dissuade him. 

Their bodies made a hollow clapping sound every time they forcefully connected. Through her orgasm, Charlotte kept urging him on.

"Wreck my pussy, Tom! Make me your dirty slut and fill me with your cum!"

Releasing a strangled cry, he gave in to her demands. Even with his cock all the way inside her, he kept straining upward, as if he could somehow penetrate her harder, deeper. 

Afterward, Charlotte slumped forward, resting her cheek on his chest. The movement caused his cock to slip out of her entirely, and she whined in quiet protest. Fresh sweat bonded her skin to his.

As Tom's pleasure waned, inevitable clarity took its place. Still breathing heavily, he said, more to himself than Charlotte, "I shouldn't have done that."

She lifted her head. "Shouldn't have done what?" 

"Come inside you."

"Oh, for God's sake!" Carelessly, she climbed off of him, butting his hip with her knee in the process.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Instead of answering, Charlotte switched on the lamp. While he shielded his eyes from the sudden light, she strode toward her overnight bag and began rummaging through it. Once she located the object of her search, she returned to the bedside.

"Since you don't believe me..." Charlotte tossed a blister pack of pills onto his chest. "Take a look."

Tom hesitated before obeying. Holding the packet in front of his face, he could easily see that it contained birth control pills. Saturday's tablet had been removed, the foil behind it split open. 

"I take it every night at bedtime," Charlotte said, folding her arms over her breasts. "I swallowed the pill with some tap water while I was in the bathroom earlier."

Chagrined, Tom extended his hand, offering the medication back to her. She snatched it from his grasp. "I'm sorry," he muttered. 

She rolled her eyes. "You really are a fool if you think I want to have your child."

Neither of them spoke while she tucked the pills back into her bag. The air was thick with tension, and Tom grew anxious to assuage Charlotte's irritation. In desperation, he made a lame attempt at humor. "At least we both know I'm not father material."

She continued glowering, her silence ominous as she turned off the lamp. Tom quickly moved over in bed to make room for her. 

His assistant didn't speak until she was lying next to him, claiming most of the covers. "I doubt you're even boyfriend material," she finally retorted. "All you're good for is fucking."

Feeling the coolness of the room settle upon his skin, he managed to wrest back his share of the duvet. Charlotte let out a squawk of indignation but didn't fight him.

"Well, since all you wanted from me was a good fuck, I'm glad to have met your expectations," Tom told her with a grin. Again, he felt the immense relief of recovering from a misstep with this woman.

"You certainly did." When Charlotte snuggled up closer, he readily wrapped her in his arms. "And just think, your hellish night will soon be over."

Tom was quiet for a long moment before replying, "It wasn't hellish, Charlotte. Far from it."

How much of that was truth, and how much was uttered simply to please her? Even he didn't know for sure. 

By now, the sky was lightening outside, hinting at dawn. That dull glow enabled Tom to see Charlotte lift her head and open her mouth to speak.

This time, he didn't give her the chance to demand a kiss. When their lips met, she released a pleasured moan, and he held her firmly to him. 

Charlotte was again the first to drift off to sleep, but Tom knew it wouldn't be long before his exhaustion overwhelmed him. His most passionate night with Victoria paled in comparison to the hours he'd spent with his assistant. And of course, he couldn't deny the satisfaction he'd derived from their fucking. Now, he was physically and emotionally drained, yet confident enough to congratulate himself on his performance. 

In his embrace, Charlotte moaned faintly, leading him to wonder what the young woman was dreaming about. He stroked her hair, his touch soothing, and she released a soft sigh in response. 

Tom's fury still flared when he thought of her accessing those private messages with Victoria, and using that leverage to blackmail him into spending a night with her. Yet the anger didn't burn so hot within him now, even as he strove to feed it. He knew that allowing his feelings for Charlotte to soften was a potentially dangerous mistake. Then again, nurturing his resentment would do no good once they were back in the office.

Through a haze of fatigue, Tom realized he would have to disentangle numerous threads: those of lust and affection, of rage and betrayal. 

The task seemed far too great of a burden for him as dawn arrived, so he closed his eyes and joined Charlotte in sleep.

When he woke again, the morning sun had strengthened to its full force, making him reluctant to open his eyes. Looking around through half-closed lids, he discovered he was alone in the bed. The closed bathroom door muted the sound of the shower's spray. 

Rolling over onto his back, he caught the scent of sex and stale sweat clinging to him. He would be glad for his own shower. Charlotte could decide on what she wanted to order for breakfast while he was washing the remnants of last night's multiple fucks from his skin. 

With his forearm over his eyes, he blocked the light and fell into a doze. Only when the bathroom door opened did he sit up, running his fingers through his tousled hair. Looking over at Charlotte, he started to wish her a good morning, but the sight of her abruptly silenced him.

He'd expected her to be bundled up in a robe, ready to linger over breakfast with him. Instead, she wore a pair of jeans and a pink blouse. Rather than the perilously high heels, she had on comfortable sandals. Her hair, still damp from the shower, was piled on top of her head, and her face was free of make-up. With a buoyancy to her step, she resembled an energetic college student.

Tom suddenly felt far older than his years. "You're way ahead of me this morning," he said, giving her his most charming smile. "Let me grab a quick shower, and then we'll eat breakfast."

The smile Charlotte offered in return held none of the playfulness he'd grown accustomed to. "No need," she said. "For breakfast, I mean. I think you definitely need a shower."

His consternation grew as she retrieved her phone from the table drawer and turned it on. Studying the device's screen, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"You're heading out right now?" Though Tom didn't mean to sound so dejected while asking the question, he wanted to make it clear he didn't expect Charlotte to leave right away.

Glancing up at him, she nodded. Her thoughts already seemed to be far away from this room, and from the time they'd spent together. "I wanted a night with you," she said, "and that's what you gave me. I promised I wouldn't ask for anything more."

"But you don't have to—"

Swiftly, she leaned toward Tom and gave him a kiss. It was brief, lacking the heat of those they'd shared before. "Remember, no bullshit," she whispered against his lips. 

Stunned, he watched her turn from him. On the way to the door, she grabbed her bag. "See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder, not once looking back.

Tom stared at the door, now closed. Charlotte's sudden absence seemed to amplify the quiet of the room. What the fuck just happened? he asked himself.   

He should have been relieved that his assistant had made their goodbye so painless for him. She'd conducted herself with an unexpected maturity. With poise, even. 

And instead of being glad that the ordeal had ended, Tom flinched at the blow to his pride. All Charlotte's talk of desperately wanting him, of craving him... Clearly, he hadn't been the only one bullshitting. 

It made him wonder why she'd done all this in the first place. Was it a power trip of some sort? Or a form of twisted revenge, meant to humble him?

For what seemed like the countless time, Tom was left trying to decipher the woman's motives. He feared his self-congratulation had been premature, even foolhardy. Now, he would be forced to endure this uncertainty for another day and night. 

Not until Monday morning would he discover which side of Charlotte awaited him.