A/N: This author does not condone relationships of imbalanced power, such as the boss/employee dynamic in this fic. If this theme is unappealing to you, please click the handy little X in the upper left hand corner of your screen. If you are down, please enjoy.

Soul's pen scratches across the paper before him, forming some semblance of sense about a merger he has vague knowledge of. His phone goes off and Soul barely glances at it. His meeting is in 30 minutes, and he has exactly that long to condense some lawyer jargon into a palatable 5 minute presentation for his boss's boss's boss, most likely a white-haired old man with dollar signs in his eyes.
Soul's fingers nearly crush his expensive fountain pen when his phone rings again, this time a 10 second melody he wrote instead of the generic default tone he usually uses.
It's Maka's song.
He drops his pen and reads the message immediately.

Maka: We haven't talked all day. Come see me.

Soul tries to stifle his cheesy grin and fails spectacularly. Officially, according to HR, they've been together for three weeks. Unofficially, they had been fooling around since before he was even hired. What was supposed to be a one night stand turned into a slightly scandalous office affair. Running around in secret had been utterly delightful, but Soul was a romantic at heart and wanted to hold Maka's hand in public, like a middle schooler with his first crush. Maka put her job at great risk to be with HIM, and he loved her dearly for it. She was sharp, sometimes capricious and impulsive, but also compassionate and loving. She was aggressive in the boardroom, and when needed, in the bedroom. And she cried during puppy commercials with sad music.
She gave him whiplash, but she was truly the best friend he ever had.
And her ass was FIRE.
Soul: Cant. Finishing presentation for suits.
He doesn't have to wait long for her reply.

Maka: you don't love me :/

Soul snorts.

Soul: exactly.

He can see her pouty face in his mind, her cheeks puffed up in anger like a tiny blond squirrel. Soul chuckles as he returned to his work.
He lost himself in legal bullshit for a few minutes before his office door swung open, sensible ballet flats tapping rhythmically on the tile.
"Hey," he says, pen still scrawling. "Read the sign. DO NOT DISTURB."
"No problem." MAKA.
Maka shuts the door behind her and casually turns the lock. She kicks her shoes off as she waltzes towards him, eyes everywhere but on him.
"Did you read my message?" Soul asks curiously. "I have a meeting."
"I know," Maka replies snottily. "I'm not here for YOU."
Soul scoffs. "Right. What are you here for, then?"
"I'm here for me," she says, walking around him.
Soul squints at her. "Uh. What?"
"Don't mind me," she says, primly sitting on the cabinet behind him. "I wouldn't want to interrupt you."
Curious but desperate to meet his deadline, Soul shakes his head and turns back to his work. He barely picks up his pen when he hears her.
"I love watching you work."
There is a mysterious heat in her words and he finds himself glancing over his shoulder. His eyes nearly pop out of his skull and he is witness to his boss/best friend/girlfriend pulling down the tights from under her skirt.
"What are you doing?!" he sputters.
She casts aside her nude tights and settles back onto the cabinet, her hands guiding her knees apart.
"Nothing," Maka says innocently. "Keep working."
His drops his pen somewhere into the void as he watches her run her hands up and down her thighs, pushing her skirt up a bit more with each stroke.
"Maka," he says in a low voice, swiveling in his chair to face her all the way.
She stops her ministrations with a frown. "I thought you were busy."
"I am, but-"
"Turn around and keep working." It's a voice he's growing familiar with; it's one she uses in the dead of night, when they're completely alone and the fire in their bellies can't be contained.
Slowly, he turns back to his desk, eyes on his paperwork, but the words remain unread.
"You make me miss you," she whispers. "It's not fair."
He listens to the soft shift of clothing and a rush of heat invades his body.
His grip tightens on the arms of his desk chair, the leather creaks under his fingers.
"You're so focused, your mouth gets all pouty." She lets out a soft sigh and it's nothing to cover the sound of snapping elastic.
A scrap of fabric hits him in the side of the face and lands on his shoulder. He plucks it between two fingers and crumples it in his hand upon recognizing her pink polkadot printed panties she put on this morning.
"Oops," she says from behind him.
He dares to peek over his shoulder, just one more time he swears, just to see.
Maka's skirt is pushed all the way to her hips, one leg propped on the cabinet, the other dangling, bare toes scraping the carpet. She holds herself in place with one hand behind her, her weight bared there. The other hand, with it's neatly manicured nails, uses one finger to trace her shining wet slit.
Soul spins around in his swiveling desk chair, clambering to get closer to her.
Mak rubs one finger up and down her wet slit, pausing around her clit.
"I miss your mouth here."
Soul leaps from his chair and drops to his knees, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth.
"Nuh-uh", she clicks her tongue and presses the heel of her shoe against his chest, pushing him back into his chair. "You're too busy, remember?"
He sinks back, glued to the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. His cock, already hard for her, twitches under his straining dress pants but his hands return to the arm rests.
Waiting.
She pulls her long, long leg back, resting the side of her knee against the cabinet.
"Good," she says, pleased, and returns her glistening fingers to work.
Soul licks his lips, tongue aching to replace that beautiful hand.
Maka's head makes a quiet thunk against the back cabinet, her mouth open as she slips a finger inside.
Soul strains to feel her, leaning forward unconsciously.
Maka's eyes open to slits and she smiles. "Come closer," she commands. "But don't touch."
The wheels of his chair skitter across the hardwood floor as Soul chases the heat of her. He's close enough to smell her arousal; saliva pools in his mouth.
"You're so good," Maka hisses, slipping another finger inside. "I can come just thinking about you; your skin, your hands, your tongue, your soul."
His hand, as if on its own, comes to the top of her foot. Maka jerks violently, his soft touch making her temperature rise.
"Yes," she gasps. "Yes, please help me."
Soul slides his hand up her leg, slow, so slow, around her calf, over her knee, caressing the soft skin of her thigh. He reaches the wet crease where her leg meets her body and he can't resist leaning forward to taste. Maka throws her head back and clamps her free hand on his shoulder, tipping precariously to the side. Soul catches her dangling leg before she falls too far off of her perch, bringing her leg over his shoulder, her right thigh pressing against his ear.
"Help me, Soul." Maka moans his name like it's the last word she ever wants to say, and Soul wants to make sure she can't say anything else until he's done with her.
Soul gently tugs Maka's furiously working hand from her soaking cunt. Maka groans from the loss and glares down at Soul. He grins and brings her hand to his mouth, kissing one finger tip at a time before placing the middle one all the way into his mouth and sucking hard.
Maka quakes at the sensation, her knee knocking against the cabinet next to her.
She takes her hand from his mouth and places it on his head, so she can grip his hair like reins, and guides his mouth closer to where she needs it most.
"Please," she says quietly, almost like a question, so unlike herself.
Soul happily obliges. His hands grip her hips and tilt her until her slit is readily available for him to enjoy. He takes a moment to thank whatever gods allowed him access to such a delectable meal before diving forward.
Maka's hand tightens in his hair and his tongue traces her soft lips, the trim hair tickling his tongue. He traces her opening with the very tip, barely a whisper on her heated flesh.
"Mmmm more," Maka moans, and Soul gives her a long lick, his tongue flat. Maka hisses out a breath and her hips shake as traces circles around her clit.
Ever in charge, his angel boss, Maka demands, "Soul, your hands, please!"
Well, Soul WAS employee of the month. Twice.
He pushes two fingers inside, marveling at her wet heat, and he pumps them in and out, his tongue still teasing her swollen sex.
She presses his face more firmly against her soaked skin as she gets closer to the edge, her hips moving against his mouth erratically.
"Come on, my meister," he mouths against her skin. It's the name she chose, whispered in the dark night, when his hands choked her headboard, still as she commanded, he her faithful servant.
"Come," he repeats, giving her clit a hard suck, his fingers curling deep inside of her. Maka's entire body stiffens, a long low moan escaping from deep within her, and he can almost see her soul as she comes.
He presses ghosting kisses on the flushed skin of her thigh as she comes down from her high. Her head lolls to the side, her relaxed smile for him only. She slides down from her perch and straddles his hips with her knees, sinking into his lap. Her hands in his hair, she angles his head to her liking and kisses him, slow and deep, her tongue sliding against his as he opens his mouth for her.
Maka's hands slide down his face, then his chest, and finally, finally reach the tent in the front of his pants. Her fingers pause at the top bottom. She pulls back from his lips and presses her forehead against his, asking with a silent tug.
"Please," Soul whispers, echoing her earlier words. "Please."
Maka pops open the button with eager, practiced ease. She makes quick work of his zipper and shoves his pants down, Soul doing his part with a helpful wiggle. She reaches into the fly of his boxers and pulls his erection free. Her touch makes the blood rush to his dick and his face, the time for thinking about meetings and presentations far gone.
Maka wraps her hand around him fully, stroking hard and fast.
"Don't want you to be late," she whispers into his ear, and traces the shell of his ear with her tongue. Soul pushes his heated face into her neck, his hips thrusting into her hand. His hands slip under her neat white shirt, hands pressing against her back. He holds her as close as he can, his dick between them, hot and hard in her hand.
Her teeth scrape his earlobe and he's gone, coming all over her hands and their clothes, his lips attached to her neck, bruising her skin.
When his breathing returns to normal he raises his head to meet her lips with his, lazily sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. He releases it with a pop and she giggles, sagging against him, tired and sated.
They're still for a moment, enjoying each other's warmth.

BEEEEEEEP

Soul groans as Maka sluggishly reaches behind him, peering at his phone.
"You're late," she says. "Oops."