The following day at the office, Gabriel couldn't help but stare at Marinette as she moved around the room. Her cute skirt swished around her legs, giving him glimpses of her panties, and her blouse was tight across her chest, outlining the shape of her bra. He felt his cock stir, his thoughts drifting to the previous night and the games they had played. He decided that he needed to make her his personal assistant, to have her closer to him, to manipulate her into giving him what he wanted.
"Marinette," he called, his voice thick with desire. "Could you come into my office?"
Marinette looked up, her cheeks flushing at the sound of his voice. She knew what he was thinking, could see the hunger in his eyes. She had to play it cool, had to keep her secret identity hidden. She walked over, her hips swaying slightly, her breasts bouncing with each step. She felt his gaze on her, and it sent a thrill through her body.
"Yes, Monsieur Agreste?" she asked, her voice a soft purr.
Gabriel's eyes roamed over her, taking in every inch of her. The way her blouse clung to her breasts, the curve of her waist, the way her skirt hugged her ass—it was all driving him wild. He knew he had to act carefully, had to make his move without revealing his true intentions.
"I need you to work closely with me on a...special project," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "You'll be my personal assistant from now on."
Marinette's heart skipped a beat. She knew what he was after, but she had to keep playing the game. "Of course, Monsieur Agreste," she said, her voice innocent and sweet. "What do you need me to do?"
Gabriel's mind raced with the possibilities. He could feel his cock throb in his pants at the thought of her innocent touch. Gabriel's eyes followed her every movement, his mind racing with images of her body, of her sweet pussy. "I need... I need you to work late with me tonight," he said, his voice strained. "There are some... sensitive documents that need to be handled with care."
Marinette felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine as she took in Gabriel's expression. His eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy. She knew he was thinking of her, his body craving the release she had denied him as Ladybug yesterday. She had to keep her cool, had to keep the act going.
"I'll do my best, Monsieur Agreste," she said, her voice a sweet promise. She could see his cock stirring beneath his desk, the fabric of his pants straining against his erection. The sight of it made her own pussy wet, the thought of being the cause of his desperation a thrilling rush.
Gabriel's mind was racing. He had to have her, had to taste her sweetness, feel her body against his. He knew he couldn't do it in public, not yet. But as her boss, the powerful fashion designer, he could make her his. He could bend her to his will, make her beg for his touch.
As she turned to leave, she 'accidentally' dropped her pen. Knowingly, she slowly started bending over at the waist and giving him a perfect view down her shirt. He could see the outline of her bra, a tiny scrap of fabric that did nothing to hide the fact that she was completely bare beneath it. The sight of her breasts, perfectly round and plump, made him groan inwardly, his cock jumping in his pants. He had to have her, had to feel her warmth, her wetness, her sweetness.
Just as she stood up, she "clumsily" dropped her file with all her design ideas. "Guess I'm all butterfingers today," she said.
He watched as she bent over to pick up the file, her skirt riding up to reveal the top of her stockings and the bottom of her panties. The sight was almost too much to handle, and he had to grip the edge of his desk to keep from reaching out to her. His mind raced with scenarios, each one more depraved than the last. He knew he had to have her, had to claim her, to make her understand the depth of his desire.
Marinette stood, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she saw the effect she had on him. She knew she had the power to control him, to manipulate him into stopping his villainous ways. But as she saw the desperation in his eyes, she began to second-guess herself. Was this the right path to take? Could she handle the consequences of her actions?
"Mister Agreste, are you okay?" she asked, her voice a mix of innocence and seductive concern.
"I'm... I'm fine," he said, his voice strained. "We just have a lot of work to do."
He knew he had to keep his desires in check, at least for now. But the thought of her sweet, innocent body at his mercy was too tempting to ignore. He decided then and there that he would make Marinette his personal assistant. It would give him the perfect opportunity to be near her, to touch her, to taste her.
As the day progressed, he couldn't help but watch her every move. The way she leaned over her work, her breasts threatening to spill out of her blouse. The way her skirt hugged her hips, revealing the curve of her ass. And every time she walked past his desk, he caught a whiff of her sweet perfume, making his cock pulse with need. He had to have her, had to feel her warmth, her wetness, her... everything.
Finally, as the clock struck seven, slowly, everyone else in the office began to file out, leaving Gabriel and Marinette alone in the dimly lit room. His eyes were glued to her every move, his cock a constant reminder of the seductive power she wielded over him. She pretended not to notice, playing the innocent, clumsy intern to perfection silenting waiting for Gabriel to make his move on her toda.
"Marinette," he called out, his voice thick with desire, "Could you stay behind? There's something... important I need to discuss with you."
Marinette turned around, feigning surprise. "Oh, Monsieur Agreste, of course," she replied, her voice as sweet as honey. She took a deep breath, her heart racing as she approached his desk.
Gabriel's eyes traveled down her body, lingering on the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist, and the way her skirt clung to her hips. He could see her nipples pressing against the fabric of her blouse, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to reach out and touch her right there. Instead, he gestured for her to take a seat, his eyes never leaving her.
As she sat down, her skirt rode up, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her stocking-covered thighs. He swallowed hard, his cock straining against his pants. "Marinette," he began, his voice low and seductive, "I need you to do something for me."
Marinette's heart raced as she looked into his eyes. She knew what he was going to say, what he was going to ask. But she had to keep up the act, had to keep her secret. "Anything, Monsieur Agreste," she replied, her voice a soft purr.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving her. "I've noticed that you're... very attentive to detail," he said, his gaze lingering on her chest. "And I have a... personal project that requires such attention."
Marinette felt a thrill of excitement at his words. She knew he was hinting at something more than work. "What kind of project?" she asked, playing coy.
Gabriel leaned forward, his eyes on her face as he spoke. "It's... it's about the upcoming fashion line," he said, his voice thick with need. "I need you to model a few designs for me."
Marinette's heart raced in her chest as she took in the hunger in Gabriel's gaze. She knew what he was thinking, what he was planning, but she had to keep her cool. She had made the choice to seduce him, to distract him from his villainous intentions, but now, with the reality staring her in the face, she couldn't help but wonder if it was the right path to take. Her body was on fire with desire, her pussy aching for his touch, but her mind was a maelstrom of doubt and fear.
"I'd be happy to help, Monsieur Agreste," she said, her voice a soft purr that seemed to echo in the quiet office. She watched as he licked his lips, his eyes dark with lust. She knew she had him hooked, and the power was a heady rush.
Gabriel's cock throbbed painfully in his pants as he watched her. He couldn't believe how perfectly she played the innocent part, how her every move was calculated to drive him wild. He had to have her, had to claim her, to make her his. He stood up, his cock pushing against his pants, and walked around the desk, his eyes never leaving hers as he lead her to hiw private fitting room.
"Let's start with this one," he said, his voice a gruff whisper as he handed her a piece of paper with a list of clothing items on it.
Marinette took the paper, her hands trembling slightly. She knew what was coming, but she had to keep her cool. She had to keep playing the innocent game, even as her body betrayed her with its own desperate cravin. She looked down at the list, her eyes widening as she read through the items. Each one was more risque than the last, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement.
As she made her way to the fitting room, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was losing control. The power she had wielded easily as Ladybug was slipping away, replaced by a desperate need to feel wanted, to feel desired. She changed into the first outfit, a sheer, lacy negligee that left nothing to the imagination.
When she stepped out, Gabriel's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe the sight before him—his innocent little intern, dressed like a goddess of seduction. The negligee was so sheer that it was almost non-existent, the delicate lace barely covering her nipples, which were now pebbled with arousal. The fabric clung to her slender waist before flaring out over her hips, giving just a hint of the treasure that lay beneath. Her panties were a matching set, a tiny scrap of material that left nothing to the imagination.
"Marinette," he murmured, his voice thick with need, "you look... incredible."
Marinette felt his gaze on her like a physical touch, her body responding with a shiver of desire. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet, so powerful. She knew that she had him under her spell, that he would do anything for just one taste of her.
"Is this what you had in mind?" she asked, her voice a siren's whisper. She watched as he swallowed hard, his hand moving to adjust his now obvious erection.
"Y-yes," he stuttered, his eyes devouring her. "But we need to... to make sure it's comfortable. For the photoshoot, of course."
Marinette took a deep breath, her resolve wavering slightly. She knew what was happenin was wrong, but the power she had over him was too tempting to resist. She had to keep her secret identity as Ladybug, but the line between the two was becoming blurrier by the second.
"Turn around," Gabriel murmured, his eyes on her ass as she spun slowly, the fabric of the negligée fluttering around her hips. She watched him in the mirror, his hand moving to adjust his cock in his pants. "Perfect," he said, his voice strained. "Now, let's try some accessories."
He handed her a pair of high heels, and she slipped them on, the click-clack of her heels on the floor echoing in the quiet room. The shoes made her legs look even longer, and she knew that in the mirror, the view of her ass was even more tantalizing. She stepped closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"What do you think?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr.
Gabriel's eyes went dark with lust as he took in the sight of her. "I think," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "that we need to make sure you're comfortable in everything."
Marinette felt his hand on her waist, his thumb brushing against the bare skin above the negligé. The fabric was so thin she could feel the heat of his touch through it, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. He leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck as he whispered, "Let's make sure this fits just right."
Turning to face him, she stepped back, the fabric of her outfit clinging to her curves like a second skin. The way the light hit her, it was as if she were wearing nothing at all. She watched his eyes as they trailed over her body, lingering on the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the dampness between her legs that the flimsy panties did nothing to conceal. His pupils dilated, and she could see the struggle in his eyes—the battle between his desire for her and his need to maintain their professional relationship.
"You're... perfect," he managed to say, his voice a low growl. His hand moved up, brushing against the swell of her breasts. She gasped, her nipples tightening against the fabri. The negligée was designed to leave nothing to the imagination, and it was working perfectly. His thumb grazed the top of her areola, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning.
Marinette watched as his eyes took in every inch of her, the fabric of the lingerie highlighting the curve of her hips and the shadow of her pussy beneath. The g-string she wore did nothing to hide her arousal, the damp fabric clinging to her folds, leaving a clear outline of her excitement. She felt his gaze linger there, his hunger palpable.
Gabriel cleared his throat, his hand moving to the neckline of the negligée. "Let's make sure this is secure," he murmured, his fingers deftly adjusting the lace. His knuckles brushed against the soft mound of her breast, and she couldn't suppress the gasp that escaped her lips. His eyes shot up to meet hers, the hunger in them unmistakable. She took a deep breath, her heart racing as she watched him struggle to maintain his composure.
The next outfit was even more revealing—a tiny, red bustier that pushed her breasts up and together, creating an impossible amount of cleavage. The fabric was so thin it was almost transparent, leaving her nipples on full display. The matching thong was equally as scandalous, the thin strip of fabric barely covering her pussy, which was now visibly wet with anticipation. She stepped out of the changing room, her legs feeling wobbly in the stiletto heels, and into the bright lights of the makeshift runway.
Gabriel's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he took in the sight before him. Marinette's skin glowed with a soft, natural light, and her curves were accentuated in a way that made his mouth water. She looked like a living, breathing work of art, and he was the artist who had the privilege of sculpting her. His fingers itched to touch her, to see if she was as soft as she looked.
"Marinette, you're... breathtaking," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to adjust the strap of her bustier. It was a flimsy excuse, but he needed to feel her skin, to taste the sweetness of her innocence.
Marinette's heart pounded in her chest as she felt his hand on her shoulder. His touch was like a brand, searing her flesh and leaving her with a trail of fire wherever he went. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help herself. The way he looked at her, like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, made her feel alive. She leaned into his touch, her breath hitching as his fingers traced the line of her collarbone.
"Is this... acceptable?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. She knew it wasn't, but she also knew that she was playing a dangerous game. The tension in the room was thick, and she could feel it coiling around them like a snake ready to strike.
Gabriel swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "More than acceptable," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. His hand slid down her arm, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner elbow. "Let's see how the rest of the outfits look."
Marinette stepped back into the changing room, her mind racing. She had to keep her wits about her, had to remember her mission. But as she slipped on the next set of lingerie—a satin red, lacy number that left even less to the imagination—she found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the growing ache between her legs.
When she emerged again in the red lingerie, it was clear that it was designed to leave the viewer's imagination racing. The bra was a complex web of lace that barely contained her ample breasts, the cups pushed her flesh up and together, creating an allure that was both innocent and sinful. Her nipples were two dark peaks, straining against the fabric, and the thin strip of lace that ran between her breasts drew the eye straight down to her navel. The panties were a scandalously high-cut thong, the material hugging the curves of her hips and exposing the perfect, peachy cheeks of her ass.
Gabriel's eyes devoured every inch of her as she paraded down the makeshift runway, the fabric of his trousers straining against his growing erection. "Marinette," he murmured, his voice tight with desire, "you look absolutely... exquisite."
Marinette felt his gaze like a physical caress, her body responding with a flush of heat. She had never felt so exposed, so desired, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew that she was playing a dangerous game, but the thought of saving Paris was never far from her mind. If she could keep him satisfied, keep him from using his miraculous powers for evil, then maybe, just maybe, she could make a difference.
As she modeled the lingerie, Gabriel's touch grew bolder. He'd start with a simple adjustment to a strap or a hemline, but his fingers would linger, tracing the curve of her body as if memorizing every inch of her. His breath was hot on her neck as he leaned in to whisper suggestions, his hand sliding down her back to rest just above the waistband of her panties.
Marinette's pulse quickened with each touch, her body betraying her as she grew wetter and more aroused. She could feel his thumb brushing against the fabric of her panties, the pressure just shy of intimate, and she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping. She knew he could feel her heat, her desire, and she watched his eyes darken with lust as he took in the sight of her.
"I think we should try the next set," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "We need to make sure it fits perfectly."
The next set was even more daring—a lacy black number that left almost nothing to the imagination. The bra was a mere whisper of fabric, the cups so small they barely covered her nipples, which peeked out like two shy stars in the night sky. The panties were a mere scrap of material, the lace cutting high on her hips and leaving her pussy almost bare.
As she stepped out of the changing room, she saw the hunger in Gabriel's eyes, and she knew that he was barely hanging on to his self-control. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing the swell of her breast as he pretended to make an adjustment. The sensation sent a bolt of electricity straight to her core, and she couldn't help but arch into his touch.
"Marinette, my dear," he breathed, his voice thick with want, "you are a vision."
Marinette felt a thrill of power as she watched him struggle to keep his composure. She knew that she was driving him wild with her innocent seduction, and it was a heady feeling. She turned to face him, her hips swaying with each step, the fabric of the panties doing little to hide her arousal. She could feel his eyes on her, could almost feel his cock throbbing with need.
"Is this to your liking, Mr. Agreste?" she asked, her voice a siren's call.
Gabriel's eyes snapped up to meet hers, and she saw the raw hunger in them. "More than," he replied, his voice hoarse. "But I need to make sure it's... comfortable."
He stepped closer, his hand moving to the side of her waist. His touch was feather-light, but it sent waves of desire crashing through her body. She could feel his thumb brushing against the bare skin just above her panties, and she knew that he could feel her trembling.
"Perhaps if I... assisted," he murmured, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, his fingers digging into the flesh.
Marinette gasped, her eyes going wide with shock and pleasure. She could feel his cock pressing against her, the heat of it searing through the fabric of her panties. She knew that she was playing with fire, but the thrill was too great to resist.
"Mr. Agreste," she protested weakly, her voice a breathless whisper. "We should... we should get back to work."
Gabriel leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "I'm just making sure it fits," he murmured, his hand sliding lower, his fingertips brushing the top of her panties.
Marinette's body responded to his touch, her breath hitching in her throat. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she couldn't resist the thrill of it all. The power she had over him was intoxicating, and she found herself craving more of his attention, more of his touch.
"You're so beautiful, Marinette," he whispered, his hand sliding around to the front of her panties. She gasped as his thumb brushed against her clit, the fabric of the lingerie offering no barrier to his touch. "So, so beautiful."
Marinette felt a rush of wetness flood her panties as she looked into his eyes, her own dark with desire. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't stop herself. The feeling of his thumb circling her sensitive flesh was too much to resist. She leaned into his touch, her body begging for more.
The next outfit was even more provocative—a set of black lingerie that was more like a second skin than an article of clothing. The bra was a mere strip of fabric that pushed her breasts together, creating a deep, tantalizing valley between them. The panties were a string bikini that left the entirety of her ass exposed, the fabric barely covering her pussy.
As she stepped out in the scandalous outfit, she watched as Gabriel's control began to slip away. His hand was on her before she could even ask if he liked it, his fingertips tracing the line of her waist, his eyes glued to the curve of her ass.
"Marinette," he groaned, his hand moving down to cup her ass. "You're driving me mad."
Marinette felt a thrill of power as she watched him struggle with his desire. She knew that she was pushing the boundaries, but she couldn't help it. She wanted him to crave her, to need her like he had never needed anyone else.
"Is this what you had in mind?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr.
"More than I could have ever imagined," he replied, his voice tight with need.
Marinette stepped closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. She could feel the heat of his erection, the fabric of their clothes the only barrier between them. His hand slid up her back, his thumb tracing the line of her spine, sending shivers down her body.
"You're so... tempting," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to taste you, every inch of you."
Marinette felt her resolve crumble as she looked into his eyes. She knew that she should stop, that she was playing with fire, but she couldn't resist the temptation. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, her breath hot and needy.
Gabriel's control snapped. He crushed her to him, his mouth devouring hers as his hand slid into her panties, his fingers finding her wet, eager pussy. She moaned into his mouth, her hips bucking against his hand as he stroked her clit with a practiced touch.
Marinette knew that she had crossed a line, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. The feeling of his hand on her body, his mouth on hers, was too overwhelming. She had never felt so wanted, so desired, and she didn't want it to end.
As the minutes ticked by, their kiss grew more frantic, their touches more desperate. Marinette could feel the tension in the room, the anticipation building to a crescendo. She knew that she was playing with fire, but she was too far gone to stop now. She was going to give Gabriel everything he wanted, and in doing so, she would save Paris.
Gabriel's hand slid up to her bra, his thumb flicking over her nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She gasped, her back arching as she pushed herself closer to him. He took the hint, his other hand reaching behind her to unclasp the flimsy contraption. Her breasts spilled out, and he groaned as he took them in his hands, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks.
Marinette felt the heat of his touch through the fabric of the skimpy lingerie, her body reacting instinctively to his every caress. Each time he adjusted a strap or smoothed out a seam, his fingertips lingered, leaving a trail of fire on her skin. The lingerie was designed to leave her almost bare, the bra cups so small that they barely contained her breasts, pushing them together in a way that made her cleavage deep and alluring. The panties were a mere scrap, the lace barely covering her pussy and leaving the curve of her ass fully exposed. She knew that her state of undress was driving him wild, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of power at his loss of control.
"Marinette," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers, "you're so... tempting."
Her heart raced as she felt his hand move lower, his thumb brushing the damp fabric of her panties. She was wet for him, her body betraying her even as she tried to maintain her innocent façade. She knew that she was playing a dangerous game, but she had to keep him distracted, had to keep him from using his miraculous powers for evil.
"Let's see how the next one looks," he said, his voice tight with restrained desire.
Marinette stepped back into the changing room, her thoughts racing. She had to keep her cool, had to remember her mission. But as she slipped into the next set of lingerie—a sheer, white number that left her feeling more naked than ever before—she found it increasingly difficult to ignore the ache between her legs.
When she stepped out, the fabric of the bra was so sheer it was practically invisible, her nipples standing at attention, begging to be kissed. The panties were a thong, the strip of fabric so thin it was almost non-existent, leaving her pussy open and exposed. Gabriel's eyes were like twin flames, burning into her, and she knew that he was thinking the same thing she was—how much he wanted to taste her, to claim her.
"You're perfect," he murmured, his hand reaching out to adjust the strap of the bra. His fingertips grazed the side of her breast, and she couldn't suppress the moan that escaped her lips.
"Is it... comfortable?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Very," he replied, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip. His thumb brushed the edge of her panties, and she could feel his hunger, his need.
Marinette took a deep breath, her body trembling with anticipation. She had never felt so alive, so desired, and it was intoxicating. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't resist the heat.
"Mr. Agreste," she began, her voice a soft whisper, "we really should—"
But he cut her off with a kiss, his mouth claiming hers with a ferocity that left her breathless. His hand slid up her side, cupping her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple. She moaned into his mouth, her body arching into his touch. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with lust as he stared down at her.
"Call me Gabriel," he murmured, his hand over into her panties.
Marinette gasped as his fingers hovered over her clit, stroking it with a slow, deliberate touch that had her hips bucking against him. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet she had never felt more powerful. She knew that she had him exactly where she wanted him, and she was going to use that power to save the city she loved.
Gabriel's eyes never left hers as he played with her, his thumb circling her clit as his fingers slid deeper into her pussy. She was so wet, so ready for him, and he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled her closer, his erection pressing against her stomach as he whispered in her ear.
"I need you, Marinette," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "I need to be inside you."
Marinette felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized that the moment of truth had come. She had to make a choice—give in to her own desires and potentially compromise her mission, or keep her distance and risk losing control of the situation. The scent of Gabriel's cologne filled the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of her own arousal, and she knew that the decision was going to be harder than she had ever imagined.
"Marinette," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck, "you're driving me wild."
Her eyes closed, and she leaned into his touch, letting out a soft moan as his fingers danced over her skin. The fabric of the lingerie was almost nonexistent, the lace of the bra doing little to cover her erect nipples, which poked out like two stiff peaks, begging to be sucked and nibbled. The panties were a mere whisper of silk, leaving her pussy barely covered, the dampness seeping through and painting a clear picture of her desire.
Gabriel's hand slid down to her panties, his thumb brushing against her clit through the fabric. She gasped, her eyes flying open to meet his. The hunger in his gaze was unmistakable, and she felt a thrill of fear and excitement as she realized that she was the one in control.
"Please," she whispered, her voice shaking. "We need to stop."
But even as she said the words, she didn't mean them. Her body was screaming for his touch, for his kiss, for his cock. She had never felt so alive, so desired, and she knew that she was playing with fire, but she couldn't resist the heat.
"Gabriel," she moaned, her hips rocking against his hand. She could feel his erection, thick and hard against her stomach, and she knew that he was just as lost in the moment as she was.
He stepped closer, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was anything but innocent. His tongue slid into her mouth, claiming her, as his hand moved to cup her ass. She moaned into his mouth, her body begging for more as he touched her in ways she had never been touched before.
Marinette knew that she was playing a dangerous game, but the power she had over him was too intoxicating to resist. She leaned into his kiss, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as she ground her hips against his han. The fabric of the panties was so thin that she could feel the heat of his erection through it, and she knew that she had him exactly where she wanted him.
"Gabriel," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr, "we should really get back to work."
But even as she said the words, she didn't mean them. The desire in her voice was clear, and she watched as his eyes darkened, his hand sliding down to cup her ass more firmly.
"Marinette," he murmured, his voice thick with need, "you're so beautiful."
Marinette stepped back, her hands sliding down her body to adjust the bra strap. She knew that the movement pushed her breasts up even further, creating a tantalizing view of her cleavage. She watched as his gaze followed the path of her hands, his eyes lingering on the swell of her breasts.
"Thank you," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "But we really should—"
But she was cut off as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of her jaw. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his thumb stroked the sensitive skin just below her ear.
"You're so tempting," he said, his voice low and gruff. "I can't resist you."
Marinette felt a thrill of fear and excitement as she realized that she had pushed him to his breaking point. She knew that she had to be careful, had to keep her wits about her, but the feel of his hand on her skin was too much to resist.
"Mr. Agreste," she began, her voice trembling.
But he silenced her with another kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth as his hand slid down to her panties. She gasped as his fingers brushed against her pussy, the fabric of the lingerie providing no barrier to his touch.
Marinette felt her body respond, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she moaned into his mouth. She knew that she was playing with fire, that she was risking everything, but she couldn't help it. The feeling of his hand on her, his mouth on hers, was too much to resist.
Gabriel's other hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple through the sheer fabric of the bra. She felt a bolt of pleasure shoot through her body, and she knew that she was playing with fire. But she couldn't stop.
"Marinette," he murmured against her lips, "you're so wet for me."
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire as she pulled away, panting. She looked down at herself, the wetness of her panties clearly visible through the façade of the lace. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but the power she held over him was intoxicating. "Mr. Agreste," she began, her voice a soft protest, but her eyes were filled with invitation.
Gabriel took a step back, his hand sliding out of her panties as if he had been burned. "Forgive me, Marinette," he murmured, his eyes dark with need. "I got... carried away."
Marinette's heart raced as she watched him struggle to compose himself. She knew that she had him right where she wanted him—on the edge of control. She took a deep breath, her hand sliding up to her hair, pushing it back from her flushed face. "It's okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's just... keep going."
The final set was a daring black number—a bra that was nothing more than a series of straps and a thong that left her ass cheeks bare. As she stepped out, she watched him swallow hard, his hand moving to adjust the strap that barely contained her breasts.
"Marinette," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "you're... stunning."
Marinette felt a surge of power as she watched him struggle with his self-control. She knew that she had him in the palm of her hand, and she was going to use that power to save Paris.
"Is it what you had in mind?" she asked, her voice a coy whisper.
Gabriel's hand slid down her side, his thumb grazing the fabric of her thong. "More than I could have ever imagined," he said, his voice hoarse with need.
Marinette stepped closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Gabriel," she murmured, "I think we're done for today."
His eyes snapped up to hers, the hunger in them unmistakable. "But I haven't even started," he growled, his hand sliding into her thong.
Marinette gasped as his thumb brushed the sensitive skin just above her panties, sending a shiver down her spine. The fabric of the thong was so thin, it was as if it wasn't even there, and she could feel the heat of his hand through it. The way the lingerie hugged her curves was both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving her feeling more exposed than she ever had before. The bra, a complex web of black lace, pushed her breasts together, creating an alluring display of cleavage that made her feel both powerful and vulnerable.
Gabriel's eyes were glued to her chest, his breathing shallow and erratic. She watched as his gaze traveled down to the strip of fabric that barely covered her sex, and she knew he was picturing what lay beneath. His hand slid down further, his fingertips brushing against the damp lace, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her stomach, and she knew that he was just as lost in the moment as she was.
"Marinette," he murmured, his eyes never leaving her body, "turn around."
Marinette complied, her heart racing as she presented her back to him. She felt his hands on her shoulders, gentl at first, then sliding down to her waist, his thumbs tracing the edge of the bra. The fabric was so sheer that she knew he could see the outline of her areolae, the dark circles of her nipples. She could feel his breath hot against her skin, his desire palpable.
"Gabriel," she began, her voice shaking, "I don't think—"
But he cut her off with a kiss, his hands sliding around her waist to cup her ass. She could feel the fabric of her panties stretching as he squeezed, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of her cheek. She moaned into his mouth, her body responding despite her best efforts to resist.
Marinette felt his hand move down the back of her panties, his fingertips tracing the crease of her ass. She knew that she was playing a dangerous game, but she couldn't help the way her body was reacting to his touch. She leaned back into him, her own hands sliding up to his chest.
"Gabriel," she murmured against his lips, "I... I can't."
But his hand continued its exploration, sliding lower until his thumb was circling her pussy. She gasped, her eyes flying open as she felt his finger slip inside her. He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her own.
"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with triumph. "You want this just as much as I do."
Marinette's body was on fire, her thoughts a jumble of lust and fear. She knew that she had to stop him, had to keep her focus on her mission. But as his thumb slid in and out of her, she found it increasingly difficult to think straight.
"Mr. Agreste," she protested, her voice a mere whisper, "we can't do this."
But his mouth was on her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh. His other hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple. She couldn't help but arch into his touch, her body betraying her.
"Please," she gasped, her hips rocking against his hand. "We have to stop."
But even as she said the words, she knew that she didn't mean them. Her body was begging for his touch, for his cock. She was so wet, so ready for him, and she knew that she was playing with fire.
Marinette stepped back, her breath coming in short gasps. "I... I need to go," she said, her voice shaking.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding out of her panties. "Very well," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But this isn't over."
Marinette knew that he was right. The battle of wills had just begun, and she was determined to come out on top. She slipped back into her clothes, the fabric feeling almost suffocating after the sensual freedom of the lingerie. She had to keep her cool, had to keep her mission in mind, no matter how much her body begged for his touch.
As they walked back to the office, she couldn't help but feel the heat of his gaze on her, his eyes lingering on the curves she had so blatantly displayed. She knew she had him hooked, but she had to be careful not to reel him in too quickly. She had to play this just right.
Gabriel's thoughts were a whirlwind of desire and frustration. He had never felt so out of control in his life, and it was all because of this young intern. Her innocence was like a drug, making him crave her even more. He knew that he had to have her, had to feel her body wrapped around his, her soft moans filling his ears. But he also knew that he had to tread carefully, to not scare her away.