DESIRE AND LUST
Desire And Lust – Chapter 17&18
{°° Forbidden Desire °°}
©Lana
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Fatima sniffed, wiping her tears. She looked at him, a small, sad smile spreading across her lips.
“So tell me this… Let’s forget about that night. My question is—what about all those years we spent together? Do they all mean nothing to you, Charlie?”
Mr. Kings leaned back slightly, his jaw tight, eyes sharp.
“Years?” he scoffed, his voice low and flat. “You talk about them like we were building something real.”
Fatima blinked, her heart dropping.
He continued, “You were convenient. You were there. That’s all.”
Her lips parted slightly in disbelief, but no words came.
“Stop pretending like we were some tragic love story, Fatima,” he added coldly. “You played your role, and I played mine. It ended the moment you thought you could turn it into something more.”
Fatima stepped back, as if physically hit.
“Why are you being so cruel?” she whispered.
“Because kindness gives people hope. And you need to stop hoping for something that was never there,” he said, turning away from her without another glance.
Fatima wiped her tears roughly, her chest rising and falling as she fought back sobs. She couldn’t let him leave—not like this. Not when she still felt everything so deeply. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she approached him.
“Charlie, please,” she whispered, voice cracking.
Mr. Kings stood frozen, his back still turned. His posture was tense, unreadable.
Fatima reached out, placing her trembling hands on his chest. She looked up at him, tears streaming freely. “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Don’t walk away from me. You can’t just erase everything we had.”
He exhaled slowly, then gently removed her hands from his chest. Turning to face her, his expression was stone cold, eyes sharp with frustration.
“Stop this, Fatima,” he said, his voice low and firm. “How long are you going to keep playing this game? I’m tired of it. It’s pathetic.”
She flinched at the word.
“I’m not interested. This… whatever it was—it’s over. It’s been over,” he added darkly.
Fatima shook her head, voice desperate. “Please, Charlie, you mean everything to me. We can fix this. I know we can. Just give us another chance—please.”
Mr Kings stared at her in disbelief, ..
“There was never an *us*, Fatima,” he said coldly. “There’s nothing to fix. It ended before it ever truly began.”
Fatima stared at him, wondering if he had truly never felt *anything* for her. Her mind drifted back to the nights they’d spent together—moments that had meant everything to her. Was it all just in her head? Had she been delusional to believe there was something real between them?
No matter how cold he looked at her now, no matter how cruel his words were, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him.
Mr. Kings took a slow breath, his eyes fixed on her with restrained contempt.
“You know what I hate the most in a woman?” he said, his voice low and sharp. “Women who throw themselves at me. It fucken disgusts me. It’s the biggest turn-off.”
He stepped closer, each word hitting her like a blow.
“And that’s exactly what you keep doing, Fatima. Throwing yourself at me like some f+king desperate fool. It’s pathetic. All of this is… f+king nonsense. I wish you’d stop.”
Fatima stood frozen, the sting of his words sinking deep. They hurt—more than anything he had ever said to her—but still, she couldn’t walk away. She couldn’t stop wanting him, no matter how much it tore her apart.
“I don’t care,” she whispered. “If this is disgusting… if *I’m* disgusting, then so be it. I still want you. No matter what you say, no matter how much you push me away—I want you.”
Mr. Kings sighed, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration.
“Can you just stop?” he muttered. “I’m so damn tired of this. There is nothing,between us. There never was. Just fucken sit down and accept that.”
“I can’t just accept that… okay? I just can’t.”
She held his hands tightly, her grip desperate.
“What changed, huh? You said you never wanted me, but it wasn’t always like this, Charlie. What changed? Is it her? Is it that fucking PA of yours? Ever since she came into the picture… everything changed.”
Her voice cracked, rising with frustration and heartbreak.
“You started acting like I didn’t exist. You stopped touching me, stopped wanting me. It’s because of her, isn’t it? Huh? Tell me!”
Mr. Kings shook his head, exhaling deeply, his face unreadable and cold. He looked utterly drained, emotionally checked out.
“It’s you, Fatima. No one else is to blame for this.”
His voice was calm, but every word landed like a slap.
“You need to understand that *nothing* is going to happen between us. Just fucking accept it and move on. This… this is fucking pathetic.”
He stepped away from her.
A broken sob escaped Fatima as he walked out, not sparing her a single glance.
She collapsed to her knees, her legs giving out beneath her. A piercing scream tore from her throat, raw and full of anguish. Her hands trembled violently as they tangled in her hair, pulling at the roots. The lingerie that once made her feel powerful now clung to her body like a suffocating cage.
Her breaths came out in ragged gasps, eyes wild, tears streaming freely down her face.
“YOU ARE MINE!” she shrieked, her voice echoing through the empty space.
“I WILL NEVER LET ANYONE TAKE YOU AWAY FROM ME. NEVER… NEVER… NEVER!”
Her body rocked back and forth, consumed by a storm of obsession and heartbreak, the line between love and madness completely shattered.
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*Inside Mr. Kings’s Car*
Mr. Kings sat behind the wheel, jaw clenched, muttering under his breath as his mind take him back to the things that happened in Fatima’s house, ..
“F+k, Charlie… how the hell did you get yourself into this mess?” he said to himself, frustration evident in his voice.
He grabbed his phone, noticing a messages and missed calls from Ana. He sighed heavily.
“F+k,” he muttered again, swiping it away. Instead, he dialed Ali’s number.
It rang only once before Ali picked up.
“Hello? What’s up, man?” Ali’s voice came through casually.
“Hey, can you go to the office and tell Ana to head home? I won’t make it there now,” Mr. Kings said, trying to keep his voice level.
“Got it. But what’s going on, man?” Ali asked, clearly picking up on the tension.
Mr. Kings closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead, trying to gather himself.
“I’ll explain later. Just tell her it’s late and I said she can go home. We’ll pick everything up tomorrow,” he said as he started the car.
“Alright, I’ll let her know,” Ali replied.
❄️ At E.K ❄️
Ana dialed Mr. Kings’s number again, but it just rang and rang without an answer. She sighed in frustration. Where was he?
“He should have at least told me where he was going… ugh!” she muttered, almost shouting. Dropping her phone on the desk, she sank into her chair and opened the files stacked in front of her. Signing papers helped distract her for a while, but after thirty minutes she reached for her phone again, hoping for a missed call. Nothing.
Ana shook her head in disappointment. Did he forget he had a meeting at three? She glanced at the clock—and her eyes widened. One minute to five.
“What?” she gasped to no one in particular, just as a knock came at the door.
“Come in,” she called.
“Ali!” she said in surprise when she saw him.
“Hello, Ana. Long time,” Ali greeted warmly.
She rose to her feet and hugged him before they both sat down.
“What are you doing here?” Ana asked with a smile. Ali was more like a brother than a colleague to her.
“I missed you,” Ali teased.
Ana rolled her eyes.
“Well, your boss said he saw your missed calls. He told me to let you know you should go home.”
“Where is he?” Ana pressed. “He had a meeting, and he didn’t even show up.”
“He got busy. Just go home,” Ali said gently.
Ana nodded, though the unanswered questions gnawed at her. Why had he disappeared without saying a word?
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Ten minutes later, Ana stepped into the elevator, her mind still tangled with thoughts of Mr. Kings. She pressed the button, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes, sighing softly.
The elevator pinged open. Her eyes shot open—only to see him.
“Mr. Kings…” she breathed, stunned.
At the same moment, he stepped in. His dark gaze locked onto hers, sharp and unyielding. Before she could move, he closed the space between them in two strides and pressed her back against the corner wall.
“Sir…” Her protest was cut off when his mouth crashed onto hers.
The kiss was searing, dominant—claiming. Her chest thudded wildly as his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her deeper into him. His lips moved with raw hunger, and Ana, lost in the storm, kissed him back just as fiercely. Their mouths battled, tongues entwining, heat sparking like fire.
Mr. Kings growled low in his throat as his hands gripped her waist, then trailed lower, seizing her ass and yanking her closer against his hard body. Ana gasped into the kiss, her knees nearly giving way as she felt the heavy press of his ar0usal against her stomach.
Her mind screamed at her to stop, but her body betrayed her…
Ana moaned softly again as the kiss grew deeper, more intense. Her stomach fluttered at the feel of his hard cock pressing against her.
Then her eyes widened.
That’s when it hit her—what was she doing? This was her boss, not her boyfriend. Why was he kissing her all of a sudden? And why was she kissing him back? She had a boyfriend, for goodness’ sake—and so did he. But then why was she clinging to him, kissing him back with such desperation? What was wrong with her? This was so wrong… yet it felt so good.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered between the kiss, as his hands roamed over her ass, gripping her hard, dominant, possessive.
*”This is not right!”* she screamed in her head before suddenly pushing him away, her breath shallow and uneven. Her face flushed a deep pink, and she quickly licked her lips before daring to meet Mr. Kings’s gaze.
His eyes were dark, clouded with hunger and unspoken desire.
She removed his hand from around her waist, her chest still rising and falling quickly.
“You kissed me. Why?” she demanded, her voice rising in confusion and anger.
Mr. Kings didn’t flinch. “You kissed me back,” he shot back, his tone cool and unapologetic, as if the consequences meant nothing to him.
They stared at each other—one pair of eyes blazing with fury, the other gleaming with amusement and something more dangerous, something unspoken.
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