Pleasing Sir
By Delilah Devlin
Published by Delilah Devlin at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Delilah Devlin
This eBook is not transferable.
It cannot be resold, shared or given away because that will be considered an infringement on the copyright for this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Delilah’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.
Dedication
To anyone who’s ever had a crush on the man in charge…
Chapter One
The little red button on the telephone blinked twice. And like a dog trained to recognize the shake of its dinner bowl, Raelie Wood’s attention was arrested.
Deep within her core, her body began the steady ascent toward full-blown arousal. A thousand butterflies settled in her stomach, madly fluttering their tiny wings. Her breaths shortened to excited little gasps and shivered through her breasts. The juncture of her thighs swelled with lush promise—a pulse thrumming there, slow but insistent.
She’d waited two whole days for a summons. Two days while she’d quietly attended to the office duties, proving why she’d been bumped up from the floating secretarial staff to fill in for Bryce Caldwell’s executive assistant while the woman was away on her honeymoon.
Raelie had seen to every duty on his EA’s meticulous checklist. This morning, she’d already typed the scribbled notes he’d left in her inbox the previous night when he’d finally left the office. Not that she’d seen him leave.
Because she didn’t want to seem overeager, she’d left her desk at precisely five o’clock each evening. Even though she’d wanted nothing more than to stay late, strip naked, and slip into her boss’s office to show just how diligent a secretary she could be.
The thought of his shocked stare trailing down her nude body was a delicious one; however, she knew that wasn’t the way to get what she wanted from her no-nonsense employer. For once, she’d exercise a little subtlety.
The light blinked again, and her gut clenched. Time to start the next stage of her campaign.
She gathered her pad and pencil and quietly strode to his closed door. Just before she opened it, she slipped the left side strap of her bra off her shoulder from beneath her neat white sleeveless blouse. Ready now, she gripped the knob with a sweaty hand.
Her boss sat behind his desk, his face tilted toward whatever report he scanned, but looking as yummy as ever. Remote, cool…in control. She wondered if he looked as effortlessly powerful and together when he rolled out of bed in the morning, or if he donned that cool, professional persona the same way he did his designer clothing.
Watching the way his lips thinned into a firm, straight line as he read, she imagined that same stern look as he stood over her while she knelt with her hands clasped behind her back. A smile teased her lips. Heat pricked her nipples.
The restraint of the last few days broke. Despite the EA’s note about him disliking meaningless chatter, her mouth opened and a breathless “How may I serve you, sir?” floated from her lips.
Bryce forced himself not to react to the tantalizing phrase which pretty much summed up exactly what he wanted from the woman—service. A month’s worth ought to get her out of his system. A textile-free month where nothing but their sweat and his cum came between their bodies.
From beneath his eyelashes, Bryce saw the tiny smile Miss Wood quickly suppressed and wondered what had amused her. He cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the young woman whose cheeks flushed a pretty rose as she took her seat in front of his desk.
Morgan hadn’t been wrong. His business partner had been the one to suggest the slender blonde fill in for Kathryn. Miss Wood was competent enough, easy on the eye, but there was something a little extra, something intriguing about the woman whose body didn’t fidget nervously beneath his stare.
Yeah, he had to hand it to Morgan—his friend could spot a woman ripe for a little training from a mile away. The chance to spend time subtly observing her, testing her, was one he hadn’t been able to resist. He’d been without a woman too long. Procuring just the right partner had proven a little more complicated than he’d imagined. Who would have guessed that finding an unruly submissive would prove such a challenge?
His glance raked her from head to foot quickly and with discretion, because he wasn’t ready to betray his interest. Straight California-blonde hair was pulled into a loose knot at the back of her head, making her look like a high school girl playing dress-up for the prom. Cute and neat, professionally groomed, still he would have preferred to see her hair fall to the middle of her shoulders or in a sexy ponytail—a handy rope he could use like reins as he rode her from behind. He pushed aside that thought because he knew it might be some time, perhaps never, before he earned that privilege.
As he assessed her appearance for more hints of an ability to pay attention to the details, he admired the way her grey pencil skirt kept her knees pushed demurely together. The crisply pressed, white sleeveless blouse was barely creased, her nylons a pleasing skin tone, her shoes a demure dark pump. Everything in its place—except for the lavender band sliding down her arm. His gaze snagged there for a moment.
“Was there something you needed, Mr. Caldwell?” she asked in her breathy little voice, which had him imagining her whispering just like that in his ear when he shafted deep. His cock swelled, and he eased apart his legs beneath his desk, smoothed his expression into a cool mask, and met her wide blue gaze.
A glint of something sparkled there for just a moment. Long enough to warn him that not all was what it seemed with the delightful Miss Wood. Because he didn’t think well when he was aroused and worse when he was sitting, he pushed off his chair and began to pace. “Have you arranged Cafferty’s showing?”
“For four PM, sir. Rance Cafferty said the client was in town and would accompany him this time to take a look at the office space.”
“Good, good.” He stepped around his desk to pace the length of his office to the door and back. “We’ll want his approval before we proceed with offering the rest of the spaces. His client has first priority.” He turned his gaze when he passed close.
She kept her head bent toward her notepad, white teeth sinking softly into the center of her bottom lip.
He strode closer on the second circuit and stopped beside her.
She glanced up, her baby blues skimming up his abdomen to his chest before reaching his face. Pink blossomed again in the center of her cheeks.
“Did you set the meeting with the plaza crew?” he murmured, enjoying watching her from above, envisioning more intimate moments when her face would be level with his hips. “We’re making changes in our suppliers and need to make sure it doesn’t affect our delivery date.”
She blinked once then dropped her gaze and turned her notepad over. She trailed a finger down the copy of the schedule she’d printed to have on hand, just as he insisted Kathryn always do. “The meeting’s set for Thursday at five. Morgan said he’d have the site foreman and the lead electrician there.”
She called his partner “Morgan”, but reserved “Mr. Caldwell” for him. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. His brain looped on the thought. Then his gaze fell again to the purple strap, and because he was becoming impatient with his lapses, he slid a finger up her arm and tucked the silky ribbon back inside her blouse.
Raelie froze as his finger trailed upward. Then she quivered when he slipped the strap beneath her clothing. He had to have felt it too, but he turned on his heel and resumed pacing, firing off notes which she jotted down, only half her mind employed while the other was giddy with delight.
He’d touched her. Corrected a mistake. And he’d done it without thinking too much about it, apparently, because he’d finished speaking and was giving her a steady stare that indicated she’d missed his signal to leave.
“I’ll just…um, go,” she said, rising and smoothing a hand down the side of her skirt to make sure it hadn’t ridden up.
She hurried out his office, wondering what had caused one corner of his mouth to curl. Her distraction? Had her eyes crossed dreamily as they tended to do when she faded into a daydream? Had he caught her staring overlong? Still, she thought everything had gone very well indeed. Her plan to seduce her sexy, formidable boss was well underway.
He’d touched her.
Chapter Two
Over the next few days, Raelie stepped up her campaign to force him into action.
On Tuesday morning, she dressed in another shirtwaist blouse. One that fit tightly over her breasts. Before she entered Bryce’s office to deliver his mail, she turned the top button snuggled between her breasts sideways. She hoped his gaze would be helplessly caught, waiting for her to exhale deeply and let the button slip. Not that she planned to let that happen. Power lay in the anticipation.
She entered without knocking, and this time, stifled the urge to give him a flippant greeting to get his attention. If obvious didn’t work with the man, maybe a tease would. As she bent over his desk to drop the envelopes and magazines into his inbox, she watched him from beneath her eyelashes.
His gaze swept her, lingering for a moment on the button between her breasts. Heat banked in his eyes, and his nostrils flared before he turned to the items she’d delivered.
She wasn’t fooled. He only pretended to ignore her.
Assured he was invested in the game as well, she gave him a more direct stare. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” she said, lingering over the last word.
His head jerked, canting slightly as his gaze narrowed. “I think that’s enough, Miss Wood,” he murmured.
Chastised, but far from defeated, she walked away with a smile on her face.
He might be fighting his attraction, but she knew she’d captured his notice. Back at her desk, she closed her eyes, reveling in the tingling that tightened her breasts into aching little points, the tiny golden rings adorning the tips mashing against the cups of her bra and inciting her nipples into an even greater arousal. She waited for a moment when no one was around then massaged her breasts through her clothing until the tightness eased.
On Wednesday, she carried in the lunch he’d ordered, a Reuben and a small salad, sliding it beside him as he talked on the telephone. She reached for the napkin wrapped around the utensils, unfurled it and shook it out with a snap before laying it across his lap, her fingers brushing over him.
This time, he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed. His voice trailed away mid-sentence, his breath caught because she’d managed to fleetingly graze his cock. His dark, thick eyebrows shot upward, touching that disobedient lock of inky hair she wanted so badly to comb back into place.
“I’ll be back later to clear that away, sir. Enjoy.” She walked out, not rolling her hips in a lewd way, but with her shoulders straight, her step light. His cock had stirred against his thigh as she brushed it. She’d accomplished what she’d come for.
Shortly after, she left for the ladies room carrying her purse snug beneath her arm. With her little fingertip vibrator, she used the memory of that fleeting touch to soar. If her cheeks were flushed when she returned, she was also bonelessly relaxed. She didn’t give a damn whether anyone with an expert eye guessed what she’d just done.
When Thursday rolled around, Raelie stayed past five o’clock to attend the meeting with the crew from the plaza worksite. She remained in the background, one leg crossed over the other. This time, she wore a looser skirt because she had special plans for after everyone had left.
Her foot kicked slowly up and down as she doodled, her skin warming just thinking about the naughty thing she planned to do. He’d probably never know. However, just the possibility of being caught was enough of a turn-on all by itself. The motion of her foot quickened, squeezing her thighs together, and by default, tightening her already throbbing pussy.
Lord, she wished she’d taken the edge off with her little vibrator before coming to the meeting. She glanced at her notes and realized she’s substituted “bend over” for “Windover”—the name of the plaza Bryce and Morgan’s company was building. She hastily scratched through it then guiltily looked up.
Morgan’s gaze narrowed on her, suspicion glinting in his green eyes.
She wrinkled her nose. Bryce’s partner, Morgan, was a flirt. He’d romanced every single woman who wasn’t dog-ugly in the building, but she’d been the lone bastion, holding out for Bryce.
However, her resistance to his charm appeared to have proven an irresistible challenge for Morgan Markham. Every day, the man sat his fine ass on the edge of her desk, trying to woo her, coaxing smiles and mock scowls, but so far not a single promise to go to dinner or the supply closet.
She had no doubt Morgan knew his way around women. He had tons of experience, and he knew how to extricate himself from sticky situations. His glib tongue could let a girl down and still make her feel like a desirable, attractive queen among women. She’d seen him do it more than once.
No, she didn’t want Morgan. Well, maybe once—and only if he was no longer Bryce’s partner—because she wouldn’t take the risk of Bryce being put off by promiscuity in his woman. Morgan wasn’t the dominant male she needed in her life. He never made her feel small and vulnerable or eager to please. He never made her wet with just the sting of his hot stare.
Despite Morgan’s best lines and flattery, she’d saved herself for Bryce, and he still didn’t have a clue, which didn’t dim her enjoyment of her crush. But she was making progress.
Even now, as she dangled one foot atop the other in the far corner of the room, removed from the discussion, she had his attention.
His gaze strayed to the glimpse of thigh the tightening of her skirt revealed with each slow swing.
She’d worn a beige skirt, nude hose and seashell pink shoes today, secretly mirroring the colors of her hair, her skin, her nipples. She’d felt sexy, nearly naked, when she'd dressed that morning, knowing she was exposing her personal, intimate colors to the man, and that he’d never know it.
The overlarge pearls nestled against her throat weren’t real, but they warmed to her skin. With a lazy finger, she lifted them and imagined Bryce tucking them one at a time into her ass while she whimpered.
Her chest rose around a deep breath and she raised her glance to find his gaze on her necklace before it darted upward to lock with hers. The moment stretched exquisitely long—a bit of subtle foreplay that enhanced her fantasy, fed her lust and her anticipation for the naughty thing she meant to do the moment she was alone.
* * *
Bryce hit the function key on his keyboard that opened a dozen different views from the security cameras staged around the office, looking for her, Morgan a silent witness at his shoulder.
Miss Raelie Wood wasn’t at her desk. He wished he could resist her powerful allure because it wasn’t like he didn’t have work to wrap up or that he couldn’t find a woman he didn’t have to stalk. However, Raelie filled his thoughts to distraction.
Bryce recalled how her eyes had slid shut in ecstasy while she’d massaged her breasts Tuesday morning after he’d watched her bend over his desk. He’d been unable to look away, hoping that damned little button would slip out of its hole and offer him a glimpse of her full, firm breasts.
Yesterday during lunch, he’d gone rock hard the moment her fingers had brushed his cock. He’d sat in an agony of suspense wondering if she’d done it on purpose or by accident. In the end, the answer to that question hadn’t really mattered. He still hadn’t decided whether she was the one, which meant he couldn’t make a move on her. So he’d locked his outer office door and took care of the erection in his private bathroom before he’d been able to continue working.
This afternoon, watching her play with that damned string of large white pearls while one sleek thigh scissored atop the other had been sheer torture. He’d rushed through the meeting agenda to push the men out of the office before he betrayed the uncomfortable extent of his distraction.
Raelie was becoming an obsession. Every pout of her lips, even the way she gazed up at him, wide-eyed and expectant, had driven him slowly into blue-ball hell. He was quickly realizing that the timetable he’d worked out in his mind for a careful seduction, once Kathryn returned, didn’t take into consideration his constant state of arousal or the blonde woman’s tenacity.
For the sake of his business and his sanity, he either had to fire her or step up the schedule.
“There,” Morgan said, leaning over his shoulder and pointing toward the entrance to the copier room.
She stood in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder, an action made suspicious by the furtive way she looked up and down the hallway. Was she planning to steal supplies from the cabinet?
He set his cursor over the view into the room, watching her enter and quietly lock the door behind her.
“Is our little Raelie a thief?” Morgan said, laughter in his voice.
“I don’t think so,” Bryce said, his body tightening with irritation.
Morgan might be his partner in business and one of his wingmen when he cruised the clubs, but this time, Bryce felt oddly possessive toward this particular woman. She had to be his first. He wished like hell he hadn’t been tempted to mention the fact to Morgan. Now, Morgan felt it was his duty to help Bryce make a hook-up.
She walked toward the copier and slipped her feet out of the pretty pink pumps that had teased him all through the meeting with the crew. Then she reached for the hem of her skirt and lifted it on one side. Her free hand disappeared beneath it and a wispy bit of lace drifted down her long, silky legs toward the floor.
When the hell had she removed her pantyhose?
“Do you think she has a clue we have a camera in there?” Morgan murmured.
“Obviously not,” Bruce clipped, annoyed that Morgan was enjoying his tension.
Morgan had been the one to tempt him with the security cams the day Raelie occupied Kathryn’s desk. Ever since, Bryce had been obsessed, tapping keys to find her a dozen times a day, watching for a glimpse into her thoughts, looking for a hint of how to entice her to play.
However, he quickly discovered he was the one caught. Just watching the swell of her breasts as she breathed turned him on. Temptation was making him the worst sort of perv, not that Morgan seemed to have the same scruples as he leaned closer to the screen.
Raelie took a small step stool and placed it next to the copier then opened the cover and turned. Pulling up her skirt in back to expose her bottom, she sat on the glass.
“Fuck!” Morgan breathed.
Bryce wanted to give him a shove, but couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen.
Raelie’s skirt pooled around her hips, cutting off their view of her lush ass. Holding up her skirt in front with one hand, she reached between her legs and hit the start button. Light flashed, rolling beneath her. Paper spat out the side.
She leaned over, glancing at the sheet resting on the hopper. Her nose wrinkled, and then both her hands disappeared between her legs. She wiggled a bit and bent to mash the button again.
Morgan smacked his shoulder. “Look in the queue, dumbass.”
“What?” he said, shaking his head, unwilling to look away from the young woman who smiled impishly as she took pictures of her intimate parts.
Morgan snorted. “It’s a new machine. Didn’t you pay attention to the demonstration?”
“Of course not,” Bryce said nastily, his gaze still glued to the monitor. “It’s what I have a secretary for.”
“You’ll be glad I was listening.” Morgan shoved Bryce’s chair aside and commandeered the keyboard. He opened a file, and then clicked on an icon for a document.
A picture filled the screen—Raelie’s pretty, shell-pink pussy bracketed by pale buttocks, her lovely, orchid-shaped inner lips spread to display the opening of her vagina, which was deep and dark…beckoning.
“She’s a real blonde,” Morgan murmured.
Bryce clamped his jaw closed, the rush of blood toward his cock robbing him momentarily of the ability to speak.
“Well, will you lookie there,” Morgan said, touching the screen twice, pointing to the glints of gold piercing her inner lips. Morgan turned to Bryce and waggled his eyebrows. “Think she knows we can access what’s printing?”
“Of course not,” Bryce said, scowling at his grinning friend. “She’d be mortified.” Bryce hesitated a moment, then ground out, “Print it. Print every one of them. Then delete the entire file. But use another computer.”
While Morgan hurried out of his office, Bryce switched back to the video feed in the copier room.
Raelie hopped off the glass and smoothed her skirts down her sides. She gathered the copies from the hopper then bent over to grab her panties from the floor. She used them to wipe the copier glass and balled them up inside her fist. Taking a deep breath, she walked back to the door and unlocked it.
Morgan sped back into his office, papers clutched in one hand, which he slammed against Bryce’s chest. “Done,” he said, with a sly look. “What are you gonna do with them?”
“Morgan, have a seat there,” Bryce said, pointing toward the sofa to the side.
Morgan raised a brow. “Thought you might be worried about embarrassing her.”
Bryce snorted, anger building in his gut. “Not anymore. She played us, buddy. When she bent for her panties, she pointed her sweet little cunt right at the camera.”
Morgan’s grin reflected delight, which annoyed the hell out of Bryce.
Bryce tightened his tie and headed out of the office to find the not-so-innocent Miss Raelie Wood and let her know there were consequences for misappropriating office property.
The wait was over.
Chapter Three
Raelie bent to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer of the EA’s desk and slipped inside the panties and the copies she’d made.
Bryce’s office door opened, and she straightened, knowing her face burned. She hoped he didn’t intend to stay much longer, because she needed to get into the online copier folder and delete the pictures of her pussy.
“Do you have a minute, Ms. Wood?” he said, his words sounding clipped.
“Of course, sir,” she said breathlessly, still horribly aroused. She’d wiped the copier glass with her panties, but knew she’d have to return with some Windex. She’d gushed arousal as the machine vibrated and heated beneath her bottom. She’d imagined Bryce looking at the pictures of her cunt, and she’d been transported.
His face looked so stern as she passed him upon entering his inner sanctum that she faltered for a moment, wondering if she’d been caught after all. However, Morgan sat on the dark leather couch inside. Surely, this was all about business. He wouldn’t chastise her in front of another man. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave, sir?”
Bryce’s eyes narrowed, and he stared for a long, disconcerting moment.
Raelie fought the urge to fidget. If he was the guy, he’d want her to show greater self-control. Still, she couldn’t help lifting her chin a notch and meeting his gaze.
A soft snort gusted from his otherwise implacable face. Then Bryce thrust a paper toward her.
Raelie glanced down, saw the picture of her genitals, and felt a flush of humiliation heat her cheeks and creep down her throat to the tops of her breasts. This was so not how she had imagined she’d feel in her fantasies. “I can explain…” she began, but couldn’t continue when she looked up again.
His expression didn’t betray a thing—not disgust or anger, and sadly not a hint of arousal. “Miss Wood, what were you thinking?” he said, his voice dead even.
She bit her lip, preparing a story then winced as he lifted a brow as if to say, I dare you to lie to me. But she did it anyway, although not with as much conviction as she might have wished. He was just too scary at the moment. “Um…I wanted to see my piercings?” She waited, and when he didn’t immediately respond, blurted, “I’ll pay for the toner and the paper, sir.”
Bryce’s eyes were fierce, frightening slits—completely sexy—which was not something she should be thinking right this moment. Not when she was about to be fired.
“This is misappropriation of office equipment,” he rasped softly, like Dirty Harry to a perp. “A firing offense. What do you think I should do with you?”
Raelie froze, heat draining away as the blood left her face. “Perhaps you could suspend me instead?” she asked hopefully. After all…he’d asked.
“Suspension seems a little light for this kind of infraction,” Morgan said from the sofa.
There wasn’t of hint of teasing in his hard voice. Lord, had her sin been so bad that even Morgan Markham was shocked? Shame shivered through her. She closed her eyes. It was one thing for Bryce to see the picture. But Morgan too? What had she been thinking? She bent her head. “Maybe you could…” She bit her lip. The only retribution she could think of that she deserved seemed every bit as inappropriate as her “infraction”…and completely self-serving.
“What, Miss Wood?” Bryce insisted, stepping closer and folding his arms across his chest. “What do you think I should do?”
She didn’t back away. Each shortened breath dragged in his spicy scent and warmed the parts that had burned when the copier light hit them. Slowly, she looked up. “Maybe you could…spank me?”
A choking sound came from the couch.
Bryce aimed a killing glare at his partner before focusing on her again. “Spank you? Does that seem an appropriate and professional punishment? It sounds like something the State Employment Board would definitely frown upon.”
She quickly shook her head, although she knew her continued insistence could get her fired for sure. If she was about to get the boot, she couldn’t blow this last chance at getting what she wanted. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Now or never. “I would never tell. I’ve wanted your attention for the longest time, sir.”
Bryce blinked, his expression still neutral, but she saw a hint of tension in the grinding of his jaw. Then his gaze softened, fractionally.
His hesitation gave her hope. Raelie felt a rush of power sweep through her. If he was intrigued, here was a weakness she could exploit. She turned abruptly away and glanced over her shoulder—at him then at Morgan—and walked around him to his desk, bent over the gleaming wood, and reached back to inch up her skirt over her bare buttocks. “Just for the record, sir, you didn’t ask me to do this.”
“Looks like Bryce could be the one to scream sexual harassment,” Morgan murmured. “Want me to leave, Bry, while you…uh, handle this?”
“We’re partners,” Bryce said, his voice still level. “It’s our copier she abused.”
Raelie faced forward and rose on her tiptoes, lifting her bottom higher. Seconds ticked by. The longer she laid there, her ass perked for them both to see every inch of her feminine anatomy, the more nervous she got. Her stomach clenched. Maybe she’d misinterpreted the signs and colored them with her own desires.
At last, the slide of leather through cloth told her he was removing his belt. She bit back a whimper at the thought, but a tiny groan slipped out.
“Are you afraid of my belt, Miss Wood?”
“Yes, sir,” she said in a small tight voice, so excited she thought she’d melt from the inside out and end up a gooey puddle at the foot of his desk.
A warm, heavy hand cupped one cheek, molding it. Clothed thighs pushed against the backs of hers. Bryce leaned in and pinned her to the desk. “I’ve watched you, Miss Wood. You’ve been playing me all along, trying to seduce me, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” What else could she say? She’d laid it all out, sacrificing her pride to reach this moment.
“I’m a particular kind of man,” Bryce said. “Some might even say peculiar or deviant. Does that frighten you?”
Jesus, did he mean it the way she hoped? Her mouth went dry and she swallowed. “No sir, I’m not frightened.”
“Just so we’re clear. You can stop me at any time. Your job is not at risk. You can say no. Do you understand?”
She nodded eagerly, her excitement growing so intense she couldn’t catch a full breath.
The hand on her ass squeezed. “I need an answer, Miss Wood.”
Her pussy clenched, and moisture seeped to wet her folds. “Yes sir, I understand. You’ll stop if I ask you to.” She took a deep breath and deepened her voice, “This is consensual, something I need…so that I can be a better secretary.”
A muffled laugh sounded from the sofa then leather creaked.
While her heart beat madly, Morgan walked around the other side of the desk to stand in front of her. He held his own belt in his hands. Had Bryce signaled him? She tried to glance behind her to see Bryce’s face, but couldn’t quite reach.
“Morgan’s my partner, Miss Wood,” he continued in his uninflected voice. “Some matters require joint disciplinary action. Do you have a problem with that?”
She swallowed hard. This was happening faster than she could have hoped, but she really didn’t want the pace to slow. While she’d been teasing Bryce, she’d worked up her own arousal to a fever pitch. “No sir,” she whispered, “you know best what punishment I deserve.”
Morgan threaded the leather tongue of his belt through the buckle, forming a circle that he looped around her wrists. He drew the loop tight and pulled her arms toward him. Then he threaded the end through the handle of Bryce’s center drawer.
Standing on her toes, with her body stretched across the surface of Bryce’s desk, she was completely, deliciously helpless.
Morgan’s fingers dug into her hair, and he lifted her head. “Had a feeling ’bout you for a while, Raelie Wood.”
“Oh?” She didn’t complete the thought. Her scalp stung, which only heightened her awareness of the cool wood beneath her and the heat radiating off the man standing behind her.
Bryce nudged apart her feet, widening her stance. When she was spread so wide she felt her inner lips gape open, she couldn’t help the little shivering sob that escaped.
“Was that fear, baby girl?” Morgan asked, easing his grip on her hair and kneeling so his face was aligned with hers. “Or do you want this?”
She searched his face, looking for a clue of what he thought about the way she’d behaved or a hint of where this was going. But his expression remained bland. “Want,” she groaned, hoping she’d given the right answer. Want trumped the trepidation that quivered through her body.
One brown eyebrow arched. The wicked twinkle was back in his eyes. “You’ve been teasing Bryce here until he’s just about lost his mind.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, but allowed a little one-sided smirk, sharing a glimpse of the joke.
He tapped her nose then rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “You should be. We have a business to run. What are you going to do to make this right?”
She licked her lips. “Whatever Mr. Caldwell feels is appropriate.”
Morgan’s eyelids dipped, but the laugh lines on either side of his mouth deepened. “So if he wants to spank your ass until it’s pink…?”
“I want him to be pleased with my dedication. I’ll trust that I deserved it.”
His thumb slid along her lip again. “If I want to fuck your mouth…?”
Her mouth went instantly dry unlike her pussy which gave its moist approval. “With Mr. Caldwell’s permission…” she said huskily.
“Does your cooperation depend on his being here?”
She nodded. “I’m his secretary.”
Morgan grinned then shot a glance up at Bruce and nodded. “That’s all right with me. How about you, Bryce?”
“She’ll do what I tell her,” Bryce growled. “If I want her to open her mouth for you to fuck, she’ll do it. Won’t you, Miss Wood?”
Raelie’s excitement was so intense she didn’t know how she managed to suppress a squeal. However she suspected that Bryce wouldn’t be pleased at her loss of control. “Yes sir,” she managed to mumble through tight lips.
“Morgan, she can’t open your pants for you,” Bryce drawled.
“Oh, right.” Morgan straightened and unbuttoned his slacks then slid down the zipper. He carefully untucked his cock from the flap of his boxers and pumped his fist once down his stiffened shaft.
Raelie sucked in a deep breath and couldn’t help but stare. The man was huge. No wonder all the women in the building held no grudges once he’d moved on. They’d feel it was an once-in-a-lifetime privilege to take that cock deep inside their bodies.
Morgan gripped himself beneath the head and pointed the tip at her lips. He pushed against her closed mouth.
Remembering to breathe, she opened wide and wrapped her lips around her teeth, letting him slide inside while struggling to ignore the palm smoothing in circles on her ass. When Bryce’s hand left her bottom, she groaned, her attention arrested. A sharp slap landed on one cheek, and she gasped around Morgan’s dick.
Morgan hissed. “Bite me and I swear I’ll be beating that pretty ass too. Got that?”
She nodded, bracing herself for the next blow. When it came, she was prepared. Bryce’s broad hand left behind stinging heat with every slap that had her pussy drenched in seconds. Raelie breathed noisily through her nostrils.
Morgan let go of himself and gripped the sides of her head, supporting her as he stroked into her, using shallow thrusts at first, quick little flutters that forced her to suction hard to hold him inside her mouth. “That’s it, baby,” he ground out. “Suck it hard. Fuck, your mouth feels good.”
She moaned with pleasure at his praise, using her tongue to tell him how much she appreciated it, adding a swirl over his broad cap, pointing the tip to slide it into the vertical slit, then curling it to flutter beneath the ridge defining the head.
Morgan’s scent was musky and earthy. Male sweat, concrete dust, and just plain dirt clung to his skin, but she didn’t care because he loved her mouth. He’d told her so.
“Damn, you’re hot,” he said, pulling her hair. “Fucking that sweet mouth is like fucking a pussy. Baby, let me come deeper.”
He shoved past her tongue, tapping the back of her throat, and she thought that was as far as he intended to go, but a slap against her rump by Bryce and hard tug at her hair from Morgan, disabused her of that idea.
“Loosen your jaws,” Morgan said, his voice sounding rough as gravel. “Breathe through your nose and let me into your throat. You can do it. And don’t you dare choke on me.”
At the gravelly texture of his voice, her pussy clenched. Behind her, fingers slowly rimmed her opening, and she took a deep fortifying breath.
“Open wide and let Morgan sink deeper,” Bryce said, his voice taut and stern.
Raelie gave a whimper but widened her jaw, allowing Morgan to tunnel deeper. Her lips were stretched around him, her jaws aching, but the emotions scrolling over his face—deep arousal, approval, a hint of his usual swagger—made her stay the course.
Morgan’s face reddened, sweat sprouted on his forehead, and his thrusts quickened. “Swallow it, swallow it all.”
Scalding spurts filled her mouth—viscous, salty, tangy. Her jaws burned but she remained obedient, her lips sucking hard, her throat working as he stroked toward her throat, and she swallowed down his cum.
When he pulled free from her mouth, he knelt and kissed her, his tongue penetrating and sliding deep. He had to have tasted himself there. When he leaned back, he winked. “You did good, office girl. Now, think you can behave from now on?”
Raelie whimpered because Bryce was pinching her clit.
Morgan chuckled and rose, pushing his cock back into his pants and zipping up. “You got it handled from here?” he asked, his gaze rising behind her.
“I’ll finish the punishment.”
Morgan walked away, his steps muffled on the thick carpet. The door shut with a quiet click behind him.
Raelie tensed, wondering what Bryce would do next and whether a punishment fitting her naughty crime was his only intention.
Chapter Four
A searing flick of leather branded her bottom, answering that particular question. She gasped and instinctively twisted her hips to avoid the next lash.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bryce asked, snapping the leather against the other cheek. “What you planned all along?”
“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I didn’t really think you’d see those pictures.”
“I’m not talking about the pictures. Morgan wasn’t the only one to notice how slutty you’ve been acting. Are you a slut, Miss Wood?”
Shock rendered her speechless for a moment. Raelie groaned as another sharp flick fell, and she rolled her hot cheek on the wood. “Yes, yes…I’m a slut.” Your slut, she wanted to add.
The belt landed on the desk beside her. Bryce leaned over her back, his clothed cock grinding between her legs. “What did you fantasize would happen?” he whispered in her ear. “You’ve teased me to distraction for days, playing with your buttons, letting me see glimpses of your underwear, watching me with those big blue eyes.”
But his weight left her breathless, unable to answer. They remained like that for long, tense moments, his cock grinding against her, and Raelie waiting to see whether he’d regret letting things get this far.
He withdrew, and her skin felt the chill as an air-conditioned breeze struck her. “When you spread your pussy on the glass, what did you want to happen?” he asked softly. “The truth.” His hands smoothed over her buttocks. Then one lifted. He struck her again.
Raelie sank deeper against the desk, moaning because the welts he raised stung enough to make her bottom quiver and her whole body vibrate with need. “I wanted you to catch me,” she sobbed. “I wanted you to n-notice me.”
A slap landed, this one harder and criss-crossing other welts, stinging exquisitely. A flush of euphoria swept over her, and she groaned, undulating helplessly on the desk. “Please,” she gasped, “more.”
But Bryce was back to rubbing her ass, bringing her down again. “Miss Wood, I don’t think I’ve ever had a more disobedient secretary. Almost as though you want me to punish you. Do you want that?” he asked, his voice deceptively mild.
She knew he was only acting detached now. She’d felt the steely strength of his arousal when he’d pushed against her. Her breaths evened, and she turned her head to the side, resting, gathering strength for whatever he intended to do next. “I do. I do want it, sir. Punish me, please.”
“Why should I give it you, Miss Wood?”
She rubbed her cheek on the cool wood. “I need punishment because I’ve been bad,” she whispered, “…because I’ve teased you instead of being honest about what I need.”
Another swat landed dangerously close to her labia, and she twisted—this time to encourage him to aim the next stinging slap there.
His hand smoothed over stripes of hot flesh, massaging. “How did you think this would end…in your fantasies?”
Should she tell him? She opened her eyes. Or had she misread the source of his strength? “I want to be yours,” she said, giving an ambiguous answer because she feared being wrong and making a fool out of herself.
A tongue traced the length of one fiery welt. “What do you think that means—belonging to me?” He licked closer to her sex, his fingers touching her intimately, following the thin flange of one lip, pausing to toggle a ring, then dipping inside her.
She arched off the desk, her arms tugging hard against the belt tethering her. “Whatever you want it to mean,” she groaned. “I want to be possessed.”
Teeth gently bit her clit. “And if I ask something that makes you uncomfortable?”
Vibrating and close to blurting out that she wanted to be his, whatever it took, she said instead, “I’ll put my trust in you…that you know best.”
“Miss Wood, have you ever been possessed before?” His voice was silky, soft.
All her intuition said the answer was important despite the easy way he said it. Raelie quieted, holding her breath, wondering what he wanted to hear.
He spanked her pussy, and the sound was lush and wet. “The truth, Raelie,” he rasped as his finger teased her entrance with shallow, unsatisfying thrusts.
“Once,” she gasped, trying to push backward to take him deeper. “He…we…I wasn’t obedient enough to satisfy him. But I can be better now, I think.”
He leaned over her, blanketing her back, but only to reach past her and loosen her bonds. His strong hands curved around her shoulders, and he raised her from the desk, stepping back.
The skirt fell over her hips. On her feet now, she swayed as blood fled south, and she braced herself against his chest.
However, his arms didn’t close around her; they remained straight at his sides. His expression was still neutral, his gaze intense.
She gave him a little frown because she’d revealed so much but still didn’t know what he wanted. She moved away, biting her lip.
He crossed his arms. “Take off your clothes, Miss Wood, and leave them in a neat stack on my desk, in front of the monitor.”
Relief nearly had her melting at his feet. Her clothes fell away, landing on the floor. She didn’t even mind his narrowed stare that nudged her to pick them up and fold them. When she’d laid them on his desk, she turned back, a little embarrassed to be completely nude when he hadn’t even removed his tie.
“What would you like me to do now?” she asked, interweaving her fingers and cupping them in front of her, eager for whatever came next.
“How do you feel, Miss Wood?”
She shrugged. “Truthfully, a little awkward.” Then she pressed her lips together because he didn’t respond for several long moments, and his gaze didn’t dip. Was her body that unattractive?
To diminish her breasts, she hunched her shoulders then squeezed her thighs together, hoping to make them seem a little less round.
Bryce drew a quick sharp breath. “Miss Wood, I want you to return to the copier room. There’s a little matter of a smudged glass I want you to clean. Also, your fingers spread your pretty little cunt then touched the buttons. I want you to clean the machine, top to bottom.”
Raelie froze for second, then blurted, “But why did you have me take off my clothes?”
His mouth curved into a slight smile. “Because I’ll enjoy watching you move.”
“You’re coming with me, then?” she asked, wondering if he wanted to get kinky in the copier room.
“You can’t have forgotten the camera. I’ll watch from my desk to make sure you do a good job.”
Her jaw clamped tight. He’d known all along that she had set out to shock and tease him when she’d played with the machine. “And when I’m through, sir?” she asked, her voice softer, raspier than she would have liked because his small, tight smile deepened, and she knew her wants weren’t his priority.
“When you’re through, you can come back and dress. I won’t be here. I’ll expect you at your desk bright and early tomorrow.”
He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair then unbuttoned his cuffs and turned them, folding them up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms lightly covered in silky dark hair. He reached for his tie and loosened it, then stilled.
Her gaze lifted.
One dark brow arched.
Feeling ready to cry because she ached so badly, she stomped out of the office and down the hallway to the copier room.
Bryce sat in his chair and clicked on the function key that opened the security cams then used the arrow to find the view into the room.
Raelie stalked inside and headed straight to the supply closet where she pulled out a spray bottle and paper towels. A fierce frown scrunched her face into an adorable scowl.
His gaze ate up the sight of her body. Medium height, lush curves and sleek legs. Everything about her appearance pleased him. Her femininity seemed exaggerated when compared to the well-toned stick girls he’d dated before. Everywhere he looked her soft skin and frame made his palms itch. Her skin was light tan with narrow strips of white where a miniscule bikini had shielded her feminine parts. If she lasted, he’d have her sunbathing nude beside his pool.
His cell phone vibrated on the desk, and he picked it up.
“You answered,” Morgan drawled. “I’m disappointed in you. Did you let her leave already?”
Bryce snorted. “I made her go clean the copier. Naked.”
Morgan chuckled. “’Bout damn time. Anything I can help you with?”
“Raelie’s mine,” he bit out then touched the button to cut the connection. Soon, he’d be ready to share her training with his friends, but for now he’d savor the journey alone. His gaze honed as he watched her.
Raelie stood on the footstool and rubbed the copier glass with a towel. Her buttocks and breasts jiggled with each furious swirl. Still, her nipples were erect and lengthening, jutting out her tiny gold rings.
Bryce inhaled deeply and settled back in his chair. He had a choice here—follow his own desires or give Raelie what she really needed. He’d wanted a challenge, but would the sweet temptation she embodied prove too much to resist?
Raelie stepped off the stool and misted the control panel at the front of the machine. She wiped it quickly then bent and rubbed down the cabinet doors. Again, she pointed her pretty pink pussy right at the camera.
Bryce grinned, loving her show of rebellion. He hit the button to the intercom which broadcast to the entire suite of offices. “Miss Wood, go ahead and restock the machine then straighten the supply locker.”
She stiffened, and her gaze swung to the camera in the corner. Her eyes narrowed into a deadly glare while her hand shot him the bird.
He waited, holding his breath.
Instead of tossing up her hands and flouncing away, she took a deep breath. Her frown eased and her gaze, this time reflecting a little uncertainty, rose again. She gave the camera a curt nod, and then yanked open the copier doors to pull out the paper tray.
Bryce relaxed. He was surprised, because he hadn’t known he’d been so tense, waiting for her to decide. He watched for a few minutes longer as she diligently unstacked the cabinet to reorganize it.
One last lingering glance at her lovely body and he lifted his jacket from the chair and exited his office. Tonight, he turned toward the stairs rather than the elevator because he didn’t trust himself to pass the copier room and not enter it.
Feeling stronger once the heady aroma of her arousal no longer filled his nostrils, he smiled as he jogged down the steps.
* * *
Tired and disgruntled, Raelie returned to dress inside Bryce’s office. She’d been disappointed but unsurprised to find it empty. He’d made it clear he had self control, something she admired even if it was inconvenient as hell right this moment.
Her body burned. She’d stared at her ass in the mirror inside his bathroom and run her fingertips along the raised, red stripes. Pressing on the enflamed skin sent thrilling spikes of arousal through her. Her breasts were swollen. Her pussy wet and throbbing. A condition that wasn’t helped by the fact that everywhere she looked, even the air she breathed, bore his mark.
She inhaled, dragging in the scent of his spicy cologne. Her glance idly swept the corners and found it free of cameras. She circled his desk to stand in front of the monitor and examined his computer. The monitor had a built-in camera. His CPU was still on. Could he see her now?
Deciding she didn’t care if he could see or not, she bit her lip and bent toward the monitor. She pushed her clothing to the side and reached for her purse, which she’d set on the edge of his desk. She dumped its contents and rifled through them.
When her hand closed around the small fingertip vibrator, she held it in front of the screen and gave the camera a smirk.
Letting her arousal consume her, she sat in his big leather chair and hit the handle under the seat for the hydraulic lift and raised the chair height. Then she pushed it back, just far enough so that she could lift her feet and plant them against the edge of his desk.
With her legs braced far apart, her sex was open to the camera. She slipped the vibrator onto her index finger and hit the switch.
Getting off was easy. Her bottom burned, her pussy had been a constant ache ever since the afternoon meeting when his men had surrounded the table and she’d sat swinging her foot and willing him to notice her.
Well, he had, at last. And if she was being naughty now, it was his own damn fault—and something he’d have to correct the next time they were together.
As her finger swirled atop her swollen clit, she let her eyelids droop. She hoped like hell he was watching and was every bit as aroused as she was. As the vibrations hummed against the hardened knot, she rolled her head against the back of his chair, moaning because her body was already convulsing hard, shudders jerking her belly and making her legs quiver.
She swirled and stroked, drawing out her orgasm as long as she could before she slumped against his chair. Then she slowly opened her eyes. She stared straight into the little eye of the camera at the top of his screen and smiled. “Sleep tight,” she said and blew him a kiss.
Tomorrow couldn’t come quickly enough.
Chapter Five
The next afternoon, Bryce sat back and contemplated the chair that he could no longer think of as entirely his own. Raelie had christened it with her arousal. He’d found the white streaks of her girl-cum at the edge of the dark leather when he’d pulled it from beneath the desk that morning. He’d also found the wispy panties she’d wadded in her hand to clean the copier glass. She’d left them in his center drawer.