“Come here.” Wanting to instead bolt out the door and rush back into the safety of her car, she obliged. Eyes still firmly fixed to the ground, she shuffled around the desk, till she was standing between his spread thighs. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, wishing she had something more modest on.
“Eyes up here.” She shivered at his commanding tone, and slowly raised her gaze. She let it drift fearfully up his form, starting at the tent in his black trousers. Blushing, she stared at it, not able to press down her own wave of desire rushing out, almost making her keel over from the sheer force of it.
Almost.
“Look at me”, he repeated with a firm voice.
Breathing in deeply to regain some sort of calm and not to throw herself down at his feet, she lifted her gaze. She peered, awe-struck, into his onyx coloured eyes, which were fixed on her own, watching her intently.
He was utterly beautiful. The strong bridge of his nose, the furrow of his brows. He looked like a sculpture Michaelangelo had been commissioned to create; a statue that belonged in the Accademia Gallery in Florence. What was he doing here in this office, writing emails and attending emails, when he should’ve been the artwork everybody admired, illuminated by golden sunlight on his very own marble pedestal?
He raised his hands to place them on her hips, drawing her in even closer.
“What did you bring?”
His husky voice sent yet another shiver to her core, and she struggled to form a coherent thought at his proximity.
“I- uh, what?”
Nodding to the lunch bag she still clutched like a lifeline, he smirked devilishly. “What did you make me today, pet?”
She opened her lips, noting that her mouth had gone dry. “Just spare ribs with some mashed potatoes I made this morning.”
Her voice sounded hoarse. God, as if she hadn’t been obvious enough.
She licked her lips. His gaze flicked to them, and he lifted one hand to cup her chin gently. Languidly brushing his thumb across her lips, something dark flashed in his eyes. Desire pooled in her stomach, and she felt her core becoming wetter and wetter each second.
Wet and needy.
For him.
Damn.
His eyes were hooded with a hungry look as he licked his lips.
“Mmm, sounds delicious.”
His voice sounded deeper, huskier. So gravelly and rich. She wanted to bathe in it, let it caress and wash over her for all of eternity. But she knew that comfort was something she wouldn’t ever receive whenever she found herself in his presence. How could she, when the air between them crackled perpetually with a sort of electricity she couldn’t seem to ignore?
Volatile and dangerous, a warning to her to never turn her back on him, to always be on her guard.
And those warnings rang true, when just a second later, his thumb dug into her lip, pressing hard.
“Too bad that lunch has been over for well over an hour now.”
Her eyes widened, and in her haste to grip his wrist, she dropped the folder and the lunch bag. The papers in the folder sprung loose, fluttering to the ground, and landing in an array of chaos around their feet.
He paid them no mind.
While she tried to yank his hard grip off on her chin and lips, the hand that had previously rested on her hip tightened, before he moved it to her neck. Encircling her throat, he pressed his fingers into the delicate skin.
Fear gripped her like she’d never felt before. Every single one of the warning bells in her brain were blaring at her to get away, to fucking run, but she couldn’t. As much as she struggled, she couldn’t seem to loosen his grip on her.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she rasped. “I wasn’t paying attention to the time, please, I-”
“I was sitting here for an hour, waiting.” He shook his head in mock disapproval, and yet, she could so clearly see the menacing heat in his eyes that told her that he wasn’t actually joking. He was fucking pissed. The fact that she could so clearly recognise that look made her shake even harder in his grasp.
“Waiting for you to turn up with not only my lunch, but with the urgent documents I needed for the meeting that concluded half an hour ago.”
She gulped, and he traced the movement with his eyes. Using his thumb, he stroked the pulse beating erratically.
“I’m sorry,” she tried again with a soft voice. He showed no reaction, other than his thumb stopping to press harder into her skin.
“Have you eaten? Are you still hungry?” she asked instead. His eyes were still fixed onto her pulsepoint for a few more seconds, but then he lifted his gaze to pin her with a husky stare.
“No, I’m starving. But not for steak and goddamned mashed potatoes,” he circled his hand behind her neck and yanked her face towards his, so that his mouth was just a breadth away from her ear.
“And besides, I think my little toy needs some punishment, since she obviously hasn’t yet learned from her mistakes from the last time. What do you think, hmm?”
She shook her head frantically and pushed against him, gaining a little more space between them. Desperate to grab onto that last shred of sympathy in him before he morphed into the cold creature she’d had the displeasure of encountering a few times too many in the past, she dropped to her knees and brought her hands together.
“No, please, I didn’t mean it, I’ve learnt from last time, please, don’t do this, I just wasn’t paying attention to how late it was getting, pl-,” she should’ve known that her words wouldn’t have any effect on him whatsoever, if not by experience. Still, she rambled on, knowing deep down that it wouldn’t change anything. She had to try, though, even though his sadistic smirk grew with each plea, while her hope dwindled.
“Doll.”
The low growl shut her up instantly. “Did you do something wrong, yes or no?” Ashamed, she tried averting her gaze, but his hand, still placed on the back of her neck, held her head still, preventing her escaping his stare.
“Yes,” she whispered after a couple of seconds.
“And what happens when you misbehave?”
“I get punished.”
“Exactly. Now, is it the first time you’ve heard of my rules? Did you not know beforehand what would happen should you break them?”
She stared at him, silently pleading for him to let this go, to let her go. But of course he wouldn’t. In his eyes, he was only doing what was fair, punishing her for something she was specifically told multiple times before not to do. And for that, she could only blame herself. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, it was true; she messed up. So, she shook her head. Well, she shook it as best as she could since he still had her neck firmly in his grasp. Raising one eyebrow, his grip tightened.
“I need words, doll, not a mere shake.”
She shivered, but grit her teeth and bit out an answer. “No, I already knew about them. It’s my fault, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
He regarded her for a few beats, before releasing her. Hesitantly, she stood up.
“Good. Now strip.”
“What?”
He cocked his head.
“What, you didn’t actually think that an apology would get you out of this, did you?” She shivered at the amused tone, but didn’t respond. When he saw that she was making no moves to obey his order, his lips tightened.
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
Apprehensively, she raised her hands to the blouse, but halted before fingering open the buttons. A flash of rage flashed in his eyes, and before he could say anything else, she hurried in unbuttoning her shirt. She let it drop to the ground. He nodded at her to continue, eyes still firmly fixed on hers. The lacy bra came next, and to her dismay, her nipples were puckered and hard.
Suddenly feeling shy, she brought her hands up to cover her breasts, and bashfully averted her gaze. She could still feel his white hot stare on the side of her head, and belatedly, she remembered his words.
Lifting her face, words of a desperate apology right about to spill from her lips, she realised her mistake the second he shot out of his chair.
He towered over her.
Her heart dropped down to her stomach, but before she could back away, he already held her throat firmly in his big hand. Locked in her position, she gazed up in fear. His hard eyes bore back into hers.
His grip tightened, and he pushed her down by her throat. Her knees buckled, and she went down. Landing on her knees at his feet, she looked up at him, eyes wide and full of anxiety.
His one hand still firmly encircled her neck, while he brought his other hand up to stroke her silky locks.
The juxtaposition of the two ways his hands handled her only made her heart thump harder against her ribs.
With an almost serene expression, he gazed at her. The only thing betraying his fury was the ever-present glint in his eyes.
He leaned down, invading her personal space. Mind unravelling from fright, she shrank back. His expression suddenly revealed his true emotions, his mask of calm evaporating. The grip around her neck tightened, and she whimpered when she felt his hand in her hair clenching, painfully pulling at the strands.
“You truly are in need of punishment, aren’t you? I guess I’ve been too lenient with you lately.”
“No, please!” she gasped, trying desperately to loosen his fingers on her neck. It only caused him to chuckle darkly, amused with his toy’s pointless pleas.
Suddenly, he released his iron grip on her throat. Dazed, she tried crawling backwards, but the grip of his other hand didn’t let her get far.
“Take it out,” he demanded.
She knew what he was talking about even before flicking her eyes downwards to confirm her suspicions. His hard bulge was now directly in front of her face.
Gulping, she brought her hands up to unzip his black slacks. Silently cursing when she saw how much her hands shook, she flicked her gaze up to watch what he was doing, then quickly averted it when his heated gaze met hers.
Leave a Reply