His Secretary: Undone

by Melanie Marchande

  He stops.

  He fucking stops.

  My moan takes on a distinctly different meaning. Twisting my head around to glare at him, I start to protest, but the look in his eyes silences me.

  "Did I say you could come?"

  I grip the back of the sofa tighter. "No."

  "I can't hear you." His fingers mimic mine, digging into my hips even deeper.

  "NO!" I practically shout.

  "That's right." He's almost panting. There's no way he can hold back for much longer, and I know I've got that on my side, at least. "This is your punishment, remember? You don't come unless I tell you so."

  Okay, so, this was one of the hottest elements of his books. I remember it well. I loved reading about it, but damned if I ever wanted to experience it. Every other man I've been with had enough trouble getting me there in the first place; orgasm denial was never in their lexicon. Adrian obviously doesn't have that problem. He's confident enough to toy with me.

  But how far will he take it?

  I can break his resolve. I'm confident of that. Smiling to myself, I squeeze my inner muscles tight. It almost triggers my own climax, it's that close, but I'm able to hold it back. For now. Adrian groans, twitching deep inside me. A moment later, he jerks out of me, and delivers one more solid smack. I yelp, more at the loss of his cock than anything else.

  "Bad girl," he whispers, and I hear the soft noise of the condom being discarded, the rapid sound of skin on skin, slicked with my wetness. "You know what this means, don't you?"

  I can guess. Every part of my body's throbbing and as much as I want him inside me again, oh God, I want him to claim me. I want the mark of his come on my skin, such a potent and unmistakable message after I spent the evening with those cover models.

  I want to be his.

  I'm not stupid. I know that's not really what it means. I know it's just a primal urge, he just needs to come somewhere and he's on a fucking power trip.

  "Yeah," I whisper. "So fucking do it, then. Mark your territory."

  He pitches forward, grabbing my shoulder with his free hand. "You want it?" he whispers.

  "Fuck yeah." I lick my lips. "I'm all yours, Sir."

  The noise that comes out of his mouth is unholy. My pussy clenches, and I feel the wet splashes on my back, my ass. Fuck fuck fuck. I could almost come from that sensation alone, and I feel a gush of my own fluids answering him, trickling down my thigh.

  Adrian plunges three fingers inside me, very suddenly. "Now," he commands.

  I'm done for.

  My body seizes up with pleasure, I'm shouting, trembling, and it feels like it goes on for ages. When it's over I just want to curl up in a ball, but I know I'm a sticky mess, so I force myself to my feet and face him. He's smiling.

  "I really thought you were gonna make me wait longer than that," I tell him.

  "So did I." A wicked half-smile. "But you were so lovely, offering yourself up to me like that. I thought you deserved it."

  And then he grabs my head and kisses me.

  This, I realize, is our first kiss. It's appropriately perverse that it should happen now, and he's smearing my own juices in my hair, and his jizz, too, probably. Did it get on his hand? Which hand? I've been on the pill for a while, so I'm not unduly worried about some of his seed getting inside me, but I wonder how careful he was.

  When he pulls away, I wipe my mouth and grin at him. "You know if you knock me up, that kid's gonna come out with horns."

  "It didn't get inside you, I promise," he says. "But I won't be offended if you want to take a morning-after pill. Or perform some kind of black magic ceremony. I'm not really sure what's appropriate under the circumstances."

  "Relax. I'm on the pill. And for future reference, unless I've been visited by an incubus since my last checkup - not counting you, of course - then I'm still squeaky clean." I hug myself, feeling the wetness slide between my thighs. "Metaphorically speaking."

  "Ah. Me too," he says. "Except it would be a succubus, right? Hopefully." He makes a silent gesture that I interpret as an invitation to join him in the shower, which sounds like a spectacular idea.

  "Why does it matter?" I ask him, laughing, as I follow him into the bathroom. "They're both trying to suck out your soul through your dick."

  "I don't know. What if I wake up in the middle of it? I feel like I'd handle it better if it was a female demon, at least. Just one less thing to deal with." He turns on the water. "I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

  "Yup." I laugh at him, stepping out of my skirt. I've got his rapt attention now, and normally I'm a little shy the first time I undress in front of somebody, but he's looking at me like I'm a glass of perfectly-aged bourbon he can't wait to get his lips around. "Though I guess there's always that chance the incubus is gonna go knocking on the back door. Less likely with the succubus, unless she's the full-service variety."

  To his credit, he doesn't look embarrassed. "What finishing school did you attend, again?"

  I take off my bra, and while he's staring, I flip him off with both hands.

  Chapter Nine

  When I wake up, it takes me a few seconds to remember where I am. There's the usual oh, I'm not at home realization, quickly followed by oh, I'm not in my own room, either. Which is, of course, immediately followed by:

  Right, I slept with Adrian last night.

  And he didn't kick me out, so, that's something.

  There's no sign of him anywhere, though. All his stuff is here, so it's not like he fled in the night, but on my trip to the bathroom and back I don't spot any sign that he was here recently. Yawning, I climb back into bed and snuggle under the covers. There's still a while before morning sessions, and I don't care about most of them anyway. I slept like a baby after last night, somehow, but I'm still tired.

  I have no idea how late we stayed up. I could already see the gears turning in his head, revving up for Round 2, as I stripped down for the shower. We "washed" each other, then made out for a while until I was practically humping his leg, at which point he took mercy on me with those very, very skilled fingers. As much as I appreciated them, I still wanted the chance he'd robbed me of earlier. And I finally got it, when he took me to bed.

  So yeah, maybe that's why I'm still so sleepy. I could go back to my own room, but having left the connecting door locked, in my infinite wisdom, I've eliminated the possibility of doing so without getting dressed. And that sounds like a hassle and a half.

  The sound of the door clicking open shakes me out of my dozing. I push myself up on my elbows, squinting at Adrian as he walks in.

  "Morning," he says, smiling. I feel a little twinge of relief in my chest. "Any thoughts on breakfast?"

  "Some." I'm flirting with him. I can't help it. His groin is basically at eye level as he approaches the bed, and it would take superhuman willpower not to think about the possibilities. "Why, what do you have in mind?"

  He grins. "I'm trying to think of a way to make a 'hair of the dog' joke that's not going to come across badly. So far, no dice."

  I keep expecting the room to go cold and quiet, the way it did in the pool. But he pauses by the bed, his fingers brushing my leg under the covers before he drops a shopping bag in my lap.

  "What's this?" I frown at it, unfolding it slowly to reveal the contents. I have to spend a couple minutes blinking the sleep out of my eyes before I can process what I'm looking at.

  Panties. Sensible ones. But not too sensible - little black boyshorts, cute but practical, and one hundred percent cotton so they'll actually stay where they belong. I look up at Adrian with genuine gratitude in my eyes, but something in his face deflects it before I can say what I want to say.

  "These are too small," I tell him, instead.

  He tilts his head slightly. "You can't possibly know that without trying them on."

  Rolling my eyes, I clamber out of bed, trying not to notice how his whole body language changes while he drinks in the sight. I'm still wearing his discarded shirt, a
nd I know, for whatever reason, that drives guys completely insane. It doesn't hurt that I might as well be naked. It's not even remotely big enough to be decent, so he's getting an eyeful, but there's just enough of the crisp white fabric to be a little bit of a tease. Something tells me we're not going to make the morning conference sessions.

  I step into the boyshorts, shamelessly, and have to shimmy a little bit to get them up over my hips. But if I keep them riding low, technically, they fit.

  Advantage Risinger.

  He looks me up and down, licking his lips. It's pretty obvious he dressed in a hurry this morning, to sneak out and get me this little gift, so his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and his hair's falling out of place in a way that's practically inviting me to grab a handful and guide him home.

  Advantage Burns.

  "I win," he says, closing the tiny distance between us. He tilts his head to mine but he doesn't kiss me, not quite, and I'm grateful for that on account of my morning breath. But something tells me he's not going to care. "Now, Ms. Burns, I just watched your pupils go the size of dinner plates while you stared at me. You want to share what's going through your head, or do I have to run down my arsenal until you surrender?"

  God damn this man. His lips are so close I can almost taste him.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I murmur innocently. My heart's beating a million miles a minute, basking in the desire that positively radiates from his body. Most of yesterday's makeup ran off in the shower and my hair is tangled and I probably still smell like last night's sex, but he still can't keep his hands off of me. Well, evidently he can - which is a problem I intend to rectify.

  "Oh, that's how she's going to play it." Like he's talking to himself, the way he always does when he thinks no one can hear him. "But, hmmm…where do I start? That's the question, isn't it?"

  He steps back, just far enough to circle me, getting the full view.

  "As much as I'd love to spend the rest of this conference in here with you, that might raise a few eyebrows. So, I think it's best to get off to an explosive start, so we can move on with our day. What do you think, Ms. Burns?"

  Breathless, I nod.

  "I'm so glad you agree." He smirks. "After the way you behaved last night, I think you're overdue for a proper tongue-lashing."

  It takes me a second to even process what he's saying, and he's kissing me by then, withdrawing and nipping at my lower lip only when I make a muffled noise of protest.

  "I, um…" I look up at him helplessly, wanting so badly to just sigh and surrender to this, but I can't. Not when my last boyfriend made me shower and scrub down and shave myself clean before he'd go near my ladyparts with his mouth. I didn't blame him, not one bit - I knew there were plenty of guys who refused to do it at all, so I always considered myself lucky.

  I'm not exactly going full Wild Kingdom, but I'm only trimmed, and my last ex was the only guy I ever allowed down there. I don't really have a basis for comparison - some baseline of what guys generally consider acceptable for this particular activity.

  Of course Adrian doesn't care. At least, he doesn't think he cares. He got a good look at me last night, he knows what he's dealing with. He knows I just rolled out of bed. But I can't just switch off the thrum of anxiety, the little voice in the back of my head telling me I'm not good enough.

  "What?" He frowns at me, his arms still wrapped around my waist. "You're telling me you haven't fantasized about this? I've seen the way you look at me when I lick envelopes."

  "You have never, not once in your life, sealed a piece of outgoing mail," I protest, almost forgetting to be anxious while I laugh at him. "I always do that for you, remember?"

  "Oh. Right. Maybe that was my fantasy." His mouth curls up into a wicked grin. "We'll get to that later."

  Heart pounding, I stare at the bed. "Maybe I should…"

  "Hmm?" His lips make their way down my neck, to my shoulder, pushing the borrowed shirt out of the way. "Maybe you should lie down and get comfortable."

  "Take a shower first, is what I was going to say," I admit.

  He shakes his head, still kissing his way down my body. "Please don't. I want to taste you, not hotel soap."

  Taking my hand, he sits down on the edge of the bed, guiding me forward until I'm kneeling on the mattress, straddling him. His teeth graze along the sensitive skin of my breasts, and my nipples pucker sharply. I've never been particularly sensitive there, but now they're begging for his touch.

  "So responsive," he murmurs, running his thumb in a circle around one of them. He smiles. "Are you always this excitable?"

  I shake my head.

  "Can't hear you," he whispers, moments before suckling me into his mouth. I moan softly, clutching his shoulders.

  "No," I exhale, my eyes falling closed. "Just with you."

  He releases my nipple with a soft pop. "Just with me," he says. "Well, well, well."

  When he blows a puff of air on my still-moist skin, I gasp.

  While he gives the same treatment to the other breast, I try to focus on calming my heartbeat so I don't shatter to pieces. It feels like a very real possibility. His hands run lightly up and down my back, and he makes a soft, contented noise.

  "This is nice," he rumbles, when he releases me. "Remind me how much I like this, next time I get insufferable at work."

  I'm giggling, in spite of myself. "You know that means the next time you raise your voice to me, I'm just going to whip my tits out and shove them in your face."

  "That sounds terrible." He nuzzles between them, sighing. "What have I gotten myself into?"

  With a sudden movement, he flips me over so I'm sprawled on my back. I'm laughing, then he kisses his way down my stomach and I'm not laughing anymore.

  He situates himself off to the side, so we're perpendicular to each other, and I must give him a weird look because he says: "Trust me."

  I do, somehow, so I just lie back with my head on the pillows. Relaxing.

  Not for long, though.

  His tongue swipes across me from side to side, and my whole body arches off the bed. I curse, clutching the sheets, and stare at him.

  "Told you," he says, before dedicating himself to his task.

  I can't speak. I can't think. Why has no one told me about this before? Has someone alerted the media? People need to know. I'm squirming and thrashing, moaning, and if I had the capacity to wonder anything anymore, I'd wonder why such a minor change in angle could change absolutely everything.

  I sort of hate the way my orgasms just fall out of me, when Adrian's around. I feel like he should have to work for them. He, of all people, does not need one more reason to think he's the world's biggest stud.

  But I can't control it. I'm coming, I'm shouting his name, my heart's seizing up with pleasure and I might actually die. Probably will die. It'll be worth it.

  Nope. Still alive.

  I open one eye, and then the other, experimentally. He's standing up, and he's grabbing my hand to pull along. He doesn't want me sitting on the mattress, of course, no. He wants me kneeling.

  Well, that's fine with me.

  The post-climax eagerness makes me fumble at his zipper before he even gets there, pulling him out and sighing at how fucking good it looks. I want to say beautiful, but I think he'll be offended. I want to taste him so badly, so I do.

  He gasps, fingers gripping my hair. His hips twitch and I can tell he's putting in a massive effort to hold himself back, because all he wants to do is fuck my face senseless.

  As much as that idea appeals to me on a primal level, I want to be in control of this. For once, I've got him by the short hairs. Almost literally.

  His voice is low and gravelly, traveling straight through me with a palpable warmth. "I always thought the first time you sucked me off, you'd be under my desk."

  I feel like I should be offended by this. But I'm not. I'm so fucking far from offended, we're not even in the same area code.

  Pulling back with a
soft pop, I stroke him with my hand while I talk. "You thought about this a lot?"

  "Every fucking day." His eyes darkened. "Does that bother you, princess?"

  "Yeah," I murmur. "I'm feeling pretty damn bothered right now, Mr. Risinger."

  I rock back on my heels, looking up at him. He's impatient to get back in my mouth, but he's not demanding. Not yet.

  "I just gave you the best orgasm of your life, and you're hungry for more already?" He licks his lips, a shudder running through his whole body as I lean forward and kiss his tip. "God damn, Meg, I never had you pegged for a shameless -"

  Leaning forward, I swallow him down to the hilt, and his last word is lost in a groan.

  He's never called me Meg before.

  I'm forcing myself not to read too much into this. It's just sex. It's just incredibly hot, incredibly emotionally charged sex with the man I've been loving to hate for the past five years of my life.

  But it's just sex.

  I pull back for long enough to say: "Keep talking. Tell me how you pictured it." Then I'm back to my task, and his eyes are protesting that I'm not the one who gives orders around here, but then I'm swirling my tongue just right and he does what I ask.

  "Laundry day," he sighs, and for a second I'm confused. Then he goes on: "So you wear something to work you wouldn't normally, something you think's too small, or too sexy, it really hugs your curves. The top button on your shirt keeps popping open and showing too much cleavage, and when you bend over the skirt rides up on your ass, and it's definitely not workplace appropriate. So I call you into my…mmm. My office, and…"

  I'm marveling at the complexity of the backstory. I never would've guessed he was so imaginative.

  Once again, I've momentarily forgotten he's a writer.

  "…and…" He's lost his train of thought, eyes unfocused. It's a struggle for him to return to the story, but he does. "And you're so embarrassed at first, but of course there's a tiny part of you that's flattered that I noticed. I tell you that your outfit's caused a big problem and it's your responsibility to solve it now. You say of course, anything, just hoping you'll keep your job and you won't get written up or anything. That's when I roll out my chair and I tell you…" His breaths are coming hard and fast now, but he keeps it going. "…I tell you…to come around and kneel. I'm unzipping and now you know what's going on, but you're drooling for it now even though it's so wrong, so you don't say no. You just do it. You suck my cock like your job depends on it."