Hot, Rich and Dominant 5 - No More Secrets

by Amy Valenti

  When Stella began to talk once more, Marc mercifully stopped tormenting me and I could think again. Kind of. Stella asked me a question, which I was just about able to answer, although I stammered a little. When she continued with what she’d been saying, I shot Marc a brief glance from under my eyelashes. As if sensing it, he met my eyes and his lips twitched, just a little.

  Privately, I vowed to get my revenge later.

  * * * *

  The meeting concluded just before lunch, and Marc dismissed us all. Though I wanted to linger, I knew Stella would want to dissect what had been said on the way back to our desks, so I slipped out of the room while Marc was distracted talking to Lance.

  Ten minutes later, just as I was about to take my lunch break, my desk phone rang. I contemplated ignoring it, but I didn’t have that kind of work ethic. It was a curse sometimes.

  “Nell West,” I said into the receiver.

  “Can you talk for a minute, Eleanor?”

  My body stirred at the familiar tone. I hadn’t expected any contact with Marc until tonight.

  “Sure—what do you need?” I asked casually, knowing Stella was close enough to hear. Though I’d have loved to add ‘Sir’ to the end of the sentence, I didn’t want to tip her off as to who was on the other end of the phone.

  “It was difficult not to do more than I did with you during that meeting. Especially since I could tell how much it affected you.”

  “That obvious?” I winced. Way to go, Nell—so professional.

  “Just to me. You’re forgetting I have plenty of experience reading your body language by now. Well done for keeping still, by the way. There was a time you would have been squirming in your seat.” He was using his Dom voice, but there was a warmth to it that told me he was pleased. I tried not to grin like an idiot.

  “Thank you,” I said softly, adding a mental ‘Sir’.

  “I’m going to reward you. We agreed no more scenes at work, so you’ll have to just do as I say and tell me about it later. I want you to go into the bathroom, lock yourself in a stall and touch yourself until you come. Is that clear, Eleanor?”

  A thrill went through me at the command. “I think I can do that.”

  “Good. And tonight I expect a thorough report about how you felt and what you did, so pay attention to your responses. Understood?”

  “Understood,” I agreed, anticipation winding my muscles tighter. “Thank you.”

  “Go now, Eleanor. Enjoy your lunch.”

  He hung up before I could say anything else, and I murmured a goodbye into the dead receiver for appearances’ sake before replacing it.

  “Lunchtime,” Stella half-sang, standing up and reaching for her purse. “Want to walk down to the deli on the corner?”

  I would have liked to, but Marc’s orders came first. “I’m feeling a little queasy,” I said. “I think I’ll wait a while before I try to eat anything.”

  “You okay?” She cocked her head to examine me with concern. “You’ve looked a little flushed for the past half-hour or so.”

  “Yeah, I should be fine. Thanks, though.”

  Feeling slightly guilty for having to lie to her, I watched her leave, then took a deep breath. Go now, Eleanor. Marc’s order replayed in my mind, and I got up to do his bidding, once more feeling as though I had a neon sign above my head, proclaiming my intentions.

  There was a woman I couldn’t recall the name of reapplying some lipstick by the washbasins, but apart from that the restroom seemed to be empty. I gave her a quick smile on the way past and locked myself into a stall as Marc had ordered, hoping she’d soon be on her way so I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping too quiet.

  A minute or so later, the door opened and closed, followed by silence. I leaned against the partition wall, tugging up my skirt. My panties were already damp with my arousal, and I slid my hand inside them, sighing as my fingers met the slick moisture that had gathered. It always turned me on to feel how wet I’d gotten.

  Closing my eyes, I imagined that Marc and I had been alone in the meeting earlier, that he’d bent me over the table and spanked me until my ass was red.

  In my fantasy, he ordered me to sit with my legs spread open and gazed down at my wet, aching pussy. “Do you want to get off, beautiful? Touch yourself for me, and maybe I’ll reward you with my cock.”

  I covered my fingers in my juices and began to rub my needy clit slowly, lightly at first, then with more urgency as I began to tense up, my breath quickening.

  “You’re shameless, aren’t you? You’d do anything I asked if I promised to get you off at the end of it. Do you have any idea how much that makes me want to fuck you?”

  I bit back a whimper, imagining Marc unzipping his pants, freeing his hot, hard cock and stroking it a couple of times as he watched me. “Keep going. Use both hands if it helps.”

  Sliding two fingers deep into my pussy, I kept my other hand in play around my clit, pressing and stroking as my knees began to shake. All the while, I imagined Marc watching me with approval, his eyes dark with lust.

  “Please…” I whispered, then bit my lip. Need to keep quiet…

  “You want my cock, Eleanor? Then get up and lean over the table again.”

  In my mind, I did, and he fitted the head of his cock against my entrance as I shook and shuddered. As I simulated it with my fingers, he thrust deep into me from behind and growled possessively. “I love being inside you, my sub. Now take it while I use you for my pleasure. Come whenever you need to.”

  In the bathroom stall, I quickened my pace as I imagined how he’d take me—hard and completely masterfully. My orgasm began to crest just as the outer door to the bathroom squeaked open, and I almost groaned in frustration as the climax receded out of reach.

  “Don’t focus on them; focus on me. I want you to come, Eleanor.”

  I dragged my mind back to the fantasy, ignoring the clack of high heels across the floor, and hoped my breathing wasn’t ragged enough to give me away.

  In my mind, I was suddenly wearing nipple clamps as he pounded into me. Startled by the new and provocative image, I gasped as my desire rocketed back up to critical levels. Imagining the unrelenting, painful pressure of the clamps, I shuddered, removing my fingers from my soaked folds to slip my hand under my shirt. Pinching one nipple hard enough to hurt, I kept up a steady, tried and true rhythm on my clit and bit the inside of my cheek to resist the moan that tried to burst from my throat.

  Beyond frustrated, I switched to pinching and playing with the other nipple, my release still a hair’s breadth away. Please, please, please, please, I begged my own body silently, aching for relief with every beat of my pounding heart.

  Unbidden, Marc’s words at the club came back to me. Don’t hide from what you’re feeling. Embrace it.

  You’re mine… All…fucking…mine…

  Gratefully, I fell into the swelling waves of my orgasm, a tiny squeak escaping my throat as I suppressed a cry. Oh, god…

  It wasn’t anywhere near as intense as climaxes with Marc could be, but at the moment I’d take whatever I could get. I’d followed his instructions and given myself a little relief, and l was pretty sure Marc’s reaction to my self-pleasuring session would be to make me do it again, under his intense gaze, before taking over himself.

  I couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Five

  The week seemed to fly by, mainly because I was nervous about the weekend’s activities—I’d be meeting one of Marc’s family members for the first time and I was desperate to make a good impression.

  When Saturday arrived, my stomach was churning so much that I had to skip breakfast, glorious as Marc’s cooking could be. He found my nerves amusing, even ‘cute’—I only just managed to rein in the urge to turn him upside down over his own fetish furniture for his use of that particular adjective—but assured me everything was going to be fine.

  Just before eleven, a car pulled up outside and I had to push down the irrational urge to flee out of the back
door.

  Marc’s sister, Serena, was everything I’d longed to be back when I was a teenager. Tall, peroxide-blonde and slim, she possessed an air of quiet confidence that I could never have pulled off in a million years. As I watched her greet Marc across the hallway, I sighed, pushing aside envy.

  “You must be Nell.” Serena walked straight across to me, holding out her hand with a smile. “Serena Maisano. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” I shook her hand, hoping I didn’t look as nervous as I felt. My first time meeting someone from Marc’s family—and not only that, she was the sister I’d all but accused him of having an affair with.

  It hadn’t been my finest moment.

  Amber the Siamese cat approached, meowing loudly. In utter disbelief, I gaped while Serena scooped the feline up and snuggled her close. Amber began to purr loudly.

  “She scratched me to hell when I tried to pick her up once! I thought she was a demon cat, to be honest…”

  Serena set Amber down carefully. The cat rubbed against her legs, looking for all the world as if she’d never even consider unsheathing her claws.

  Behind me, Marc laughed. “Serena’s the only one who can pick her up. Don’t take it personally, Nell.”

  Another furry body brushed against my ankle, and I smiled down at Sentinel, the large, spoilt ginger tom. He’d never shown the same reserve Amber had, and I felt safe enough hefting him against my chest.

  “It’s okay. I have Sentinel to guard me from Amber.”

  Serena snorted good-naturedly. “Sentinel couldn’t guard anything if he tried. Big, fluffy lump that you are,” she added to the cat, scratching his chin with affection.

  “Now you two crazy cat ladies are done bonding, let’s go get some coffee,” Marc interjected.

  A little reluctantly, I released Sentinel. Amber, now sitting nearby, eyed him with distaste. Marc put an arm around my shoulders and steered me in the direction of the kitchen, while Serena moved on ahead as if she lived here. Maybe she once had.

  Marc saw to coffee while Serena and I settled ourselves by the big bay window. I always felt vaguely guilty when I watched Marc cooking or making coffee—as though I should be the one doing it. I was his submissive, after all. But I couldn’t exactly protest now, while Serena was sitting opposite me. She’d find it strange, and I didn’t want to put Marc in the awkward position of explaining our D/s relationship to his sister.

  “So, I hear you’re my brother’s new sub,” Serena said, the word ‘sub’ falling from her lips as casually as I would have expected her to say ‘girlfriend’.

  I was just glad I didn’t have my coffee already. I probably would have inhaled it.

  “Umm… I…” Unsure whether or not to admit it, I looked between the two of them.

  “It’s okay. I know about his lifestyle. Doesn’t mean I can really see the appeal myself, but I’m not going to judge him for it.” Serena gave me a look I guessed was meant to be reassuring.

  I took a breath, hoping my cheeks weren’t noticeably flaming. “In that case, yes. Sorry, I didn’t think he would have told you about that stuff.”

  She leaned back in her chair, eyes sparkling with amusement. “We have a pretty close relationship. Although not as close as I hear you originally thought.”

  I dropped my head into my hands, unable to meet her eyes. She laughed at my mortification, which didn’t help.

  “Are you terrorising my sub?” Marc asked, a warning edge to his otherwise relaxed tone. “Don’t scare her off. I kind of want to keep her around.”

  I chanced a look up at him, and he gave me a quick wink. After setting two mugs of coffee on the table, he went back to the kitchen counter for the third. I made an effort to look away from his delicious butt and focus on Serena.

  “I’m so sorry. I really had no idea you were related when I first saw you.”

  Serena shrugged, then picked up her coffee and inhaled appreciatively before taking a sip. “It’s understandable. We don’t look alike, which is something I’m forever grateful for.” She directed the last part at Marc, who sat down beside me on the couch, coffee mug cradled between his hands.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’d prefer to look like Mom, too. But we can’t pick our genes…or our families, unfortunately.”

  As only a sister can, Serena stuck out her tongue at her brother before becoming as serene as her name again. “I’m guessing you have no complaints about how Marc looks, though. Right, Nell?”

  I eyed him mischievously, but said, “My lips are sealed.”

  Serena held up her hand. “And I don’t want to unseal them. Too much information. But I did want to meet you; see what all the fuss is about.”

  “There’s a fuss?” Marc said.

  She nodded. “According to Helen, you’re fussing more than you have in the past couple of years.” As Marc sighed, she added, “That’s a good thing, Nell.”

  “Maybe I should get all my friends to sign non-disclosure agreements, just to stop the gossip,” my Dom said pointedly.

  “I thought you said you weren’t anything like Christian Grey,” Serena shot back, making me giggle.

  “So, Nell. How’d you meet my brother?”

  I insulted him on the first Wednesday at my new job, and by the Friday he was spanking me over his desk. I decided not to overshare, casting a glance at Marc before saying, “I started working at your dad’s company a couple of months ago. Marc made me feel welcome.”

  Serena seemed to shut down immediately, becoming cold and remote. “Elliot Cassidy isn’t my father.”

  I cringed, remembering that Mr. Cassidy Senior had disowned her for being a lesbian. Marc had told me as much the night I’d accused him of cheating on me with Serena. And she must be using her mother’s maiden name as a surname these days—Maisano. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “It’s okay,” Marc put in, before Serena could respond. “Don’t take it out on Nell, sis. She’s got nothing to do with him besides working for CassidyCorp.”

  Serena took a deep breath and noticeably began to thaw out again. “Right. I’m sorry too, Nell. Knee-jerk reaction. The man’s an asshole. I hear you met him once.”

  I nodded, but kept quiet, unwilling to risk stuffing my foot any farther into my mouth.

  “Steer clear whenever you can,” she continued darkly. “For your sake and for Marc’s.”

  “Let’s change the subject,” Marc said, a note of steel in his voice. “Tell us about Europe.”

  For the past couple of months, Serena had been overseas, beginning in France and going southeast through many mainland European countries to get to Italy. Apparently, their mother’s side of the family hailed from Trieste, a city in the north of the country.

  “It sounds amazing,” I said, upon hearing her description of the vineyards just outside the city at sunrise.

  She smiled, all trace of the prickly attitude she’d displayed earlier gone, and for the first time I saw the resemblance between the two siblings. “It is. Get Marc to take you there—there’s nothing like it. And genuine Italian food is so different from the Italian we get over here.”

  “Seeing Venice is on my bucket list,” I confessed.

  “Got a passport at the moment?” Marc asked.

  “Yeah… Wait, why?”

  “Because if you didn’t, I’d tell you to apply for one so we could go. Now I know you do, I can book tickets.”

  I stared at him. Even after two months together, it still came as a shock when he discussed spending obscene amounts of money on me the way he’d offer to buy my share of our takeout orders. “I can’t let you do that.”

  He stared me down patiently. “It’s not up for discussion.”

  “Yes, it is. Later on,” I muttered, but dropped the subject, not wanting to argue with him in front of Serena.

  I already knew he’d win, but if I didn’t resist even a little bit, I’d feel guilty—as if I were using Marc for his money.

  Serena had been watching our excha
nge with amusement. “Wow, Marc, got yourself a keeper. She doesn’t want to take your cash any more than I do.”

  “You’re both as stubborn as mules,” he said, without much fire behind the words. It seemed he wasn’t in the mood to argue any more than I was.

  “No, we just want to keep our self-respect.” Serena looked to me for confirmation, and I raised my coffee mug to clink against hers in agreement.

  Before anyone could say anything further, Marc’s phone rang. It seemed to happen a lot at weekends—the perks of being a vice-CEO, I guessed. Making his apologies, he stood up and left the room.

  For a moment, there was silence. I scrabbled for something to fill it, but came up blank.

  Serena said, “I had my doubts before I met you, but I think you’re good for him.”

  I blinked at her, trying to process the full meaning of her words. “Ummm…thanks, I think. You thought I’d be bad for him?”

  A slight shadow crossed her face, but she moved on smoothly. “I’m a protective sister, I suppose. And a pessimist by nature. But you guys seem to fit really well together, from what little I’ve seen. And if you’re scratching that domination itch he has, too…maybe you’re even perfect for each other.”

  I hadn’t realised until I’d earned it how much I’d hoped for her approval. A warm glow building in my chest, I grinned at her. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  We chatted idly for a few minutes, sipping the remnants of our coffee. Marc had been gone for longer than I’d expected, and when I caught Serena glancing towards the door, a shadow of worry crossing her face, I knew there must be something wrong.

  I could only think of one thing this might be about—the mysterious project.

  “Think Marc’s okay?” I asked, finally bringing up the elephant in the room.

  From the expression on Serena’s face, she was gearing up to lie to me when the kitchen door crashed inwards with startling violence, hitting the wall and rebounding to slam shut. Marc stalked over to us, his face almost chalk-white.