“I’m completely serious.” The waiter arrived with their entrees, and without removing his hand from her leg he looked up and engaged in a brief conversation as the waiter set everything out. Katherine had to ball her fists in her lap to keep from trembling, and she was certain the waiter couldn’t have missed the scarlet blush staining her cheeks.
Once the waiter went on, he continued on as though nothing had happened. “I know you want me, Katherine. I’ve seen those naughty little glances you’ve tossed my way when you thought I wasn’t looking.” His hand trailed down to stroke the area right underneath her knee, sending more shivers through her and making her hot all over. She’d no idea that was such a sensitive area! “I’m sure you’ve wondered on more than one occasion what it is I do with the women I’ve brought back to my office. Now you have a chance to find out.”
Katherine licked her lips, which had gone as dry as the inside of her mouth. She wanted to reach for her wine glass to wet her throat but she was trembling from Mark’s continuous caresses and wasn’t certain she could be trusted not to spill the wine on herself.
“If you do decide you want to do this, you should know it will be a Dom/sub relationship,” he continued, picking up his fork and sampling his alfredo as he continued to touch her underneath the table.
“What does that mean?” she picked up her own fork slowly, but found that she couldn’t concentrate long enough to get anything from her plate onto the utensil.
“That means I will be the one in control, and you’ll trust me to do what’s best to bring you pleasure,” he told her. “It won’t be anything like you’ve ever experienced before sexually.”
That wasn’t really saying very much, Katherine thought, but she had the idea that what Mark was referring to was considered… taboo. “Is that like when I have a safe word and I tell you when to stop?”
He chuckled. “It won’t be anything quite that intense, but yet. Don’t be afraid, Katherine,” he told her when her nerves flashed in her eyes. “I’ll take good care of you. You can trust me on that.”
What did she have to lose? It wasn’t every day that devastatingly sexy men told her they wanted to have kinky sex with her. And maybe this was the kind of thing she needed. Her life had been tedious this last year, full of nothing but work and worry.
“Alright,” she told him. “What do you want me to do?”
“First,” he told her, setting down his fork and picking up her own. “I want you to eat.” He scooped up a bite of pasta off her plate and held it up to her lips. “Go ahead, take a bite.”
She did as he asked, and admitted to herself she’d never been so self-conscious of eating in her life—his eyes were boring into her face the entire time. “There you go,” he said huskily. “You have such gorgeous lips. Have another one. Go more slowly this time.”
He fed her bite after bite, and she learned to slide her lips slowly along the fork, and she knew from the gleam in his eye that he was thinking of having her lips wrapped around something very different. She felt a flutter of embarrassment at first, but as she continued it faded as she realized this simple act was the sexiest thing she’d ever done. She could tell by the expression in his half-lidded eyes that he was aroused, and the knowledge aroused her too—her nipples were stiff beneath her bra, and the space between her legs was moist and pulsing lightly with need. All the while he continued to toy with her leg, brushing his fingers under her knee and down the back of her calf.
Eventually her plate was empty. He looked at his watch and saw their hour was nearly up. “Time to go,” he said, flagging down the waiter to pay for the check.
He offered his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her outside. He held her close to his body, possessively so, and helped her into the passenger’s side once again. Then he shifted the car into drive and headed back to the downtown office.
“Now that you’ve agreed, I’ll expect you in my office exactly half an hour after closing time,” he told her as they entered the parking garage. “Don’t be late.”
“Yes sir,” she said meekly, and she couldn’t help but smile a little at the fact that anyone who might’ve overheard them would have thought he meant they were having some kind of meeting.
Well, she supposed they were… but it was going to be unlike any meeting she’d ever been to before.
They walked through the lobby doors together, and Dave looked up and gave them both an over-bright smile. That smile faded after Mark bid her goodbye, and he glowered at her as he rose to his full height so that she could take the chair back from him.
“What was all that about?” he snapped.
“I… I don’t really think that’s any of your business,” Katherine told him, not because she was trying to be defiant, but because she had nothing else to say. After all, she couldn’t tell him that she’d just agreed to enter into a sexual relationship with Mark. Not unless she wanted to see Dave have an apoplexy.
“I’m his assistant. Why wouldn’t it be my business?” he hissed. “Ms. Hewitt, you had ought to remember who hired you.”
Katherine’s back went up. “I’m reasonably certain you can’t fire me if Mark doesn’t want you to,” she told him sweetly. “And I can guarantee he won’t give the order if you ask him.”
Dave’s face turned blotchy, his gangly body going ramrod stiff. “We will see about that, Ms. Hewitt. We will definitely see about that.”
He marched off, and Katherine had to hold back a grin.
****
When closing time finally came around, most of the superiority of having had two victories over Dave had faded, to be replaced by a nervous anticipation that had her palms sweaty and her cheeks unseasonably warm. She loitered at her desk, biding the other employees’ goodnight, weathering a stony glare from Dave as he headed out as well, and then locking the front door. She stopped by the bathroom to freshen up, pulling a tiny bottle of jasmine oil from her makeup back and dabbing some of it behind her ears—when she wanted to smell nice she used that, because she was allergic to perfume. She checked her hair and clothes twice in the mirror, and as an afterthought stripped off her pantyhose and stuffed them in her purse—he’d said he’d wanted to feel her legs after all, hadn’t he?
She arrived outside his office door at exactly half past six, took a deep breath, and knocked. His deep voice called for her to enter, and she pushed open the door to see him sitting at his desk, typing away on his keyboard. She’d only been in here once before when she’d had to deliver some files to his desk, and that was a quick in and out cycle. She took the time now to study the décor—muted green walls with a framed photograph of the Chicago skyline hanging on the one opposite the window, a large, mahogany l-shaped desk holding a computer and scrupulously organized papers. Her footfalls were muffled by the thick, cream-colored carpet as she approached to where he sat behind the desk. He rose with a smooth smile.
“Right on time,” he told her with a smile. “Come over here and sit on the edge of the desk here.”
Her blood pumped a little faster at the look in his eye. “Yes, sir.” She sat on the edge of the desk, and then jumped a little as his hands settled at her waist, pushing her back a little farther. She winced as she felt her butt press up against a paperweight and heard it clatter against the polished wood of the desk.
“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Are… are we doing this here?” she wanted to know. “Now?”
He smiled at her. “Not exactly. I am… preparing you for our first night together.”
Leaning past her, he reached out and grabbed a large white box sitting on the desk. He set it down next to her and lifted the top off. She tried to get a look at what was inside but was distracted when he reached to the zipper at the side of her pencil skirt and tugged it down.
“Lift your legs for me,” he commanded, and she did as he said. Shivers of pleasure went through her body as he slowly slid the skirt down her body, ensuring that the
pads of his fingers stroked her legs as he did so. “Good girl. Now your panties.”
“I… I thought we weren’t doing this here?”
His hands stilled at the waistband of her plain, white cotton panties. “One of the rules to this game is that you must place your trust in me. If I give you an order, you obey. If not, you are punished. Right now, I order you to not question my directions. If you aren’t willing to play by the rules, we can end this here and now, and you can walk out this door without getting a chance to experience the sensual delights in store for both of us.”
Heart hammering, she stared up at him wordlessly for a moment. His countenance was expressionless, smooth, but his eyes were hot with the promise of those sensual delights just around the corner. A large part of her, the coward that kept her from exploring her sexual side as a woman, that bound her within the confines of her apartment when she was outside of work, begged her to get off the table and walk away. But the other part of her, the one that longed for excitement, adventure, for sexual fulfillment, demanded she stay. It was that part of her that, deep down inside, made her realize she would deeply regret passing up this opportunity.
“I will stay.”
“Good.” He smiled, then slid her panties off. “No,” he murmured when she tried to close her legs. “I want to see you.”
Pressing her palms hard against the desk, she held her breath as he spread her legs wide, exposing her most private area to his gaze. Her legs trembled as she fought against the impulse to snap them shut—she’d had sex before, but the few encounters had been sloppy and quick. She had little experience with foreplay.
“Beautiful.” His fingers gently stroked her dark blond curls, sending her muscles aquiver for different reasons now. They moved down to her lips, and she could feel her core heat. “Already wet. By the time we’re done tonight you’ll be dripping for me. Begging for me. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” He lifted a black, lacy thong out of the box, then clipped a small device to the inside of it before sliding it up her legs. He adjusted the string around her hips and squeezed her ass cheeks lightly, his fingers digging in and massaging. She could feel the cold metal of the device right up against her clitoris. “You’re wearing a remote-controlled vibrator right now,” he explained, holding up a small, black remote to prove his words. “You’ll keep it on at all times when you are wearing clothing, even when you are not with me.”
“All the time?” When he arched an eyebrow, she lowered her eyes. “I mean, yes, of course.”’
He lifted her chin with the tip of a single finger. “That means when you’re at home on the couch, watching TV, or sitting at the front desk answering phones at work. It will serve as a constant reminder, so that you’re always thinking of me, always ready for me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, a breathless note to her voice this time at the images he was putting into her head.
“Very good.” Removing his hands from her hips, he brought them up to her blouse and undid the buttons. Her blouse and bra went fluttering to the floor where her skirt lay, and she bit her lip as he slid his warm palms beneath her breasts, hefting them in each hands. She gasped when he tweaked her nipples, then licked her lips when he pulled a column of fluid black silk from the box and slipped it over her head.
“Stand up.” She did as he asked, and he smoothed the dress over her hips, her thighs, the curve of her ass. It was a little black dress with a short, ruffled skirt that barely reached the end of her fingertips when she let her arms hang to the sides
There was enough support built into the bodice to accentuate and lift her breasts and so she tried not to be worried about the fact that it was strapless. Altogether it showed off far more of her skin than she’d ever done before.
“Gorgeous.” He came around behind her, his fingers sliding against the column of her neck as he fastened a black onyx choker around it, then fixed a matching pair of dangling earrings in her lobes. Each touch was like a brand, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Her attention was so completely fixated on what he was doing that her knees buckled when the vibrator suddenly sprang to life, pulsing against her clit and sending bone-melting sensation through her body. A small cry escaped her lips as he hauled her up against him, and she could feel his erection pressing up against the curve of her ass.
“Now, now,” he murmured, his lips touching her earlobe. “I can’t have you doing that in public. People will wonder what’s wrong, and what will you tell them?”
Her cheeks burned at the thought. “W-will we be g-going to a place with lots of people?” she managed, though it was incredibly hard to formulate words with the vibrator still vibrating against her clit. She tried to lock her knees so that she wouldn’t fall over when he let her go.
He chuckled. “Katherine, we’re going to a soiree. There is going to be a fundraiser tonight for a political campaign, and because I’m on the board I’m required to be there. I’m taking you as my date.”
“A fundraising soiree?” a laugh bubbled out of her, surprising her as the rebellious part of her rose up. “Awfully… strange place for… a first date...” she ended on a gasp, squeezing her legs together tightly as the pleasure built. She was so close to coming, she was certain she would go over the edge in just a few seconds.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he wagged a finger as he bit down sharply on her earlobe, the stinging pain an admonishment. The vibrator shut off and she sagged, both relief and frustration sinking through her. “Another rule. You aren’t allowed to come unless I give you permission.”
Katherine bit back a groan. How was she going to last the night? They hadn’t even left yet and she was already dripping wet and on the verge of begging. She bit the inside of her cheek to try and get a handle on herself. “Yes, Mr. Donaldson.”
“In private you must call me Master.” He pinched her bottom through her dress, making her jump. “In public, when we’re with other people, you may call me Mark.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good.” He took her arm in his. “Our carriage awaits.”
Their ‘carriage’ was a black stretch Lincoln limousine with a fully-stocked bar and seats that stretched along the sides of the limo’s interior rather than facing forward. Katherine wondered if the driver who held the door open noticed her flushed face or stiffened nipples—his expression was polite yet unfathomable, so she couldn’t tell what he thought of her. She was certain she didn’t look like any of the women he normally took around in this limo. She was too short, and not skinny enough.
His phone rang almost immediately when they got into the limo and after glancing at the screen, made his apologies to her before answering it. She sat across from him, her eyes restlessly drifting across the interior as well as the view outside, but inevitably coming back to the tiny bulge in his pants pocket where she knew the remote lay. She could feel the metal of the vibrator pressed intimately against her still, and try as she might it was impossible to relax—the knowledge that he could turn it on kept her in a mixture of dread and anticipation.
They arrived at their destination—a Hilton—and took the elevator up to the hall where the soiree was being hosted. The hall—tastefully decorated with gold and silver ribbons, flowers and balloons—was packed with people dressed in evening finery and holding champagne glasses while they sat at round tables draped in white table cloths set with candle and flower centerpieces. A band was playing soft, tasteful music up on the stage, and the banners clearly proclaimed the fundraiser and its message.
Mark snagged a champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray and handed it to her. “Drink some of this, and relax. You’re so tense you feel like a wooden board pressed up against my side.”
Katherine flushed as she took the glass from him and took a breath, trying to release the tension in her muscles. The task was made more difficult when he placed his hand at the small of her back, rubbing up and down gently—she knew he was trying to soothe her b
ut his touch only heated her more. Placing the cool rim of the champagne flute to her lips, she allowed the bubbly liquid to slide down her throat, filling her with warmth. The knot of tension in her stomach eased slightly.
“Thank you,” she murmured, then thought to add, “Master.”
Smiling, he kissed the top of her head, then took her arm again and led her through the crowds of people, stopping by tables as well as clusters of people standing to talk. She was introduced to businessmen, politicians, even a few celebrities, and though initially she was a little flustered she found herself getting into the rhythm of things, learning to give and receive polite introductions, make small talk, take and give compliments. She couldn’t quite hold back the blushes on the many compliments she was given, either directly or indirectly when one of the men or women spoke to Mark and ask where he’d managed to find her. She wasn’t certain if they were being polite, or if they really meant it, but with Mark’s arm around her and the constant smiles he flashed her it didn’t matter.
Eventually dinner was served, and they sat at a table with several other patrons. As introductions were passed around she realized they were board members of the charity, just like he.
“Who is your friend, Mark?” a woman with silver hair dressed in a trim navy suit asked. Despite the color of her hair there was not a wrinkle on her face, and her dark eyes were warm, but vigorously alert.
“This is Katherine, my assistant,” Mark told her, and Katherine had to fight to keep her eyebrows from rising. She supposed it would be rather awkward for Mark to introduce her as his receptionist, since he would have no reason to bring her to a social function otherwise. At least as his assistant she had a reason for being there with him. “Katherine, this is Emily Sandoval. She is the Chairman of the Board.”
“Very nice to meet you.” Katherine held out her hand and exchanged a firm handshake with the woman.
For His Pleasure (Dominated By The Billionaire) Page 2