Hostile Work Environment: A Dirty Billionaire Boss Romance

by Dark Angel

  "Yes, Sebastian, yes. I'm so close,” I say, barely breathing. “God,” I gasp. I need to breathe, and my heart is racing so fast. I can’t believe that I’m going to come so soon!

  "Okay, now stop."

  His sudden words make me quiver.

  What? Did he just say to stop? I am tempted to ignore him and to just come anyway.

  "You need to stop. I don't want you to come just yet."

  There's only silence coming from me as I try to continue and to not be detected.

  "I know you want to come so badly. I know just the thought of me has you making your bed all wet. Am I right?"

  "Yes," I whimper.

  "So stop. Because I told you to. You're not ready, okay?"

  Oh fuck, is he serious? Twice in one day? I dare not disobey and I don't know why. Why does he have this power over me? Why do I let him?

  "I stopped. Okay? I stopped," I say somewhat indignantly.

  "Aww, that's my girl. I'll see you tomorrow."

  He fades from the line and I'm left by myself to realize what just happened. Is this some kind of game to him? What does he mean I'm not ready? I may be a virgin, but obviously, I've had orgasms before. Again, I am tempted to restart the mission, to finish it this time. But I don't. I sulk, but I don't finish off the job. His intentions for me better be worth it. I lay my head down and curl up to sleep with dreams of Sebastian and of finally being fulfilled.

  9

  Lily

  The sound of birds chirping rings in my ears and reality dissolves my dreamy state. I awake to the fact that my alarm clock is lying on the floor. I must've kicked it in my sleep. Oh my God! I fall out of bed and grab the clock.

  "No, no, no!" I scream to it. "Not 10:30. Please don't be saying it's 10:30."

  Fuck. I am so late. I run a brush through my hair while brushing my teeth while shaving my legs after a quick plunk in the bath. I am late and it's only technically my second day on the job. I have to hurry! This is a terrible way to make an impression.

  Is there any way that Sebastian won't notice this? It's his fault anyway. He forced me into a deep sleep, a sexual dreaminess, the only place where my desires happen. That late night phone call seems to have knocked me off my game. I'm running now, out of the house, coffee is in a to-go cup. I definitely cannot forget coffee – I don't care how late I am. I jump into my beat-up 20-year-old BMW and drive like hell to work. This is not the way I'd like to begin my day or my career.

  I park as far away from the building as possible so that Sebastian does not catch sight of my ride. Unlike the supermodels that usually flank his arms, I actually have no money, and therefore my transportation is embarrassing. But what am I saying? I've never cared about the kind of car I drive before. Why should I care now? Just because Sebastian has money...so much money, well, it doesn't mean he's better than me.

  I stride as confidently as I can into work, being two and half hours late. Rose gives me a disapproving look.

  "I am so sorry," I say. "This is so unlike me. Honestly, I am such a stickler for time. I am never late. I am not sure what happened. Again, so sorry! Hey, can I get a coffee?"

  "Order it from the chef."

  "Okay. Thanks." I slink into my office, thankful to be away from Rose and thankful that hopefully, it appears that I have been here the whole time.

  I press the key for catering on my office phone. I cannot get the day started without a few cappuccinos in me and right now I'm running on half-empty.

  "Hi, catering? Um, hi. Can I get like two cappuccinos sent up?”

  This all feels really weird but I go with it, and the person on the other end says, “yes.”

  “Okay, great," I answer and hang up the phone. Shit, I didn’t say thanks. This all feels so weird, and I’m so on edge.

  Now that that's taken care of I can set my mind to the job and hopefully make up for lost time.

  I slide my new tablet on and realize to my great consternation that there are already messages from Sebastian, a series of them.

  The first one reads: You're late. It's 8 am and you're not here. That'll cost you.

  The second one says: I hope to God you're alright. Why didn't you call me if something happened?

  The third one: I just saw you drive up. So late. This is definitely a problem to which you're going to regret.

  Damn. He saw my car. He knows I'm late. What do those messages mean? I decide to put the messages aside and to focus on work. He also has an outline of tasks I'm supposed to achieve today sitting on my desk, and I set about checking them off. Maybe if I hurry, I can get a lot done and prove to him that I am a valuable worker. First I have to prove to myself that I can get the images of Sebastian fucking me out of my head. I am still reeling from last night, with that indescribable ache that takes over my whole body and mind..

  Alright, he's wanting me to create a template for making the properties he owns eco, green, and efficient without letting the tenant's rent increase. I can do that.

  I start to work calling companies about solar panel options and how they might cut costs in the long run. I compile a list of ways to outfit each apartment with water-saving technology. And, I look into how much it would cost to install Energy Star windows. I even call a roofing company that specializes in using light reflective materials that help keep buildings cool naturally. It's all very exciting really and it's a job I'm proud to do. I feel passionate about eco trends for the future and now that I know Sebastian does too, maybe it's something we actually have in common. As much as I want to think about how it would feel to be with him, I keep my mind focused only on getting a large amount of work done in a small amount of time.

  My coffees arrive and I'm so thankful. I need the caffeine buzz. This building is ultra luxe to have its own catering department. I still can't get over the size of my office, and I think about how this is really a fortunate turn of events for me as I look out over the horizon of my new view. This is a new kind of life for me and it has infinite possibilities. As much as Sebastian intimidates me, I'm grateful to him for the new beginning and I make a mental note to tell him so.

  10

  Lily

  When I step into his office, I forget everything about wanting to express my gratitude. I can’t forget my desire, though, because the sight of him, sitting at his desk, takes my breath away. The sharpness of his suit, of his chiseled jaw line, and even the power of the room...it goes right to my head and I’m practically dizzy.

  "Lily," Sebastian says, and his voice makes me shiver. "You're late." He pauses and taps his fingers on his desk, looking at me with cold eyes send shivers down my spine.

  "Yes," I say, unable to resist the urge to look down. Sebastian partially dares me to look up at him, something in his presence, and I find that I can't look away. I'm hanging onto his every word, and I know that he made it clear – clear as any of this can be – that he's going to make me suffer. And part of me just really, really wants to.

  "You don't appear to be harmed. Did something happen?" Sebastian continues. His voice has the slightest air of concern, and it makes me feel like if something were to happen to me, he would genuinely care.

  "No, no, my alarm clock just didn't..." I can't finish that sentence. I don't want him to think I'm just making excuses, even if they are true.

  "Oh, so. Some simple error, but being late is unacceptable." Sebastian stands and walks over to me. He grabs my wrist, and I'm shivering at the touch.

  His fingers swipe over my skin, and I forget how to breathe. I forget what's happening right now and a little whimper escapes my lips.

  "Lily," he says, and he tucks his finger under my chin. "Do you know what happens when you're late? When I need to punish you?"

  I can't believe this question. My face is burning hot, and my legs are actually shaking. But I look into his eyes, and I can't do anything but answer him. It is like I'm afraid that I can't let that stop me. "Sebastian, Mr. King, I..." I gulp. "I want you to do whatever you want to me," I admit. The word
s don't feel strange or foreign when they come out of my mouth, either. No, they make me feel freer than I ever have and I just want to shout them from the rooftops. I can hardly fathom what filthy things he has in mind, but I want to be able to act on all of them.

  "Whatever I want to do to you, I can. I will," Sebastian says, gripping my wrist tighter. "You're my personal slut, and I think I'll keep you that way for a very long time." His words seem to catch in his throat, and I wonder if he meant to say that last part. I don't even want to question if he means it because I want him to. I want to believe him. I have just become so enamored with him. Everything about him encapsulates my being. He overtakes my mind.

  I thought I would be nervous, or that I would feel like this was happening outside of myself, but I don't. I feel more in control when I relinquish all my power to him.

  "Bend over my desk," Sebastian says.

  I comply, my wrist still in his hand. He grabs the edge of my skirt, and he trails his fingers along the insides of my thighs. I shiver at his touch, desperate for whatever is about to happen. I can barely contain myself right now. I realize because I'm shaking and desperate.

  How did I become this person? And if I should feel bad...I just don't.

  "Please punish me," I whimper. I let the words fall from my lips, and I feel my whole body get ready for whatever is coming. I want whatever he's going to do to me. I need whatever he's going to do. I want him to punish me, which seems odd to me but I don't want to wait another moment. I don't care how he touches me as long as he does.

  "I'm going to because you were late. But it is so hot to hear that you want me to punish you. I think I should make you beg for me to finger you while I spank you. Would you like that? Would you like to beg for it?" Sebastian lifts up my skirt and slaps my ass, hard.

  "Yes!" I cry out. I yelp at the sensation of his large hand closing over my body, and I desperately want to be able to take whatever he offers. I want to be able to beg him. I think again that my fear or my nerves might hold me back, but they don't. I feel so liberated. "Please, finger me while you spank me, please punish me." I'm moaning before his hand touches me again because I'm just so aroused by how I feel at this moment.

  I can hear his breathing speed up, and I want more, so much more. I need anything Sebastian King offers. I want him to own my body, and if he wants to punish me, then I want to be punished.

  I don't think I'll ever be late again, but I do know that I'm going to enjoy what becomes of it this time.

  His hand closes down on my ass, and he releases my wrist to slide his fingers over my the lips of my pussy. The gentle way he traces there is just so tantalizing that I start whimpering. Somehow he so completely controls my body that I need him right now, and I don't care at all what I must sound like. I just want him. I want him now. "Please, please," I start to beg. He's going so slow, and I want him to know that he's torturing me. Perhaps he does know, but I can't let him. I don't know what to think anymore, and I'm just consumed with lust. I want him to take everything he wants from me, and I don't know how I will stand to wait for it.

  "Good girl," Sebastian says, practically purring. He shoves three of his very thick fingers inside my pussy, and I groan at the instant fullness. I want him never to stop because he feels so perfect inside me. I moan at the sensation of him filling me up, the way that his fingers pump into me, and then I feel the fingers of his other hand slide against my ass cheek.

  I tremble, and his fingers grip my ass, giving it a hard squeeze.

  "I think ten will do it," Sebastian says. There's something in his voice that is just so...wicked. I can barely breathe now, and then his fingers start pumping harder into me, stroking inside my pussy and making me quiver. Then his hand comes down and spanks me so hard I cry out.

  "Count," he says.

  "One," I answer immediately. I want to be so good for him, and I don't know how to explain how good it feels when he uses me and when I obey him. My ass stings and I'm desperate for relief from that and his fingers inside my pussy, but I don't stop. I want him to keep going, even though I'm wondering about how it will all feel.

  The second spank comes down harder, in the same spot. Yelping, I tremble out, "two," and his hand comes down quickly, so I get three, four, and five out through little choked sounds. My ass is on fire, and my pussy is trembling, but I know that I want more.

  I know the next one is coming and I can barely breathe. My pussy clenches around his fingers and I'm aching for some kind of release, for the torment that I'm enduring to stop, but instead, I just have to take everything he offers.

  “Three,” I yelp.

  Another lands.

  His fingers pump faster, and his slaps come down even harder. "Four," I cry out, moaning as tears streak down my cheeks.

  Another blow lands and I'm shivering.

  “Five,” I get out with a little yelp.

  His hands smacks down harder and faster.

  “Six.”

  Sebastian laughs and lands another.

  I moan in response. "Seven."

  Eight, nine and ten all come down so quickly that I am barely able to count them and I'm a quivering mess beneath his hands. Like I'm more me than I've ever been, and I feel so free, but the anxiety and need welling up within me is so intense that if I don't come soon, I may pass out. I feel all dramatic like I might die. The pleasure/pain dwelling within my body overtakes my nervous system, and I'm desperate to feel anything and everything that he has to offer. I can't take what he's doing to me and I need more but I also just want to suffer like this. There's something so incredibly erotic in the way that he's punishing me like this, and I don't want it to stop, ever.

  I'm shaking, quivering, and his fingers are still inside me pumping.

  "You want to come, don't you Lily?" he asks, and I'm desperate to. I whimper.

  "Yes, please, please let me come, please," I start begging – I have no shame. I'm not even worried that someone might hear and I just become an animal driven by lust.

  "Fuck, your pussy is squeezing my fingers so perfectly," he says with his own groan. His other hands start to rub my ass where he spanked me, and I yelp.

  "I think you should go home, Lily. I think you need to get some rest because I plan to keep you up far past your bedtime."

  I am shuddering. He leans down and bites my ass, his teeth sinking into the exact spot where he spanked me repeatedly, and I need to be able to breathe, to get some release, but then he pulls his fingers out of my pussy.

  His hot breath against my abused skin and my now heated pussy that's achingly empty are enough to drive me mad. I need more, so much more.

  I want to beg now.

  But I hold my tongue and wait for him to tell me what to do. I feel him smooth my skirt back down and I know that I need to figure out something to do with myself and I just...I wait. I wait for his instruction. He grabs my chin, fingers slick with my pussy's juices, and looks me in the face.

  I can almost taste the smile on his lips, and it turns me on so much to think that he is pleased with how I took my punishment.

  I hope that Sebastian is thinking hard on whatever he plans to do to me tonight because I have no idea what it might be, but I'm exhilarated. There's no other way to describe what he does to me. I am desperate for him in a way that I don't even mind. It just consumes me. Now, on the absolute brink of lust but not having an orgasm, I feel so under his control in the most erotic way.

  "Lily, you did very well. Do not touch yourself when you go home. Not on your way, not at all. I say when you come, and this was a punishment. You will not come. Not without my permission. Do you understand?" His voice has that incredible authoritative air to it that sweeps me up, and I almost just swoon in response.

  "I do," I nod. "Thank you, Mr. King," I say, my voice so breathy, "For my punishment." I want to add my gratitude for whatever is coming tonight, but I can't. All I can think about is one breath to another because I'm so on edge, no idea how to be able to get through each m
oment. I want to look at him forever. The way I'm still bent over the desk makes me feel so completely his. Sebastian runs his hand up and down my back, stroking me in a way that makes me feel like his little pet. I love it. I want nothing more than to be his. I don't know how I got in so deep, and I don't know how much of this is just the orgasm denial making me crazy, but I ache for him in every way imaginable. I want anything he has to give. I want to obey him in every way. I start breathing deeper, and his eyes lock with mine. I wonder what he's thinking, but I, of course, don't ask. I hope he's thinking of me like I'm thinking of him.

  "Good girl, Lily," he says. "Turn around for me."

  I do as he asks. He smooths out my clothes, his fingers not working to make me more aroused so much as to make me more presentable, but still his every touch makes me react. I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat now, it is thundering so loudly. I want him to bend me back over this desk and fuck me so hard. Part of me wants to beg for it right now. I wonder what he would do then? Would he fuck me?

  Or would he punish me again?

  If he did, even if I didn't come, would it be worth it? I decide not to gamble with fate and instead I'll be good. The way he told me I was a good girl, it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. There was an eroticism to it and some sense of pride that I don't quite understand. His approval, his sexual approval, has some kind of hold on my mind. When his hands are on my body, I don't know what to do with myself. I mean, I also don't have to. He tells me what to do. And I like it that way. Our eyes lock together and we are frozen in this moment for what seems like an eternity.

  "Go back home, Lily." His words don't break the magic or my frantic thoughts.

  I simply obey.

  I start to walk away, and I realize I can smell my arousal in the room. I turn back to look at him and see him sucking my pussy juices off his fingers. I want so badly to kiss him right now, taste myself on his lips, but I resist. I want to be good. I want to be very, very good.