Hostile Work Environment: A Dirty Billionaire Boss Romance

by Dark Angel

  “You have made some not so smart decisions, perhaps, but you don’t have to lie down and take any bullshit that comes your way,” Ethan says. I see his nostrils flare for just a second. He’s angry all over again just remembering what happened.

  I’m flattered honestly. It arouses me to think of him, protecting me like that. If only he could always be there when I needed saving. It’s a melancholy thought, because I’m here to get Ethan out of my system, not ache for him more. After this, that’s supposed to be it for us. That makes my stomach burn, and my eyes nearly start watering. Fuck, I can’t feel that way.

  “Coming here was bold. Wanting me inside you once so you can forget me forever, it isn’t smart in some sense, but in other ways…well, I would have a difficult time saying no to that. But I want to give you one last chance…you can walk away. We don’t have to do this,” Ethan says. He’s trying to be kind, let me know that even though we both feel how this has gone too far to turn back, that we could anyway.

  I see him swallow, and I’m mesmerized by the column of his throat. I look up his jawline at that stubble and ache to feel it against my skin. I want him to touch me again.

  I don’t want to stop now. I want to move forward.

  Ethan doesn’t believe that I can have sex with him just once, and that it won’t serve to get him out of my system.

  And I’m not certain that I’m worried if he’s right. Not right now. I tell myself that I’m not going to think on it anymore. I need to be able to experience this because it has consumed my whole being. I can’t be without him. My skin will disintegrate unless he touches me.

  This is more than him bragging, he’s telling the truth. I can tell Ethan is genuine. And he’s probably right.

  “I want this, please,” I say, squeezing the chair as if I might rocket away otherwise.

  “Emmaline,” Ethan groans. He stands and walks toward me and my heart rate thunders, and all I can hear is the blood rushing, my breathing.

  I realize I'm ruining the moment in some ways, but I have to ask. “Ethan?” I breathe and look at his face, hoping against hope that I’m not asking the thing that will crush me.

  “Yes?” Ethan says. His voice is low, seductive, pulling me deeper and deeper into this attraction. His hands go to my shoulders, squeezing them.

  It makes me feel safe and comforted, which is what I need right now, desperately, because I know I have to ask this question. “Did you love my mother?” I ask, exhaling the words and holding my heart out for him to crush.

  “I loved your mother,” Ethan says, his husky voice making me shiver. His eyes cast downward for a moment, and then return to mine. His hands don’t leave my shoulder, and their squeezing hold should make me more uncomfortable. This is all inappropriate, and I should be uncomfortable. But I can’t be. Instead, I’m something more. Aroused? Unsure? I don’t know how to describe the confusing mix of feelings swirling inside of me and confusing me. I don’t want him to stop touching me, when that’s all I should want. I should will my body away from him. This is wrong; this is strange.

  “Did she love you?” I finally ask. Not at all the appropriate line of questioning for my professor. If I wanted to make myself feel like more of a child, maybe I’d be thinking, oh, he started it. But that’s not the line of thinking in my brain at all. And I don’t even know what answer I want. Is it worse if my mother loved him, or if she didn’t?

  Am I his second chance? Am I his second round?

  For a moment, I think I might be misreading this whole situation. Why would my professor be interested in me? The situation in which he found me, that he saved me from, that’s what put us in this strange conversation.

  But I feel how his hand is on me…protector, or interest? The blaze in his eyes says so much more. More than some duty or honor, more than some past that’s lighting up old memories that he may have forgotten. Ethan's eyes are saying something to me.

  And I want to hear them.

  It's impossible to do anything but hear them; it's like the heated air around us is shouting.

  “Emmaline, your mother always thought of me as a brother, and I was fine with that. We were friends, and that made more sense. But for a moment, when I saw you, you weren’t my student or just some woman in danger. I would certainly help either. But I saw you, and it was young Joelle and I lost all good sense I had in me. I could've killed them.” Ethan is breathing too fast, ragged attempts at capturing air. I never thought I’d see him so undone. He always has such composure, is always so calm and together. It's one of the things I’ve always found so interesting about him…yet now this state of unrest has me even more intrigued.

  “So imagine my surprise when I see you again and I…I think nothing about your mother. I think about you, Emmaline, and I can’t do that either. I want you to believe me when I say that I’m not thinking about your mother anymore, and that shouldn’t even matter. I’m fucking tangled up in knots because all I can think about is your sweet body yielding beneath me.”

  Dear God, how am I supposed to respond to that? I can’t think for a moment. Can’t find my way through this thicket in my mind when I should be determining the right move. I know I should be avoiding the whole situation. Right now I could shut this down. It's terrifying, seeing how unnerved he is, and I could just escape this whole dangerous situation.

  But I can’t get him out of my system. I want to tell him as much. “You’re…you’re always on my mind when you shouldn’t be. I can’t begin to imagine the things a man like you could do to my body…I’ve never had more experience then what those boys…” I can’t say it. I don’t want to say it. It taints the idea of his hands on me to think about someone unbidden and filthy and trying to take me.

  “You—that’s not sexual experience. That’s rape. Are you telling me that you’re a fucking virgin?” He gets into my face now, pressing his forehead to mine. “What the hell am I going to suffer by not turning around and choosing to taste you in my office?” He tucks a finger under my chin. The heat between us boils my blood and creates a new shade of need in me darker than I’ve ever known before. “Do you want me to walk away?” His voice is dark whispers, desires I don’t quite understand, all promises that I only need to answer to them.

  “I want you to fuck me so well that I’ll never forget it,” I say, my voice a whimper. “Because then we’ll both have done it, and we can forget then, right? We can quit then. We don’t have to worry about it, and we can go our separate ways after this semester.”

  Something passes through his eyes that I can’t understand. “You think there’s any chance of that working, once I’ve had that deep of a taste of you?” The darkness in his voice makes me shiver. Maybe he’s telling me exactly the thing I should listen to, but you know what? I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be saved. I barely understand what’s happening when I’m with him, but I don’t want to worry about that. I don’t want to worry about anything.

  Could I trust him? I don’t know, and I don’t care.

  My body doesn’t care. I want to feel his on mine if it destroys me, and knowing that I could maybe forget it all should I be able to get the taste of him out of my mouth.

  “Why don’t we find out?” That’s all I can say. I don’t want to worry about the truth or the consequences.

  I'm consumed by him. I don’t even understand what is happening. I just want him to touch me, and for one long night I could believe it was forever.

  “You can’t possibly know what you’re asking,” he says. I can tell he’s conflicted. He doesn’t want to fight against this.

  “Please,” I whimper.

  Emmaline

  The firm pads of his fingers sweep over my skin and I’m numb to anything but the whispering feel, coloring in the lines of sensation on my body that seem as though they don't exist anymore. I don’t care that this is wrong. It most certainly is wrong, and the fact that I don’t care should dredge up some worry. Instead I’m desperate for nothing but the sating of my
desires. “Touch me,” I whimper. I need his hands on me. “Please?” I moan out, just the thought of him touching my pussy makes me want to melt.

  “I am touching you,” Ethan says, the corners of one side of his mouth turning up with a smug grin.

  I can’t take this now. He knows what he’s doing to me.

  “Touch my pussy,” I say quietly. The words shock me. The thrill that shoots through me shocks me even more. I can’t believe how bold I am.

  I see a blaze shoot through his eyes and his pupils dilate further, he leans almost unnoticeably closer. But as I’m so tuned into everything about him right now, I do notice.

  This man is so much more than some teacher-crush fantasy that haunts the occasional passing thought. He’s my obsession, consuming every spare moment and making me think nothing but thoughts of his hands on me. On my pussy.

  “I need to feel you there. I want you to touch me where no one else has,” I confess. My voice is husky, my mouth is dry, my throat is scratchy. These words don’t come easy. I need him to know what I need. I get the feeling that he wants me to be just as complicit, no matter the reality of the situation. He needs me to be as much as part in my defiling as he is.

  But maybe it just turns him on.

  The idea makes me bite my lip. I climb up on his desk. Fuck what the world thinks.

  Still, there’s that chance that I’m not going to get away with the only thing I’ve ever wanted so badly.

  And that’s the moment I know my soul is utterly damned, lost to me because if I get caught, I don’t give a fuck now. I want Ethan and it doesn’t matter if I get caught.

  I spread my knees apart an inch and rest back on my wrists.

  Ethan holds out two fingers and presses them between my knees, pressing them apart, and then he spreads me wide. His two fingers sweep up my thighs and slip into my thong. I’m sticky with lust and when his fingers touch me I shiver so hard I almost fall over. His other hand is on the small of my back, palm flat against me and holding me up. I know that he’s not going to let me fall.

  “I’ve got you, Emmaline,” he says, words an equal part his assurance of my wavering not going unnoticed — and it's a truth that rings out to both our ears. I’m trapped in the web of our lust. He has me now. I cannot escape.

  I don’t want anything more.

  His fingers stroke my pussy lips, slowly, sensually, so that I’m ready to cry out for more. But I don’t dare. I’m moaning, sucking in my lower lip, and watching his face. I can’t take my eyes off his face. He’s a whole new man like this. Ethan is already an imposing man but now he towers over me.

  His hands seem massive. Those two fingers are a huge invasion, and they’re only brushing over my skin. I can’t imagine the feel of them in me…and I can’t think of anything else. Those fingers sinking into me, God, they’d fill me up so much I might scream.

  Oh, fuck. I whimper aloud at the thought.

  I want him to fuck me. I do.

  But his cock…I felt a hint of it when he kissed me the first time. But how on earth will I ever be able to take that cock in my pussy? He must be so massive. I don’t even know if it's possible. And…despite not knowing much about sex, now I know that I desperately want that. I want to feel his enormous cock dragging me under and making me so lust filled I can’t breathe. I want him to sink his cock so deep inside me that I can’t think of anything and I’m screaming out.

  “You’re softer than I can stand, baby girl. That sweet pussy of yours must taste like a summer sunshine,” Ethan practically purrs.

  Taste? Oh God! The idea of his mouth on my pussy is so deliciously wicked I actually spread my legs a little more, something I didn’t think was possible.

  “You like that idea, Emmaline?” Ethan says my name and I shiver, nod. I want that more than I knew I could want something.

  He hooks his fingers in my thong and pulls them down so slowly. I’m shaking with need. My thighs are trembling; my bottom lip is quivering.

  Ethan looks at me with such warmth I think I might cry on the spot. “Are you okay?” His question is entirely genuine. “Listen, we don’t have to — “

  I don’t let him finish. “You misunderstand,” I say in a breathy voice. “I don’t want you to stop. I’m not afraid. I just need you so much,” I confess.

  Ethan

  There are parts of your life where you realize that you’re about to lose yourself to a choice. You’ll hear the words coming out of your mouth, see the situation at hand, and know what you’re supposed to do. What’s right.

  That’s how I knew this was the end of me.

  Because she thinks I’ll be able to fuck her sweet virgin pussy and then we’ll both pretend nothing ever happened, like this is an itch we can scratch.

  I know damn well that it isn’t. That we’ll be obsessed.

  And I don’t save her. Nothing is going to save her from me.

  But my cock won’t be denied, not when I listen to her tell me about how she wants to be able to give me her damn virginity and I’m about to fucking burst.

  I will fucking have her. Claim her. Make her mine. Emmaline is everything I need, everything I crave, and tonight she’s my prey. I’ll go in for the kill because I have to have her. She wants this. She wants it so damn much and I want to give it to her.

  “Want me too much? I don’t think that’s possible,” I breathe the words and that’s it, we’re both utterly damned. “Take off your clothes and get on your hands and knees,” I tell her, and I sit in my leather wingback. “In front of me, here,” I point.

  Emmaline licks her lips, and slowly her trembling hands remove her clothes, casting them into a pretty little fabric heap on the floor. When she’s totally bare before me I look at every inch of her perfect soft skin and I ache to get my cock out and I want to fucking cum all over her body before I even fuck her. I need to claim her, possess her. I have to own her, body and soul. I want every pleasure that her body feels to belong to me.

  “I don’t do normal, not ordinary…when I fuck you, I want to own your body. Will you surrender to me?” I ask Emmaline.

  If she says no, if she doesn’t want this, it all ends here. I don’t want what she doesn’t want to give.

  Nude, her eyes hooded with lust, her hair swaying behind her in a curtain of chocolate waves, Emmaline steps toward me. “I want that. I want you. I’m yours,” she says, her voice going breathy at end of her sentence.

  “Good,” I say, barely able to contain my desire. I swallow. Twirling my index finger in the air, I nod.

  Emmaline obeys, already moving to get on her knees before me.

  She’s always such a good little princess, always so quick to obey. Her natural submissive tendencies make my cock nearly jump out of my pants. I ache to pull it out and ram it up her virgin pussy, the pussy she’s putting on display for me now. Only I have tasted her. Only she and I have fingered that pussy. And I need to be the only cock in her life.

  For tonight.

  Well, that thought just urges me on further. I want to fuck her so good it ruins both of our lives, because I know that when I anchor myself in her, and we both cum, neither one of us will be any good for anyone else again. I ache to have her before me like this. I rest my palm flat on the small of her back. I see her nipples get stiffer, and a small shiver slides through her body but she doesn’t back away. Her pussy is shiny, it is so slick and wet for me.

  I run my hand down to her ass, cupping each cheek. Her porcelain, soft skin, is heated silk against my hand.

  “Emmaline, you’re so beautiful. I’m honored to be the first cock to enter you princess,” I tell her. I want to tell her that I want to be the last. But that’s not the arrangement, and that’s not the logical thing to do.

  Fuck, who am I kidding? Us fucking at all is not logical at all.

  But no way in hell am I not fucking her sweet, tight pussy. That perfect little pussy is mine.

  “If you want me to stop, then you need to say red,” I tell her, forcing myse
lf to pull my hands off of her. I should have told her safe words before I put her in such a vulnerable position, but I got so caught up in the moment. Emmaline’s greatest danger is herself, because I lose control with her. I need to protect her, cherish her, own her, defile her…

  I walk around her, setting down before her. I tuck my finger under her chin. “If you need me to stop, red, and I stop and keep you safe. If you want me to slow down, to step back and let you get control of yourself again, you say yellow.” I look into her eyes. “Understood? Nothing you don’t want will happen to you, and if you want to stop, that’s that and we stop,” I repeat.

  “I understand, Ethan,” Emmaline nods. “Please, my body is yours. Show me everything that you want to do to me. All I want is you,” Emmaline says, her eyes staring into mine and daring for more.

  Okay, princess, you say those words to me, and you’re fully unlocking the beast trapped inside this man. The one who’s passion is all-consuming.

  I sit back in the chair and I put my hands back to her ass. “I’m going to spank you. I want to warm your body up and help you let go of everything that holds you back, that you’ve internalized and kept inside. It will start to hurt more before it feels better, likely, but it will be the most soul-cleansing thing you’ve ever experienced, if you truly want to give yourself to me. And if you don’t, then you say ‘red’, you say ‘yellow’ — I will never truly harm you, Emmaline,” I tell her.