by Christa Wick
She'd have to look at his face first and her eyes kept stalling at his torso. Bare-chested, fresh from a work-out with his immaculately sculpted chest and arms still coated with perspiration, he sat behind his desk watching her. Hearing the chair creak, she glanced over to find him leaning forward, his arms resting along the polished surface.
"Stop pretending you're offended and sign it, Katelyn."
She glared at him, her gaze bouncing off his nose to land on his ear. "I am."
"You're too busy looking at my chest to be offended, beautiful." He ran a hand over his torso, drawing her attention to a drop of sweat that had beaded at the tip of one small, hard nipple before streaking down his tanned skin. "Which is hardly fair the way you're all buttoned up…"
His pause dragged her attention up to his face. His gaze pointed directly at her nipples. They had puckered inside her blouse as she read the contract, the graphic terms mixed with subtle phrasing causing more than just her breasts to ache. She only hurt harder when he trapped the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth and continued staring.
She shielded her chest with the contract, the shake in her hands restarting. She watched his gaze slowly inch up until he looked at her with the most sexually intense expression she'd ever seen. Her skin flushing hotter, she slapped the paper on his desk unsigned.
"I'm going."
He shook his head, uncoiled from his chair and slowly rounded the desk, counting down each step to reach her.
5…4…3…2…1
Looking over her shoulder at him, she watched his hands reach for her, grasp her upper arms and lightly squeeze.
"Breathe, baby."
Realizing she'd stopped the second he stood up, she sucked a deep breath in.
"That's my girl."
Mesmerized by the contact, she nodded, caught herself half way and stopped. She wasn't his girl, would never be his girl. He only wanted a week with her.
She sucked in another mouthful of air, surprised at the sudden pain in her chest.
He trailed his index finger along her neck to her hair. She had pulled it into an updo that morning and he pulled one pin free. "I heard you broke the mugger's nose and wouldn't let the cops drop you off anywhere."
Lifting her chin, Katelyn looked up at him. "How…"
He pulled another pin free, his gaze searching for the last pin as he answered. "You think, with everything I have, I can't get someone on the Chicago PD to talk?"
Finding the third pin, a smile lit his face. He eased it out, tossed the piece of metal onto his desk with the other two and ran his fingers through her hair. He tightened his grip, his fingers locking around her skull so he could force her to look up at him.
Fingering one lock, he stared into her eyes. "I want to know what this feels like spilling against my stomach, your mouth on my cock, those soft lips sucking me until I'm so close to coming I have to take you."
She closed her eyes. She couldn't look at him, his expression so tense it infected her with need. Reaching up, she tried to pull his hands away. "What else did they say?"
He let go of her, only to push the chair closer to the desk and trap her between the two pieces of furniture. His broad chest pressed against her shoulders as he reached out and pulled the pen and paper within her reach.
"Nothing. That was all it took to know you're pathologically independent."
She stiffened, a little huff of air leaving her body. Grabbing hold of the chair's armrests, she tried to force her way up.
"Not so fast, baby." He pressed down on her shoulders, his leverage and strength too much for her. Caressing his way down her arm, he wrapped his fingers around her hand and placed it on the desk next to the pen.
Lifting her hair to the side, he brushed his lips along the curve of her neck. A shiver ran through her. He must have felt it because he groaned and reached one hand over her shoulder to cup a breast. Beneath the crisp linen shirt and bra she had dressed in that morning, her nipples were hard. Squeezing her swollen flesh, he kissed her neck again. He thumbed one nipple, the simple sensation provoking a moan from Katelyn. Her flesh began tingling, the throb building between her legs causing her to squirm.
**********
Griffin stared down at Kate as she fought her desire. She wanted to sign, he could see that. Her skin flushed a pale pink and she kept sucking and biting at her lower lip. Inside her blouse, her nipples tented the fabric and the faintest brush of his hand across one sensitive tip made her gasp with need.
But she still wouldn't pick up the damn pen and sign!
Fine, no rule saying he had to play fair. He sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth, his other hand curling across the top of her thigh. "I promise, baby. All the parts of you I break, you won't miss."
She moaned again, exactly like she had in the back of his limo. His cock ached from just the sound of it. Impatient, he lifted her from the chair and sat her down on the desk. She tried to slide off. He pulled her back, spreading her legs so that the top of his thighs and his cock filled the space between them.
Easy…gentle…don't scare her.
Not easy, not gentle. This close he could smell her arousal. She bit down hard on her lip, searching for her own control, and the sight undid him. He jerked her tighter to him, his cock throbbing against her mound as his mouth fastened against her neck. He sucked, a thumb relentlessly working each nipple. She didn't touch him, her fingers flexing and stretching with indecision.
"You got into the limo this morning because you wanted this." He offered a small bite then kissed just below her ear. "Not another shot at the job or some other spot in my company. This."
She closed her eyes. He saw admission in the gesture but not an ounce of surrender. His hand knotted in her hair to tug her head back. He kissed the exposed underside of her chin. With a growl, he yanked her off the desk, spun her around and pushed her chest against the surface. His hands made quick work of pants and underwear, the fabric down around her ankles before she finished gasping.
He hadn't brought her to climax in the limo, couldn't have done so without losing the last thin strand of his own self-control. He'd remedy that now.
Pressing his chest against her back, he wedged his hands between her thighs and cupped her mound. Her cream slickened his palm, freeing a moan stuck in his throat. He rubbed the pad of his fingers along her pussy, gathering her juices from their source and spreading them up to her swollen clit.
He'd tease her until she signed and then he'd make her pay for her stubborn resistance with her total surrender. He rolled the hood of her clit between his thumb and index finger, his gaze locked on her parted lips and flushed cheek. "Pick up the pen or tell me you want to leave."
She did neither, only pressed her lips tightly together and drew her fisted hand close to her chest.
"Baby, I'm not going to let you come until you sign it." He eased two fingers into her searing hot core and then twisted inside her to gather a thick coating of her juices. He slid the fingers up over the smooth skin of her perineum to massage the tight pucker of her ass.
Katelyn shook, her whole body trembling. Her hips dipped in little circles, hitting against the overhang of his desk. He pushed three fingers back into her pussy. She tightened around him, her muscles rolling along his invading digits to milk as much pleasure as she could. Soft moans whispered past her lips.
"As good as my hand feels, Katelyn, my cock is ten times better." His teeth grazed along her ear. "Just pick up the pen, baby, so we can both have what we want."
Biting hard on her bottom lip, she shook her head.
**********
Griffin stopped, withdrew his hand. The absence of his touch made her ache. Opening her eyes, she looked at the pen. She didn't want his money and she wouldn't talk. Hell, she didn't want to see him ever again. That would only force her to relive the humiliation of wanting him so damn badly.
When he took a step back, she realized she had resisted too long. He was done with her. Fine, it was better that way.
She detested most of the wealthy men she had met in her job – they had everything, took everything and gave next to nothing. Griffin was no exception.
She started to push up from the desk.
His hand landed in the middle of her back, exerting just enough pressure that she couldn't stand without straining. "Don't think I'm done with you, beautiful."
Hearing the rustle of his running pants drop to the floor, her bones melted inside her. He grabbed her hips, the fat crown of his cock rubbing along her needy slit.
She should hate the bastard instead of being so wet her juices dripped down her thighs. She'd denied herself too long, too afraid to count on a man for anything, even an orgasm. Now she was vulnerable around someone as masterful as Griffin Montgomery.
His hands slid down to her drenched pussy. Spreading her labia, he worked his thumbs in and out of her, priming her for his cock. Halfway to coming, her cunt throbbed with hard contractions, her clit jerking up and down with each pulse of need running through her.
"I'm going to fuck you every day this week." He positioned the head of his cock against her opening, teasing her with a wiggle of his hips. "Several times a day."
He took a shallow dip in, the broad diameter of his cock stretching her almost to the point of pain. "You'll come only when I say you can."
Her hand clawed along the top of his desk before curling around the pen.
"Anything I want." He pulled out, rubbed his slick length between her thighs and over her achy clit. One finger hooked her bottom lip to force her mouth open as his other hand gripped her ass, his thumb finding the nervous pucker of her anus and stroking it. "And, baby, I want everything."
Lightly pressing his chest against her back, he moved his hand to cover her mound, working her clit as he pushed his cock all the way in. "You, on your knees, blindfolded, bound and sucking my cock."
She started to shake, thighs quivering as her cunt worked his length. He was big, butting against her cervix to reach previously unexplored depths.
His palm landed on the paper, dragging it along the desk as his cock pushed all the way into her hot channel and stopped. His other hand stilled against her pussy.
"Sign it, Katelyn, or go home."
**********
Seeing the pen leave the paper with the final flourish of her signature, Griffin relaxed. She was his for a week, maybe longer if he didn't tire of her. Gazing at her from the side, he saw her eyes flutter shut. She squeezed him at the same time, her spine curling with impatience.
Chuckling, he stopped himself before he could foolishly plant a kiss on her shoulder. That would only make her mistake who was in charge. He withdrew from her, his balls pulling tight in protest. Reaching down, he jerked his running pants up.
She whimpered, the sound sexy as hell, but he couldn't give her what she wanted. She needed to be disciplined, had to know there were consequences to telling him no and holding back when she wanted it every bit as badly as he did.
He dragged the side chair a few feet from her and sat down, his gaze on her exposed pussy as she squirmed. He inhaled, stared mesmerized by the magnificent ass and cunt he wanted to bury his face against. His cock twitched and he had to grip the armrests to keep from stroking it. He ached to be inside her, especially when her knees buckled for a second and her pretty little ass bobbed.
"Please."
Her needy whisper reached straight into his chest and squeezed.
"What did you say?" He barked the question, instantly regretting his harsh tone when he saw her flinch.
"Please." Her ass dipped again only to be propped back up as she clenched her thighs together. "I thought you wanted me."
Baby, you've got no idea.
"Quiet." He couldn't take the ache he heard in her voice. Not like him to cave, but she wanted pleasure and he needed to give it to her.
A smile crept over his face.
"Spread your legs, Kate."
Stepping the rest of the way out of her panties and slacks, she complied. Despite yesterday's injury, she had arrived wearing heels. The three-inch elevation accentuated the curve of her calves, the muscles bulging and sculpted. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees.
"Touch yourself."
She stiffened.
He growled.
"Every time you hesitate, I'm going to punish you. You're several days deep, baby. Now touch yourself."
She reached down, her hand shaking as she took the first wet stroke.
"Keep rubbing, Kate. I want to see those fingers in your pussy."
Her compliance came with a whimper and a roll of her beautiful ass.
"Deeper."
"Mmm…" She tried, her slender fingers not long enough to manage any real penetration.
Deciding to help her, he slid his chair forward. "Take my hand."
She did, holding his palm and guiding the thick triangle of his fingers toward her opening. He kept his arm relaxed, forcing her to decide on the timing and depth with which he penetrated her. It only took a few seconds before she was jamming him hard and fast, her sweet pussy gripping and clutching at his fingers as she approached the apex of her satisfaction.
He waited until she was right at the edge and then twisted his hand free.
"No!" Her muscles kept flexing, the entrance to her channel winking in and out of sight. She reached between her legs, fingers curling between her labia.
"My pussy." He wrenched her arm away. "You don't get to touch it unless I tell you to and you don't say no ever again."
Her arm tensed, rebelling against his grip. He rose, grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to him. "Do you understand?"
When she didn't answer, he reached his other hand between her legs, hooking two fingers inside her, the tips pressed flat against the thick, rippled bulb of flesh just inside her gate. He inched his fingertips roughly back and forth. "Answer me."
"Yes."
He shifted his head until he was staring into her hazel eyes. "Yes, what?"
"It's your pussy." She shuddered, a moan tearing from her throat. "I won't touch it without your permission."
Satisfied, he released her and grabbed her pants and underwear from the floor. "Follow me."
**********
Griffin led her to a bedroom at the far end of the house. Richly decorated and very masculine, the room was all dark wood and deep chocolate and burgundy coverings. On the center of the bed, atop a mink throw, a black dress waited for her.
Half of a black dress -- the top a sleeveless double V neckline that dipped down to her navel and the skirt's hem only an inch or two lower than the top of her thighs. She assumed the tiny black triangle next to it with strings attached were panties -- or an eye patch for a pirate with a very small head. On the floor was a pair of strappy black heels.
Griffin draped her slacks and underwear next to the bedpost before turning to her. "In my office -- one hour." He pointed at the black slip of nothing. "Dressed and on time."
She nodded, wondering how she would last an hour with all the heat knotting inside her.
He moved back toward the door, stopping in front of a giant armoire. He slid the front panel open to expose a big screen television. He turned it on, revealing a live picture of her standing there in just her heels and blouse.
"You're recording--"
"No, only watching." His gaze returned to the real thing, his eyes lazily stroking the soft fur of her sex before he nailed her with a hard look. "Remember the rules or face the consequences of disobeying them."
She waited for him to leave then checked the time on the clock. Fifty five minutes. Pure torture unless the bathroom wasn't wired. She walked over to the door and flicked the light on. The view on the television immediately split down the middle, the left side showing the entire bathroom from a top-down fisheye.
Fuck -- he had her trapped both ways, an ice cold shower the only relief she could hope for.
Forty five minutes later, flesh bumps lining her skin from the cold shower and barely
there dress, she waited outside his office door. The room was at the end of a long gallery. Across from the door a single chair and side table with a clock. Staring at the minute hand counting off the time, she wondered how many women had stood in the exact same spot for the exact same purpose.
Dozens, probably. The corners of her mouth dipped and she stared down the gallery. She could leave. The only penalty in the contract was forfeiting any right to the fifty thousand dollars. It sure as hell wasn't the money that had caused her to sign. She could scrape by until she found another job.
She had signed because, for that one short moment in time, his touch meant more than her own dignity. Only he wasn't touching her now, his need so little he had calmly walked away from her and stayed away for an hour while she burned for him.
She took a step away from the door, then another.
The handle twisted, the door quickly swinging inward. She froze, afraid to turn and meet his gaze.
"You're early." He reached across her chest, grabbed her opposite shoulder and turned her toward the door before letting go.
"I was waiting to knock."
"Don't lie, Kate. You're too easy to read." Reaching out again, he touched the back of her neck with his fingers and gently drew her into the room.
When she was inside, he closed the door and pointed at a small circular table three feet high and near the window. "Sit."
Approaching the table, she saw that it had a small step attached to it. Her chest tightened as she thought again of all the women he must have done this with. She stopped in front of the table and stared at it, wondering if all the asses over all the years had left an impression.
From the direction of his desk, she heard Griffin sinking into his chair.
"Kate, my time is worth two-thousand-dollars a minute."
She turned her head and looked at him, not quite glaring but as close as she dared. He lifted his brows, the perfect picture of a bored billionaire dealing with a tedious employee.
"Stop wasting it."
Her cheeks coloring, she dropped her gaze and put one foot down on the base. She stepped up, her hand smoothing down the back of the skirt to position it.