Seven Days With Her Boss

by Penny Wylder

  I’ve always loved cooking, but my home has a tiny kitchen and what little money I have for food budgeting does not include the best cuts of meat or name brand items. Our meal plan for the next two days cost more than what I usually spend on myself in two weeks. This is definitely an unconventional vacation, but who am I to turn down the opportunity to eat healthy, delicious meals, even if I’m the one who’s cooking?

  “Something smells good.” Kodiche pops into the kitchen and looks into the pan. “I thought I said steak?”

  “You did, sir.” I chance a quick glance as I call him that. The way his nostrils flare tells me I've got a reaction from him; I like knowing that. “You didn’t say how you wanted it served, so I opted to make my mother’s Swiss steak. Sir.” I add the honorific a little late but squeak it out before he can respond.

  “I normally put it on the grill.”

  “Well, you told me to cook dinner, and I’ve made Swiss steak. It’s good. I promise. Do you want to taste the sauce?” I offer him the spoon, cupping my hand beneath it to avoid spilling tomato sauce onto the white tile flooring.

  I didn’t know a man licking a spoon could be so erotic, but it is. The way his tongue drags across it . . . I clench my legs together to stop my pussy from begging to be touched, to have his mouth on me down there. Kodiche takes his time tasting, winking at me as he closes his lips over the spoon’s bowl and tugging. “If all your dishes are this good, maybe I’ll keep you here longer than seven days.”

  I clear my throat and look around the kitchen. “Could you please show me where you keep the plates, silverware, and glasses for dinner?”

  “I think they’re in the dining room. I’ll go check.” Vulnerability steals across his face, shutting down the teasing passion in his eyes. “I know there are serving dishes in the cabinet to your right.”

  He doesn’t return from his search, but he is waiting for me in the dining room when I enter with the serving platter of our meal with a bottle of red wine held out in offering. “I found where the dishes are stored.” He shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t cook,” he says in some sort of explanation. “When I do, not here.”

  “At your girlfriend’s house?” I ask pointedly while ladling the sauce and pasta onto his plate.

  “No. I don’t think I’ve had one of those since high school. Wait. There was a girl in college, but that was just like two nights and a lot of tequila.” Noticing my shock at his admission, Kodiche shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t have time for serious dating. There’s been a long string of women, but nothing real before I send them on their way. I’m too busy to settle down.

  “When my dad was ready to hand over the company, I had to prove myself to the shareholders. If I ever have time to really date someone, she would have to be someone they approve of or they’d throw a royal fit. They do that enough. Our profits last quarter netted them each two hundred and fifty grand, and they still sit on their thumbs and bitch at me.” The sarcasm is a new sound to my ears. In my time as his employee, I’ve never heard anything but professionalism pass his lips.

  “Sir?” I question. I don’t know exactly how he wants me to respond, and while I want to make him feel better, overstepping our delicate bounds won’t help.

  “To answer what you’re really trying to get at, I don’t have a girlfriend nor any wife or ex-wife who will come waltzing into LaManse and question you as to why you’re here.”

  That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to know, but it is reassuring that it’s less likely someone will stumble in on me with my mouth around his shaft. “What about your parents?” I ask.

  “Mother is bed-ridden. She has been ill for a number of years. Father dotes on her but he’s mostly enamored with whichever nurse he’s hired. Mother doesn’t mind; she’s barely awake long enough to notice who is in the room with her. I went to visit her this morning while you were running my errands. She thought I was my brother.” Kodiche takes a large bite and chews it thoughtfully, sometimes running a finger around the rim of his wineglass to make it resonate.

  “He’s out in Maine with his wife and their unruly mob of children. He handles our international accounts, but that’s mostly so he can stay on the payroll with minimal effort.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.” The small talk, despite it’s odd turn, does not seem forced. It feels like he’s unburdening himself to me. “Is he anything like you?”

  Kodiche’s laugh is so loud and long that I can’t help but smile. “Oh, God! No. Origen is nothing like me. At least, that’s what my sister always said.”

  I file all this away into my memory. “I didn't know you had a sister, either.” How many siblings does he have?

  The slam of his fist on the table silences me, ending the question in the middle. “She was the most important person to me in all the world, and that’s all you need to know about her.” We’re back to the angry whispering it seems.

  We eat quietly for five minutes or so, until Kodiche cleans his plate. “Can I get you more, sir?”

  He nods, giving me a tense smile as his thanks when I sit down again. “I normally stay at my apartment near the office. It’s easier for me to get in when things inevitably get fucked up on the production floor. I never have guests unless it’s for a work event, and those I get catered. Entertaining is a waste of time. More wine?” he asks.

  “Just a little. I don’t drink much.” I wait until he pours for both of us, then ask what has been bugging me all day. “With how busy you are, how busy we both are at the office, how could you manage to swing seven days of not being there?”

  The smirk that I’ve grown to love over the years comes back with a playful wink. “I’m the boss. I can do anything.”

  “Unless I fuck it up by spilling coffee,” I whisper.

  “There is that. Vivian, I need you to get your shit together. If you fail at this, I’m going to fail, too. I need you at one hundred percent.” His words are heavy, not with the sense of trying to make me feel guilty over my mistakes, but more to let me know why he has me here—even if I don’t quite understand it.

  Standing, he says, “I’ll see you at six-thirty for breakfast.” Then he sweeps out of the room, wine glass in one hand and the nearly empty bottle in the other. I long to cry out in frustration. We were actually talking; I was learning about him, and then he just shut down as if I pushed the wrong button. Being closed out like that makes me want to leave these dirty dishes here and walk out, but I can’t. I promised him I’d do anything it takes to prove I can listen and obey his commands.

  Pouting over being abandoned to clean up the kitchen by myself, I can admit to slamming drawers and cabinets a bit roughly as I put things away. There would be no bringing to life a fantasy I had when I first got the job of him coming up behind me as I washed the dishes at my apartment and having him fuck me on the counter. At least he has a huge dishwasher and all the cleaning supplies it needs to work. I let it do the actual washing while I go get ready for bed. Given his mercurial moods, I know he could wake me at any time.

  If he can get me to wake up.

  I’ve always been a heavy sleeper and have a hard time getting going in the mornings. Exhaustion will do that to a person. My plan is to set my phone alarm to go off a few times to make sure I hear at least one of them so I can get up, shower, and be ready for the day before Kodiche is even awake. Maybe he’ll surprise me in the shower?

  I slip into the negligee he left on my bed, admiring the way the red silk drifts over my curves. Sleeping alone in something like this is a true waste.

  This whole house is beyond my wildest dreams, and having it just be Kodiche here is depressing. Even sadder is the lingering arousal making me fantasize going into his room and asking him if he likes how the silk looks on me. I cannot remember the last time I felt something so soft, so decadent, and I fall asleep stroking my stomach through the fabric, thoughts still on my gorgeous boss in the next room.

  I awake to pounding, and I pull my pillow over my head. The ne
ighbors must have started the work on their new garage a few weeks early. “Go the fuck to sleep,” I mutter before the sound registers in my waking brain. I don't have to be at the hospital until later, so all I want to do is sleep in and—the noise comes again, harder than before.

  It’s not construction, it’s someone pounding on a door!

  In a burst of terror I remember where I am. I must have overslept; I struggle to make my muscles obey my panicked demands to get out of bed, and I am barely out from under the covers and on my feet when the door opens with a slam against the wall.

  “Kneel!” He’s furious, lips thin with disappointment and anger. Black pajama pants ride low on his hips, showing his muscled and taut abdomen with all the veins begging to be licked where they disappear into the waistband . . . “This,” Kodiche snaps while waving his hand at me, “is exactly what I was afraid of. This is pointless, a waste of my time. You just won’t learn.”

  6

  The bedroom floor is cold beneath my bare legs, making me tremble while he circles around me—marking me as his prey. Adrenaline courses through me, and maybe it’s the naughty dream he woke me from, but a new shiver awakens in me. I’m not ready to let go of my job—or Kodiche—without a fight. The way he felt beneath my hands and mouth when I sucked him is worth this when I think about how we talked at dinner. There’s so much more to him, and I want to find out who he really is. I think part of that is what I saw in the book in his private library, the one about a dom and sub.

  “I can learn, sir. I can be your good girl.” My voice shakes as bad as my hands. “You just have to teach me.” Standing up, I try to keep my eyes on his as I lift my nightgown. He’s seen me naked before, when he changed me yesterday, but this is me doing it. This is heavier.

  His eyes widen, wild and dark as they soak in the view. Curiosity has him frozen, perhaps afraid to move and stop me from what I’m doing. I won’t make him wait; I need to at least try this.

  “You should spank me so I won’t be inclined to make the same mistakes. I messed up,” I admit. “I deserve to be punished.” Reaching for him, I grab Kodiche’s hand and bring it with mine to my backside. “Spank me, sir.” When he still doesn’t move, I stand on my tiptoes, stretching until my calves burn. “Kodiche, please spank me. Teach me.”

  When he does nothing I'm sure I messed up. That stupid book wasn't a clue, it was just by accident that it was sitting out. Ashamed by my actions, I shiver; then he does, too.

  It’s more like he’s shaking off his guise as a human to reveal the real Kodiak beneath his skin. Massive, swelling with each breath, animal lust makes him dominate the room. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growls, grabbing my hair. It burns, throbbing through my scalp, but I love it. I love that he’s doing this, unable to stop himself.

  “Punish me, sir. Then you can teach me to be better.” The way he’s looking at me, so insatiable, I wonder if he’ll devour me instead of spank me.

  Tugging my head back, his face nuzzles my neck, and I whimper for more when he breathes in deeply and growls against my skin. “If that’s what you want.”

  I shake my head gently. “It’s what I need.”

  I start falling, tugged off balance, and with a thud, I land over his lap as he sits on my bed. Flailing arms barely find purchase when he stills me with a heavy, hot hand in the center of my back.

  “You’re such a bad girl, Vivian.” His hand runs down my spine, just enough pressure to not tickle. “If you think you can be a good girl, a good listener, I know how to help you.” Long fingers drift down to my ass, fingertips teasing at the heat between my legs. “You’re terrible. I think you wanted this all along. But that's fine, I’ll teach you how to mind me, if that’s what you need.”

  “Yes!” I groan. “Please, sir.”

  He hums, considering me, and then the hand he had been caressing me with disappears. “There's no going back after we do this.”

  I nod, hiding my face against his leg. I need him to get on with this. I want more—need more—than teasing. I don’t understand any of these desires going through me, but I surrender myself to them.

  “Very well, my naughty Vivian. You can be my good girl, can’t you?”

  The slap of his hand on my ass jostles me, pushing me harder into his lap. Pain blooms a moment later. Yelping, I wriggle away even as the second spanking lands on the other cheek. “You should see the lovely pink glow your ass is getting.” A third and fourth blow bloom the pain out across my skin. “Spread your legs a little for me.” Another slap connects as soon as I do. “Good girl.”

  It’s starting to hurt, and I squirm away from each spanking. A heavy hand holds me still, pressing me hard into his lap. “Hold still. I’m not sure you’ve learned your lesson yet.” His fingers dip between my legs, and there’s no resistance. I’m so wet, ready for whatever else he might ask of me. “You are a dirty girl, aren’t you? I think you’re enjoying your punishment.” His hips lift, and the hard-on beneath me tells me that he’s just as into this as I am.

  I push down, rubbing my stomach against Kodiche’s erection. This time the spanking is on my labia, and I squeal, earning me a chuckle. “Do you want me to touch you here?” He parts my slit with two fingers, trailing them in my wetness down to my clit, circling it once before withdrawing his hand.

  He spanks me again, hard and fast until we’re both panting. “So red.” I can feel the heat rising on my skin as he gently runs his hand over my ass, admiring what he’s done to me. “Oh, Vivian, my good girl. If you could see how gorgeous you look like this.” Taunting me, he rubs between my inner thighs, not quite giving me what I want. “I could spank you every day just to look at you across my lap, taking what I give you. It wouldn’t be for punishment, just to admire all your charms.” Wetness seeps through his pants from the head of his cock, smearing on my belly as he explores the edge of my pussy and thigh.

  “Touch me, please,” I whine.

  He chuckles, making us both quiver. “But I am touching you. Can’t you feel me?” His fingers rub along my spine and then over my ass. “I thought I was touching you nicely. Oh!” he exclaims in mock understanding. “Do you want me to touch you somewhere else? Here, maybe?” His hands drift over my back and shoulders. “Or here?” My legs now get his gentle, probing massage.

  I let out a frustrated sob.

  “No,” he laughs. “I think my good girl wants me to touch her sweet cunt and make her feel amazing. Is that it?”

  He's waiting for something; I know what it is. “Please,” I moan, “let me come. Make me come, I can't take it anymore!”

  He makes a low, deep growl that causes my belly to tense. “Alright, I’ll touch you.” He delves into me, stretching me with two fingers, and I arch down onto his hand. It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched like this, and toys just aren’t the same. “Needy, aren’t you?” His pinky finger brushes my clit, hitting the bundle of nerves with gentle taps as he thrusts another finger into my pussy.

  My ass throbs with each lifting of my hips, not letting me forget the spanking he’d given me. But each motion gets his fingers deeper inside me, probing for my g-spot and rubbing until I squeak.

  “Is that the spot you want me to touch?” he teases. He rubs a bit harder, faster, and pressure builds stronger than I’ve ever felt. It’s never been this intense. He holds me there, on the precipice of coming, somehow easing back just enough to keep me from climaxing. “Not until you promise me, Vivian.”

  “Anything!” I would promise him anything just to let me come.

  “Promise you’ll do better, not oversleep, and do everything I say.” He flexes his fingers out inside me, bordering on too much pressure, and I love it. “I’m your boss and need you to obey me in every way, to trust me to know what’s best for you, for me, and for our company.”

  “Yes. I swear! I’ll be better. I’ll be your good girl, sir,” I promise.

  “My beautiful, good girl. Come for me.” He rocks his fingers across m
y g-spot, working it until I can’t stop moving with him. Reaching around me with his other hand, I’m held in a horizontal embrace as he finds my clit with two fingers, rolling it between them.

  “Fuck!” I’m swept up and over, chasing the pleasure as it crashes into me. A rush flows through me, a floating sensation as my body releases, and then he’s gasping along with me. My clitoris tingles; he massages it once more until I squeak.

  Kodiche laughs slightly, before pulling his hand out of me. “You taste so sweet,” he mumbles around his fingertips. “I’ve never made a woman squirt before.”

  It takes an extreme amount of effort to lift my head and look over my shoulder at him. My pussy clenches at the sight of him licking his fingers. Flustered, I relax back down over his legs and try to think about all that just happened. First, I really liked the spanking more than I thought I would. Second, earning that “good girl” affected me a lot. It was more than just sexual. I liked pleasing him, doing things right. Third, Kodiche is really fucking good with his hands.

  I didn’t expect any of this, not even after yesterday morning when he undressed me. Did he expect this? Did he think I would go through with it? Why? Am I the only one he’s done this to?

  Jealousy burns in my chest as I think of any other women being like this with him, over his lap and at his mercy. I know I’m not his first, just as he isn’t my first, but it irks me more to think of him as someone else’s boss—dom, I guess—than to be their lover. The thought bothers me more than I want to consider, and I try to wriggle off his lap. One of his hands clamps down on my hip holding me still. The other smooths over his hair and roughly rubs his face; I can just see a hint of his expression from my position, and he looks as lost as I feel.

  His demeanor changes, hardening with resolve as he stands, dropping me to the floor in the motion. “On the bed. Now,” he barks.