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Executive Assistant

Page 23

by 12 Author Anthology


  A muted beep sounded and her musings were answered. The voice that got her juices flowing and her heart pounding—and swelling with something far bigger than lust—sounded right at Eileen’s elbow, slightly distorted, but eminently recognizable. The gusset of her panties wasn’t up to the task of containing her response and she pressed her thighs together, hoping the perfume of her arousal wasn’t apparent to Eileen. He’d prowled her perimeter for months now, only expressing his intent and expectations these past few weeks. The time had passed so very quickly, yet she’d never felt so certain of her decision.

  “I’m ready for her now, Eileen.”

  “Ms. Webb? He’ll see you now.”

  That wasn’t exactly what he’d conveyed. He was ready for her. Jana wondered if he’d made his preparations earlier in the day, or if he was always prepared and she wasn’t the first—she shut that thought down, stillborn. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t the first. She meant to be the last. Seth Braxton was hers if she did well in this interview, and if he lived up to her expectations. Like he wouldn’t.

  Rising to her feet, the heels elevating her to just past average height for a woman, feeling every sensual inch her gender, she sashayed across the divide of the tiled floor to where the future master of her heart and body awaited behind that formidable door. Her hand lifted with purpose, although a last fit of nerves foiled an assertive rap to request entry. Into his office. Past the point of no return.

  ****

  The timid tap on the heavy wooden panel signalled the beginning of what Seth Braxton had been anticipating—and plotting—for months. Little Jana Webb had been on his radar the instant he saw her; full figured, mouth wateringly sexy and so vivacious and full of life. She’d been the center of attention in a small group of men and women at a house party he’d never intended to grace with his presence, and now accepted Fate had a very different plan for him.

  Seth Braxton was a household name in athletic equipment, having mastered the three most popular sports in the country both in high school and college. More importantly, he was known for championing his fellow players’ access to safe, protective equipment regardless of how the owners and managers perceived the cost. He’d built an empire on that early altruism and had contacts everywhere. Hence the obligatory appearance at Aaron’s party. Seeing Jana had been…even now it was difficult to wrap his head around what seeing her had done for him.

  She was everything he’d ever wanted physically, wrapped up in one glorious package, but it was the sparkling intelligence in her cat-green eyes that sealed the deal. He could have most women, and had done so, but this wasn’t merely about sex. It was about total possession, complete mastery—something highly ironic, because to merely observe Jana Webb, one wouldn’t determine a hint of submissiveness. And that challenge had set him on a long journey, the ending right on this side of his office door. Except hopefully not the end, but a beginning. She was so strong willed. Would that personality trait help her submit?

  “Enter.” His cock rose with every inch of the door opening.

  She stood framed in the doorway for a moment, before stepping through and shutting it behind her. Shutting the outside world out. He didn’t tell her to lock it. No one would dare enter without permission, but Jana wouldn’t know that, and the constant prick of awareness that someone might come in would keep her on her toes.

  As always, even wearing such drab office wear, she took his breath away, although he took care not to let her see it. Control was imperative, and if it was a failing, then something he’d live with always. But her lush curves tested him sorely.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Webb. Please take a seat.”

  He had to give her credit. With a muted thank you, sir, she somehow toned down the strut that kind of footwear forced on a woman, and took her place on the armchair he’d set squarely in front of his desk. She looked every inch the quintessential professional. Well, that would soon change.

  Deliberately refraining from speaking again, he watched as faint color drifted from under the collar of that neatly pressed white blouse to work its way upward to delicately paint her cheeks. He knew if he peeled back the collar he’d reveal a wildly beating pulse in the base of her throat, and he longed to set his lips right there. Taste her.

  “You’re applying for a position here.”

  With a tiny start, she nodded then visibly collected herself. “Yes, sir, I am.”

  “If you’re the successful applicant, you’ll have to start from the bottom and work your way to the top. My standards are very exacting.”

  “That would be fine.” She had a soothing voice. He supposed it’d be described as contralto, and he thought he could get used to hearing it each and every day for the rest of his life. Lord knew he’d denied himself while establishing their code of conduct. Just that one, impulsive night when he’d escorted her to her door, then stepped inside and—he dragged himself back to the present.

  “I’m both the owner and chief executive officer of Braxton Athletics, Ms. Webb. I expect utter loyalty—and obedience—from my employees.”

  The slight tension in her shoulders that greeted his edict didn’t go unnoticed. Jana was indeed strong willed, and as far as he could tell from an extensive background search, she was also extremely independent. One might think she’d be a fine mate for an alpha male such as himself but he knew differently. Only one of them could be the master in his world, or risk tearing one another apart. His determination faltered for a split second before he focused it.

  Jana was independent, not necessarily by choice, but because of dire necessity according to his sources, and her strong will was but a challenge. He had no desire to break that spirit, merely subjugate it at times, have her defer to him sexually and come to trust he always had her best interest at heart. Such deference would prove totally fulfilling for them both.

  “Do you have a problem with giving loyalty and obedience if it’s earned, Ms. Webb?”

  “No, sir.” The salutation was music to his ears. A woman like Jana didn’t confer such respect on a man unless she felt he’d earned it. All the time he’d spent learning about her, and in turn giving her insight into him, had created a foundation, a true connection he meant to build upon. It was significantly different from his approach with other women.

  “Excellent. Now we’ll determine if you speak the truth.” He relished the delicate swallow that greeted his words, the long line of her throat working gracefully above the high collar of her blouse. “Remove your clothing.”

  It took every ounce of control he possessed to maintain his careless slouch in his desk chair when she rose to her feet and shrugged her shoulders to loosen the blazer. It shifted to slide down the length of her arms. She caught the material with the fingertips of her left hand and laid it over one of the arms of her chair. The movement pulled the fabric of her blouse against the large mounds of her breasts and his eyes focused on the sweet profile. When she turned back to face him again, she caught him looking, and a hint of a smile tilted the corners of her full, plush mouth. That would never do.

  Casually, he reached to tug a drawer open and removed a wooden ruler, setting it down dead center on his desk. The little smirk vanished from Jana’s face as quickly as it appeared, and he fought back a satisfied smile of his own. He’d been very clear in their recent communications, and she hadn’t demurred, at least not without asking clarifying questions. He hoped he was correct in believing that she was at least intellectually prepared for the path they were embarking on.

  Beginning with the ones at her wrists, the tiny pearl buttons of the blouse slipped free of their moorings under Jana’s nimble fingers, and then the smooth skin between her collar bones came into view. The fluttering pulse in the hollow of her throat indeed called to his tongue and he set his teeth while schooling his features to reveal nothing but vague interest.

  As the fabric parted, widening to reveal a swatch of silk and lace and then her rounded belly, his cock strained against its cloth restraint
and the room took on a slightly out-of-focus appearance. His higher functioning suffered as all the blood rushed south.

  Taking hold of the collar points, his wicked minx drew the blouse down her upper arms. The material slipped past her cuffed wrists and drifted to the floor as she lowered her hands. Those full breasts he longed to see again without anything to veil them lifted and fell with her deepening intakes of air, and the shadowed nipples poked impudently. He’d buy her jewelry, gold and precious gems to decorate those tender nubs, have them pierced to attach a phalanx of fine chains. The time he’d waited for her, the patience he’d counseled, had led to this, just the two of them in a tableau of his making. Except he hadn’t anticipated this absolute perfection, enhanced by her disobedience.

  “Place the blouse with your jacket, and leave the bra.” His voice ground past his throat and Jana blinked, the spell interrupted.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I did not specify underwear, Ms. Webb.” The widening of her eyes fed his lust.

  Taking a marker from a collection grouped in a marble container on the corner of his desk, he rolled back in his chair and stood, making no effort to hide his straining erection. Her eyes dropped to his crotch before flying up to meet his own. Those green orbs widened further before she lowered her gaze, tipping her head downward as well. The hint of submission made him sweat.

  Crossing the room to a white board positioned to the right of the long table, he scrawled one word across the top. Infractions

  “Come here.”

  She obeyed instantly, and he resolutely kept his eyes on her face, striving to ignore the way her breasts moved behind the seductive fabric. Her gait was perhaps hindered by the tinge of anxiety evident on her features, a certain set of her mouth and across her high cheekbones. He intuited she wasn’t frightened, but rather, concerned she had displeased him. It was his job to ease that concern, and when she drew near, he handed her the marker.

  “Enter your transgressions.”

  “Sir? Transgressions?”

  “Jana.” He would brook no dissembling.

  A fine tremble of the marker was evident as she raised it and pressed the tip against the surface of the whiteboard, and then printed, as neat as any schoolgirl.

  1. presumption

  2. disobedience

  His heart surged in concert with his cock. His woman. He dropped into a chair as she set the little white tube in the tray of the board, folding his hands and resting his mouth against them.

  “Continue.” His fingers masked some of the rasp in his voice.

  Her hand went to the waistband of the dowdy skirt to slip the button free, and each detail was magnified despite his efforts to remain detached. One manicured fingernail slipped beneath the pull tab of the zipper to lift it away from the teeth. A tiny purring sound grated across his senses as she tugged it open in one glide, and the fabric parted to fall forward in a misshapen triangle. Instead of the silky skin one might have anticipated, considering his instructions, a piece of soft pink material that matched her bra came into view. Seth hid a grin and took care not to show any reaction other than a slight narrowing of his eyes to convey displeasure.

  Jana gave a little shimmy, and the skirt fell free to skim her full thighs and pool around her stilettos. Without a word or gesture from him, she stepped free of the muddle of cloth and made her way to the whiteboard. He feasted his eyes on the sway of her lush buttocks, flirtingly confined by a band of silk, interwoven with lace. He wanted to lick and suck the fine indentations at the base of her spine, right where that marvellous ass began, and definitely hadn’t missed the way the panties clung to her sex, delineating the crease between her labial folds. Taking advantage of having her back to him, he adjusted his anxious cock and gave it a surreptitious stroke.

  The marker squeaked against the whiteboard. 3. disobedience

  She returned to stand in front of him, and the perfume of female arousal wafted to inflame his need, very nearly past all sense of control.

  Fighting again for that rapidly diminishing commodity, wanting this to play out as he’d envisioned it, he nevertheless had to ask. “Explain yourself.”

  “Sir. When there were no undergarments with the suit, I assumed…I’m sorry, sir. I doubted your instructions.”

  “And the presumption?”

  “Instead of simply undressing, following your commands, I…I thought to…tantalize you.”

  “And who has the power in this room?”

  “You do, sir.” The green of her eyes was now only visible as a thin slice of color around the dilating pupils and he could feel the heat emanating from her. He stifled the urge to yank his suit off as his own body temperature blew off the charts.

  “Precisely. Take your skirt to the chair. Stand before the desk.”

  When she bent from the waist to snag her clothing, he knew he hadn’t contained his groan, and tempered his need with the piqued acknowledgement that those damn panties masked his view. Jana froze for an instant, and he just knew she was fighting another smile at his vocalization, and was aware what had caused it. Damn it.

  He stood and followed as she did as he bade her, and when she positioned her body directly in front of the massive piece of furniture, he allowed himself the luxury of standing close behind her. As he reached around to take up the ruler, her whole body shuddered and he deliberately set it down to her right with a snap. Setting a hand on the nape of her neck, he pressed her forward, and as she bent at the waist her buttocks rubbed over the front of his pants. No real pressure, but enough to drive his need higher, and he somehow managed not to grind against her like a callow youth seeking the gratification of frottage. Not that he wouldn’t do so on another occasion if Jana proved to meet his expectations, and he, hers.

  “Reach for the other side. Hold this position. You are to remain silent.” Her hands strained forward, her fingertips barely reaching the far edge.

  The desk was at an ideal height. He’d added the necessary half inch to each leg himself, that very morning, the round carpet savers stacking conveniently. His eye was as good as ever, noting Jana’s height, how short waisted she was, and with the stilettos her ass was lifted and presented in the perfect position. The edge of the desk was rounded so as not to put undue stress on her belly, and forced her pelvis to tilt so that she spread her legs to accommodate it. The restraints he’d installed reposed on either side of her shoes, a curl of leather and metal, and he sank to his knees to fit one, then the other, around her ankles. The chains were the perfect length to keep her in place, and also expose her sweet pussy—if she hadn’t chosen to wear that confection of silk.

  He’d actually had no definitive plan as to disciplining her in this fashion, but was always prepared, and allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at his forward thinking. Running his hands up her legs, enjoying the smooth curves of her calves and the long muscles of her thighs, he smiled at the way she writhed and pushed her bottom out. Soon, Jana.

  Striding around to the other side, pushing the chair out of the way, he opened the top drawer to free the chains reposing within, and snapped them onto the rings in her cuffs, drawing them tight and ensuring Jana was unable to move. The fact she’d held the instructed position indicated she was committed to this. But he’d make sure anyhow.

  He tenderly stroked her cheek, aware she was trying to see him from her awkward position. “If you wish at any time to withdraw from the interview, you have only to say so, Ms. Webb. Simply say I quit and I’ll consider it concluded. Otherwise, you will keep your opinions to yourself unless I ask a direct question. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How many smacks for your infractions, Ms. Webb?”

  “As many as you see fit, sir.”

  Perfect. He surveyed her with great satisfaction before lifting a pair of shears from the marble container, the cold metal making a grating sound that had his prospective employee tugging at her binds. The chains clinked and then she relaxed. He passed a hand over the love
ly length of her spine before slipping one side of the open blades along her hip to slide beneath her panties. The fabric crunched audibly before falling away, and he repeated the action at her other hip. Her flesh rose in goose bumps and he instantly soothed her with a gentle caress.

  “A waste of lovely underwear, Ms. Webb. As your prospective employer, perhaps I might reiterate the dress code.”

  “Yes, sir.” So obedient, so submissive. Well, he’d know for certain in the next short while. Tugging the ruined scrap of fabric free, he tossed it on top of her pile of discarded clothing. When he plucked the ruler from the wooden surface, her breath audibly huffed out.

  Smack. A muffled shriek rose to herald the line of pink blooming on her ass. “I determine your clothing choices.”

  ****

  Holy cow. Jana sucked in a huge draught of oxygen to mitigate the harsh sting on her left buttock, and her brain scrambled to make sense of the words accompanying it. Yowser. Her brother used that word when shocked, and it certainly fit her reaction. That freaking hurt!

  Smack. Right buttock. Double yowser. She barely heard him reiterate his earlier statement, because the stinging pain suddenly equalized and she became aware he was rubbing it away with one big, callused hand, smoothing the hurt across the entire swell of her ass. Warmth spread everywhere, clear through her belly and made a beeline for her clit.

  “Ms. Webb?”

 

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