A Total-E-Bound Publication
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Working for Him
ISBN # 978-1-78184-463-2
©Copyright Willa Edwards 2013
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright August 2013
Edited by Eleanor Boyall
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-burning and a sexometer of 2.
This story contains 43 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.
WORKING FOR HIM
Willa Edwards
To complete the merger of his career, can Richard convince his submissive Serena to be tied up in a whole different kind of knot?
Serena Carter looks forward to the Vertical Aeronautics company meeting every year. Not for the hour-long lectures on corporate policy or earning reports, but to meet with her Master, the billionaire CEO of the company, Richard Barrett. For the course of the week-long conference, they meet to explore their dark desires for submission and domination, only to part ways at the end of each meeting to their own separate lives. Except this year her Master has a surprise that will surpass anything they’ve explored before.
Richard loves his time mastering Serena. She’s the perfect sub, obedient without being cowardly, responsive, and just as interested in a little no-strings fun. But when the biggest deal of his career starts to go downhill due to his playboy ways, he gets the great idea to ask his little subbie to marry him, to give him a more conservative image and close the deal. But she stuns him when she rejects his request and flees, forcing him to reassess his plan.
Can Richard convince Serena that his proposal is more than just a business arrangement? Or will he lose his favourite submissive because of his own stubborn pride?
Dedication
For my mother, without whom this book would never have been written. Thank you for all you do for me. Your support means more to me than I can ever express.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Coke: The Coca-Cola Company
Montblanc: Montblanc International GmbH
Chapter One
“Merlot, please,” Serena ordered from the bartender, handing him the single paper ticket parcelled out so no one got drunk on the company dime. From the animated conversations around her, a few had already done so at their own expense at the hotel bar.
The Vertical Aeronautics annual all-people meeting had got off to the same start as last year, reminding Serena why she’d chosen to become an engineer. She’d much rather spend the day with gears and equations than people. Plus it was the closest she could get to flying, due to her horrible vision and flat feet.
Subtly, she looked down at her watch, trying to gauge how much longer she had to stand around the banquet hall and make nice with the other employees. The day had already been a long one, and the night continued to drone on. All she wanted to do was get out of this uncomfortable suit and too-tight shoes and relax for what remained of the evening.
“Ms Carter, how are you doing tonight?”
Serena turned and smiled at the man who’d slid up to the bar beside her, even though her cheeks were already tired from so many forced smiles today. “I’m doing well, Larry, how are you?”
He nodded. “Good, good.” He smiled at the bartender and ordered a whisky sour. “Though my department didn’t perform quite as well as yours did last year.”
Serena nodded. “Thank you. We were very lucky.”
Luck had nothing to do with it. It was damn hard work to keep her staff motivated, most of them still begrudging that she’d got the promotion to vice president over many of the more senior team members. But she’d learned long ago that modesty worked better at these work functions than the truth.
“I hope we’re so lucky next year.”
Serena smiled and took another sip of her drink. Sure he did. But that would require him to get off his ass and spend less time between his secretary’s legs. “I hope so, too.”
“How are you liking the conference this year?” Larry continued talking, and Serena fought back a groan at being forced to continue with such pleasantries. How does he not get the hint? “The food’s not as good as last year, but I’m enjoying the location. Vegas is a fun time.”
She smiled, wondering exactly what kind of good time he was having in Vegas. “It’s nice to travel somewhere warmer this time of year, but Vegas isn’t my kind of town. Too much activity, too many lights.” Too many co-workers.
“You just haven’t seen the city yet. Let me show you around, give you a tour of the casinos.” Larry moved a fraction closer to her along the bar, and against her will the corners of her mouth drooped into a frown. “Play a few games of craps, and you’ll be singing a different tune in no time.”
“I’m not much of a gambler.” Serena tried her best to ease back without showing it. Maybe the stink of liquor on his breath will help with his perceptions.
“We’ll play slots then. That’s not really gambling.” As he spoke, Larry’s eyes drifted down to her chest. He was far from the first to sneak such a peek today. Even beneath her conservative blouse and knee-length skirt, she still received quite a bit of attention from her male colleagues. Maybe because they came into contact with so few other women in the rest of their lives.
“Good to see someone’s enjoying the bar.”
Serena looked over to her side, where the dark husky voice had emanated from. Richard Barrett stood beside her with his own pleasant forced smile. He looked every bit the powerful playboy billionaire in his perfectly tailored black suit. He’d left the top two buttons of his shirt undone, allowing his collar to gape a bit and display a hard chest and thick dark hair. Serena’s mouth watered at the small peek.
The kid behind the bar didn’t need to know he was the CEO to realise this man was powerful—everything about him portrayed it. His hard, muscular body, his stance, the look in his eye. The bartender didn’t even ask him for one of the stupid drink tickets, he just filled the glass quickly and handed it over.
“Mr Barrett.” Larry immediately snapped to attention, standing a bit straighter and shifting his eyes away from her breasts.
“Mr Thompson.” He nodded to the man. “Ms Carter.” He nodded towards her, a slight curve in his lips as he said her name. He stared back at them with those piercing dark eyes that could make even the most seasoned businessman sign over his company, home and wife if Richard Barrett asked for it.
“Are you enjoying the meeting?”
“Very much, sir,” she responded, a little too quickl
y.
“Yes, the location is great,” Larry continued, filling in the awkward gap. “I was just telling Ms Carter, since we’re in Vegas, she should at least play a few slots and have a little bit of fun.”
Mr Barrett shifted his gaze to her, and her heart picked up speed. There was something about this man, something about the power and the determination in his eyes, that always called to a very deep part of her, a part she kept hidden from the rest of the world. The submissive part of her.
Pinned beneath his laser stare, unable to hide any of herself from him, Serena shifted uncomfortably. Her stomach fluttered and she pressed her thighs together in the hopes of keeping the throb between her legs at bay. The hum had her panties wet and the impulse to press her face into his chest and breathe in his musky male smell sounding like a great idea, even in front of the entire company.
“What do you think, Ms Carter? Are you inclined to play the slots?”
She looked up at him, blinking through her lashes. “No, Mr Barrett. That’s not the kind of play I enjoy.”
His eyes darkened a bit at the breathy quality of her voice, exactly the reaction she’d been aiming for. His hand slid along the bar next to her, his fingers bumped against hers. Just the briefest touch, but it still set her heart bounding. She knew all too well what amazing things he could do with those big hands. How rough and how gentle he could be, all at the same time.
His fingers moved back, leaving behind a plastic key card. His room key. She reached out, quickly enveloping the flat plastic beneath her shaky fingers before Larry or the bartender could notice the discarded key. Her entire body heated with the touch of the card. It had been another long year, a year of waiting, of dreaming, and now he was here. She’d once again be in his bed, beneath those firm hands.
She cast her eyes up to meet his. His dark gaze focused on her, pinning her beneath his stare. She gripped the bar for support. Her ears buzzed and her stomach knotted. She could drown in those eyes, be taken over, conquered by him, and never complain for a second.
The corner of his mouth turned up, a motion so small anyone not focused on him would never have seen it. He knew what hold he had over her. And he liked it.
“I hope you do have some fun tonight, Ms Carter.” He smiled and her knees decided to rebel, no longer holding her solidly upright as they should. She gripped the countertop hard enough that her knuckles screamed. It was that, or fall to the floor at his feet. “Life can’t be all about work.”
She nodded, his husky words stealing her ability to think, let alone speak.
He picked up his drink, looking past her and breaking the spell between them. “Good luck, Mr Thompson. I hope you have a great night.”
Beside her, Larry nodded. “You too, sir.” He grabbed his own drink and walked away from the bar, determining her not amenable enough to continue his pursuit. She had no complaints.
Once Larry had moved far enough away, Mr Barrett slid along the bar to stand right next to her, his body turned towards the rest of the crowd.
“Have a good night, Serena,” he whispered, so close his breath wafted along her exposed neck. So low no one else could hear his seductive tone. His husky words slid down her spine and shivered across her skin.
“Yes, sir,” she returned, as he walked towards the gathering of senior-level managers across the room.
She held the key card tight enough that the sharp corners bit into her palm. The slight pain only heightened the flare across her nerves. She intended to have a very good night.
Chapter Two
Her entire body shook as she stepped towards the door, unable to see past the ‘Presidential Suite’ etched across the wood. Serena had been waiting for this night for one very long year, counting down the days until she could exercise this part of herself once again. The sub. The pet. And now it was finally here. Her fingers fumbled, the plastic key card rattling as she slipped it into the electronic mechanism. An electric shock of need shot through her at the click of the door opening.
This was why she looked forward to the company meeting every year. Not for networking or awards, not to meet her co-workers or mentor new employees. She was only here for him.
Her skin tingled with sensitivity and her breathing picked up in speed as she stepped into the dimly lit room. Energy prickled around her. He was here. Hiding in the darkness, waiting for her. She could feel it in every breath she took, in each foot she moved further into the room.
Her nipples beaded beneath her silk blouse. The anticipation fluttered deep in her stomach. She walked to the lone lit lamp across the room.
All at once his heat enveloped her, his masculine smell surrounded her, sending a bolt of lust straight to her cunt. “I’ve been waiting, pet.” His husky breath pelted against her nape. Then the world went black.
She lifted her fingers to her face, sliding along the smooth silk covering her eyes and blocking out the rest of the world. It always amazed her how the simple scrap of fabric could send her entire body flaming. Sometimes, when she was alone, she’d wrap a silk scarf around her eyes and touch herself, pretending it was his hands on her, his touch commanding her response.
“Do you remember your safe word, pet?” He wrapped his hand around her nape, strong and warm. Her entire body sank into his touch.
“Yes, sir.”
“Say it for me.” His breath whispered against her neck. His strong presence and heat pressed against her back.
“Bingo.”
Her whole body shook at the whispered word, a hot shiver skating down her spine as it always did when he made her recite her safe word before each play session, to be sure she knew it and could say it. Though she’d never needed to. He always kept her safe, hovering on the edge of her boundaries, but never beyond them.
“Good, pet.”
Grabbing both her wrists, he pulled them behind her back to meet at the base of her spine. With quick, dexterous movements that still managed to surprise her after years of enjoyment, he slid a rope around both her wrists and knotted them together. She squirmed a bit in the hold, testing to see how tight he’d knotted her in place. She knew her Master well, and his skill with knots was formidable, yet she always tried to slip free. She needed to know she couldn’t.
“Tight enough, pet?” He laughed in her ear. She nodded. Her shoulders had already started to pain her from the strained angle. Her muscles would be screaming by morning. Her heart pounded a little harder in anticipation, impatient for the lasting pain of her Master’s hold, the invisible grip following her throughout her day. “Good.”
He wrapped his hands around her face, holding her tightly enough that she could feel the power in his hands but not enough that he’d leave marks. Not on her face at least. He pulled her closer, tangling his fingers in her hair, and yanked her lips to his.
His kiss was hard, demanding. Her entire body sagged, allowing him admission, her heartbeat soaring at the possession in his touch. His tongue slid into her mouth, exploring her lips, her teeth, her cheeks, with a relish and mastery that declared in no uncertain terms that all he touched was his. And she gladly accepted. She was his. Every part of her. His to take and do with as he pleased.
Her lungs screamed for oxygen, but the taste of her Master far outweighed such need. She only had a week. A week to enjoy every pleasure he had to offer before she returned to her life of spreadsheets and drafting programs. And she wasn’t about to relinquish a second of his lips on hers or his taste along her tongue. Not even for air.
When he pulled away, she was gasping, and from the rough breeze of his breath against her cheek, he was too. “I missed you, pet,” he whispered, so soft and low she almost couldn’t be sure he’d said it. The statement alone was so unlike her Master.
He pulled tight on her hair, snapping her head back and forcing her to attention. Even as tears pricked her eyes, a hot need coiled tight in her stomach. In one smooth motion he was back to the man she knew, the loving Master who controlled her entire being with ease.
He prowled around her, like a cat approaching its kill, coming to stand at her back. She clenched her thighs together, attempting to stem the ache throbbing between them. It wouldn’t work—it never did—but she couldn’t stop her body from searching for even a small reprieve from the overwhelming desire inside her.
“I see you remembered how I love silk.” He leaned on her shoulders, sliding down her chest and over the soft silk blouse she’d worn. His large palms kneaded her breasts, strong and commanding, demanding her response. Biting her lip to keep back a moan, she leaned into his touch. The friction of her thin lace bra beneath her shirt against her engorged nipples weakened her knees.
A whimper escaped her throat as his hand continued down her stomach, leaving her nipples throbbing and desperate. Damn it! She needed more. His palm skimmed her skirt, moving further away from where she desperately needed his hands and setting her heart racing.
He leaned closer, slipping his hand beneath her skirt. His hot fingers slid along the top of her stockings. “And lace.” A shiver skated down her spine at his soft touch, and wetness dripped between her legs.
His fingers stroked her inner thigh, slipping up her legs. His touch explored and commanded at the same time, and her entire body quivered.
“But you must have forgotten how I like you bare.” He pulled at the thong between her legs. The fabric stretched, putting excruciatingly amazing pressure upon her clit. The sensation shot out from her pussy to the rest of her body.
“I don’t like barriers.” He smacked her ass hard, and she jumped. The slap of his hand reverberated through the room, giving evidence to the strength of his spank. Not that she minded. She loved the heat, the vibrations along her nerves, the shape of his hand on her body long after their play. She hated to watch the marks, his marks, fade from her body once their week was over. How she wished they could be permanent, imprinted on her skin, to remain forever.
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