by Amy Valenti
HOT, RICH AND DOMINANT 4: MAKING A SCENE
Amy Valenti
Copyright 2013 Amy Valenti
Smashwords Edition
License Notes
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* * * *
Figuring him out…
Returning to work after her erotic fairytale weekend of opulence and submission seems frustratingly mundane to Nell West, but she’s hopeful about her newfound submissive relationship with the CEO’s gorgeous son, Marc Cassidy. It seems that Marc can’t get enough of her, either, but after a private moment in his office is interrupted by his hot-tempered father, she hardly sees him for a week. When he discusses his father with her, Marc—usually so Dominant—almost seems afraid. What’s going on behind the scenes in the Cassidy family?
Pushing her boundaries…
After their long week of separation, Marc tells Nell that he wants to try a more intense scene with her. Despite her insecurities about the mysterious blonde woman who keeps showing up around him, Nell agrees to the strict guidelines her Dom sets for the evening. But can she endure all he’s asking of her, physically and mentally, when she has so many unanswered questions?
HOT, RICH AND DOMINANT 4: MAKING A SCENE
Amy Valenti
Chapter One
Dear Diary,
It’s Monday, and I’ve never been so bored in my life. After my weekend with Marc, getting back to my apartment and resuming my normal routine was weird. How do you go from wearing—then being stripped out of—a six-thousand-dollar, one-of-a-kind dress to doing the dishes in your tiny apartment, alone, without feeling a little down about it?
I’m managing to hold my own at work today, but part of me can’t keep my mind out of Marc’s office. I don’t know if he’s up there or doing something at one of the other company sites in town, but I just want to see him, to convince myself that the past three days weren’t some kind of fever dream or something…
Maybe he’s with the blonde woman he was talking to on Saturday night. Oh, god. Don’t even go there, Eleanor.
Now I’m even talking to myself in Marc’s voice. I’ve got it bad…
****
“Hey, Stella. Do you mind if I grab Nell for a few minutes? I’ll have her back to you within the hour.”
My heart pounded, but I made sure to do nothing more than glance up casually at the sound of my new Dom’s voice.
“Sure,” Stella, my supervisor, agreed easily. “Nell, will you still be good with finishing up that proposal by the end of the day?”
I threw a quick look at the clock and bit my lip. “I’ll do my best. I can work some overtime if I need to.”
Satisfied, Stella returned to her work, and I headed over to Marc’s side as he stood in the doorway. “What do you need, Sir?”
His lips twitched, and he stepped back enough that I could pass through the door. “Just a few things that can’t really wait. I’m sorry to pull you out of your usual role like this.”
I shrugged oh-so-nonchalantly. “Anytime.” No, really…anytime.
The door to the open-plan office swung closed behind us, putting Stella out of earshot, but we stood in the hallway in silence, not looking at each other, watching the numbers on the elevator panel as it headed to our floor. I fidgeted, trying to convince myself that I was expecting more than I’d get from Marc this afternoon. Just because he and I had something going on outside the office, that didn’t mean he’d disrupt both of our schedules for a quickie…did it?
The elevator doors opened, revealing an empty interior, and Marc let me step inside first before following. He hit the button for the floor on which his office was located, and the doors slid smoothly shut.
The next thing I knew, he was pressing me back against the elevator wall with his entire body, tilting my head back to give me a hot, intense kiss. I sighed happily against his lips and surrendered, wrapping both arms around his neck and savouring the taste of his talented tongue.
Marc broke off to rest his forehead against mine, and I gazed up into his dark eyes with a mental swoon.
“I’ve been dying to do that all day, my sub.”
I couldn’t help it. I grabbed his head and kissed him this time, and he gave a low, approving growl as he dug his fingers into my hips and kissed back. Only the soft ding of the elevator as it reached its destination was enough to tear us apart.
In the reception area outside Marc’s office, I glanced around for the assistant I’d yet to actually lay eyes on. “Is your PA still on her honeymoon?”
“Apparently they decided to extend it a week, but personally, I think she’s gearing up to quit.” With a gentle, yet firm grasp on the back of my neck, he guided me past the empty desk and into his office. “Which I can’t bring myself to care about, because her absence means I can do whatever I like to you in here, and she won’t hear any of it. Kneel.”
I blinked at the sudden command, but automatically dropped to my knees in front of the leather couch in the corner, where he’d had me kneel on Friday, that first time he’d ordered it.
“You’re a fast learner, Eleanor. I like that. Are you comfortable?” He sat down on the couch and ran his hand through my hair.
I nodded, leaning my head against his knee and letting myself drop into the state of perfect compliance kneeling for him could send me into. “Yes, Sir,” I murmured.
He reached behind one of the cushions on the opposite side of the couch, and I smiled at the sight of the play collar I’d been getting used to wearing for scenes. A pair of wrist cuffs dangled from his finger, connected by a short, detachable chain, and as I watched he unclipped them from each other.
“Hold out your hand.”
By the time Marc had finished fastening the collar and cuffs around my throat and wrists, I was a divine mix of anticipation and utter calm.
“You look so good on your knees,” he said, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging my head back, using just enough force to make me gasp.
He kissed me again—slowly, hungrily—then sat back just as I was about to try sliding my hand into his lap. I bit back a whimper of disappointment, eyeing the prominent ridge in his pants, and he chuckled, watching me squirm and clearly enjoying it.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
That took my attention off my damp panties and the pounding of my pulse for a moment. I watched Marc, curious to know exactly what he was thinking.
“Remember me telling you about the play parties I used to throw?” He tugged on the ring of my collar, guiding my head to rest against his knee again, and began to stroke my hair.
I closed my eyes and immediately began to drift. It had only taken his fastening my collar around my neck to put me in the right mindset—kneeling at his feet with his fingers combing through my hair, I was lost, ready to do anything for him. “Yes, Sir.”
Before either of us could say anything else, the phone on Marc’s desk rang. I jumped as if I’d been stung, remembering we were still in his office, no matter how secluded it was from passersby. Marc took a moment to kiss the top of my head in reassurance, then stood up and made his way over to the desk, sighing.
“Cassidy,” he said into the phone.
From my spot on the floor, I watched him focus, his demeanour turning from Dom—relaxed, but with a predatory edge—
to professional in a matter of an instant. He wasn’t quite as sexy this way, but as he grabbed a pen and scribbled a few things down in a notepad on the desk, the lock of hair that always seemed to fall into his eyes did exactly that, and I couldn’t help but smile. Whenever that happened, I ached to push it back from his face and kiss him all over.
Probably not appropriate submissive behaviour, I reminded myself, looking down at my lap before he could catch me staring at his fine ass or gazing at him like a lovestruck teenager.
As the call went on, though, I couldn’t resist just one more look. Raising my eyes, I found his appreciative gaze was on me, even though he was still talking to whoever was on the other end of the line. A heated flush crept up my neck and over my face, and I squirmed a little before I realised it, seeking to ease the tingle of desire between my legs but only succeeding in increasing it. Oh, that’s good…
Unable to resist, I did it again.
Marc raised an eyebrow as if to insinuate that he knew exactly what I was up to. I held myself still with an effort, but by the time he’d finished his call my pulse was racing again. He set the phone down in its cradle and made a couple more notes in silence, without looking at me. I had a feeling he was focusing on me with every other sense, though—just drawing out the moment because he could. Proving he was in control, not that I needed the reminder.
The pen clattered to the desk, and I closed my eyes and straightened my posture as his measured tread across the carpet drew closer.
“Don’t think I didn’t see that, Eleanor. You were wriggling, weren’t you?” His voice was low and amused.
“Yes, Sir. Sorry.”
“When you’re wearing that collar, I dictate what stimulation that pussy of yours gets—do you understand me?” There was a very slight edge to his voice that made me yearn to obey.
I stuck with a safe answer. “I understand, Sir.”
He ran his finger over the play collar at my throat, reminding me of its delicious presence. “Do you know how difficult it was to concentrate on that phone call with you kneeling there, trying to pleasure yourself without me noticing?”
I bit my lip, not sure how to answer.
“Are you wet, Eleanor?”
I whispered an affirmative, knowing I was blushing.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
The teasing tone to his voice made me melt. “I want you inside me, Sir.”
Marc cupped my breast through my bra and pinched the nipple softly, then hard enough to make me cry out. I didn’t realise I’d wriggled again until he yanked me to my feet by the hair. Gasping at the twin pains—in my scalp and my breast—that pulsed in sync with the needy throb of my clit, I let him steer me over to the corner of the room.
“Face the wall.”
I did, trembling a little. What was he about to do?
Marc reached up under my skirt, but instead of the intimate touch I’d been expecting, he yanked down my panties instead. “Stand with your legs apart and your hands behind your neck.”
I got into position, stepping out of my thong in the process, and sighed softly at the sensation of air hitting my aroused pussy. This was all still so new to me, but I loved it.
“Wider.” Marc kicked at one of my shoes, forcing me to widen my stance until my thigh muscles began to burn. In this position, there was no way I could generate enough friction to pleasure myself.
Damn him!
“Now stay there.”
I lowered my head in acquiescence, unsure if I was allowed to speak. Probably not—better to err on the side of caution.
Behind me, I could hear Marc returning to his desk, and the fact that I was being disciplined began to set in. I could be back at my desk getting some work done right now. If I’m going to spend time in Marc’s office, shouldn’t it be doing something fun? This isn’t fair!
“I know you’re cursing me in your mind right now,” he said from across the room.
I gritted my teeth and kept silent to avoid incriminating myself.
“We’ve talked about punishments before, but this is the first time I’ve had to give you a real one. And this is only a light one, because I know you didn’t do it deliberately.”
My legs were really starting to ache, and I fought the urge to bring my legs closer together. Instead, I clenched my hands into fists and tried to concentrate on Marc’s voice instead.
He began to walk back towards me, his voice approaching slowly. “You’re mine, Eleanor, and that means you abide by my rules when you’re wearing my collar. Obey me, and I’ll reward you. Disobey, and you’ll be punished.”
Not for the first time, I despaired that the submissive side of me seemed to think this was entirely reasonable. Where did my assertive side go at times like this? I wanted to yell at him that I belonged to myself, that he couldn’t control me…yet here I was following his orders, with my panties on the floor at my feet and my hot, wet pussy begging for friction.
“There’s no shame in it,” Marc murmured in my ear, pressing up against my back. I tried not to sway backwards against him, but it was just too tempting. I’d missed him so much last night…
“Your submission is the most beautiful gift you could ever give me, Eleanor. I love the way my collar looks around your neck, and I love that even though you’re pissed off right now, you’re turned on by my dominance.”
“Am not,” I whispered, finding my voice at last.
“Little liar.”
Marc slipped his fingers up under my skirt—hadn’t I worn it in the hope that he’d have the opportunity to do exactly that? He brushed over my outer labia with a feather-light touch, pressing harder against my back so I could feel his erection. I whimpered as he skimmed up and down my slit, avoiding my swollen nub for now, yet still turning my knees weak.
“Sir…”
“In a few minutes, I’m going to bend you over my desk and take you from behind, beautiful. Think about that.” After one brief, delicious press down on my clit, Marc stepped away from me entirely, leaving me unsteady and gasping, my pussy throbbing for his touch.
Left alone in the corner, I struggled to stay in position, all traces of rebelliousness gone. Now I knew what was in store for me, and that Marc was just as turned on as I was, I was determined to bear the punishment he’d set.
Minutes seemed to tick past like hours, and I bit back a groan as the pressure in my spread thighs became almost unbearable. Just as I was about to beg Marc to relent, a sound registered on the edge of my consciousness—and not a good one.
“Was that…?”
Marc’s low, emphatic curse confirmed my suspicion. The elevator bell.
I swivelled the top half of my body to meet his horrified stare, and he crossed the room to me quickly, helping me regain my balance and stand normally. After checking I was steady, Marc scooped my panties off the floor and shoved them in his pocket, then pulled me closer to his desk as footsteps rapidly approached.
The door burst open, and I almost cried out with alarm as it hit the wall and rebounded. The man who stalked into the room was someone I’d only seen in pictures on the company website, never in person—Marc’s father, Elliot Cassidy. CEO of the Cassidy Corporation.
And here I was standing in his son’s office, wearing no panties and… Shit! As Cassidy Senior stalked up to his son’s desk, I pulled my sleeves farther down over the wrist cuffs I was wearing, hoping he wouldn’t look too closely and notice the collar around my neck. It definitely wasn’t dress-code appropriate for an innocent, professional Monday afternoon meeting with the vice-CEO.
“Marcus, what the hell is this I’m hearing from Bill about the testing facility in New York?”
Marc pulled his chair in closer to his desk—I assumed to hide the obvious bulge in his pants from his father. “Dad, I’m in the middle of a meeting—”
With a brief glare in my direction that didn’t actually involve focusing on me, Mr. Cassidy ordered, “Reschedule it.” As if to himself, he continued, “M
y only child, and he has no concept of priorities. Where did I go so wrong?”
I’d never seen Marc look so angry. His jaw set, he turned to me and spoke with forced calm. “Nell, I’m sorry—we’re going to have to do this a little later on in the week. If you’d like to head back down to your desk now, I’ll be in touch this afternoon to rearrange.”
Still reeling from the interruption to my punishment, I nodded and tried to summon a rational response. “No problem, Sir. Thanks for your time.”
Before Mr. Cassidy could decide to examine me more closely, I beat a hasty retreat from Marc’s office, closing the door quietly behind me. I hadn’t taken another step before I heard the CEO begin yelling again, though the barrier between us muffled his words so I couldn’t get a sense of what was being said. Marc’s voice was more controlled, but he was clearly annoyed.
I decided to get out of there before Mr. Cassidy could steamroll over me on his way out, and walked quickly towards the elevator. The incident had killed my arousal, but I was still very aware of my pantyless condition.
Safely in the elevator and descending to my usual floor, I quickly unbuckled the collar and wrist cuffs, then concealed them beneath my shirt. Restored to my vanilla state, I ran a shaky hand through my hair and tried to slow my pounding heart by taking some deep breaths.
That was a close one.
Chapter Two
When I left the building at the end of the day, I was calmer, but my concentration had been shot to hell by my lack of underwear. It had felt as though I’d had a neon sign over my head announcing that fact, even though I’d known I was overreacting. I’d managed to get the work Stella had wanted finished, but I didn’t hold out hope that the quality was any good.
The wrist cuffs and collar were tucked into my shoulder bag, but I was still self-conscious about my naked pussy beneath my skirt as I walked out onto the street. Get home and get changed. Everything else can wait—