“Oh, God,” I moan as his hand massages my pussy, rolling his fingers between my lips, soaking the fabric of my panties. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Lift up,” he hisses, and when I do, he slides my panties down my thighs, tucking them into his desk drawer with an evil grin. I wonder what he’s going to do with them later, but the thought flies out of my head when he starts tweaking my clit. “I’m teaching you, Babydoll. I’m showing you that patience is essential, along with control and the ability to hold steady, even when your body screams for something else. Like last night. Do you think I went home and jacked off as I thought about how you will look with that ‘O’ on your face as my cock slides inside you?”
I moan, his powerful fingers doing amazing things to me as he talks dirty to me. “Oh, fuck. Did you?”
His massage of my core is so good that I’m almost ready to come, but he pulls back, chuckling. “No,” he whispers. “I didn’t. Just like you aren’t . . . until I’m ready to let you.”
His words hit me hard, and I whimper, looking at him. “Please,” I moan, my body quivering. “I need—”
“Please, what?” Liam asks, lifting an eyebrow, his fingers still touching me but not moving at all.
“Please, sir, let me come.”
He starts again, bringing me to the brink with his fingers on my clit and teasing along my entrance. I desperately need more, his finger inside me or for him to stay focused on my clit, but he stops again. It’s like he said, sweet torture as my pussy feels swollen, puffy, and aching, my fingers gripping the edge of his desk so hard I’ve got cramps threatening in my forearms. But I can only think of one thing.
“Please,” I beg again.
He bends closer, eyes locked onto my pussy, and though I know I should tell him to stop, I can’t. He’s increasing the price, but when his tongue swipes across my aching clit, it’s an expense I’ll gladly pay. “Oh, God,” I cry out, trying so hard to be quiet.
The feel of his tongue on my pussy is more than I could have ever imagined. Hot, wet, and a completely different sensation from his fingers. And when he moans against my sensitive skin, the vibration nearly sends me over.
“Fuck, doll. You taste like candy, so sweet I want to drink you down.” I think that’s exactly what he’s doing as he covers my pussy with his mouth, sucking my sensitive skin and flicking his tongue across my engorged clit.
I can feel my body building up to something massive, something I’ve never experienced before. If this is edging, I want to do it all the time. I suspect it has more to do with the man between my thighs than some trick of orgasm denial though.
He pulls me tighter against his face, my pussy chasing his tongue unashamedly. “You want to come?” he says. I nod, whimpering. “What are you willing to give for it?” he asks, stroking a finger once over my lips. I cry out. I’m closer than ever, but he knows just what he’s doing.
My mouth drops open, then I shut it with a snap as I glare at him, the denial starting to fray the edges of my patience. There’s no way I’m going to give up this easily, this quickly, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t tempt me. I open my mouth again, looking down at him. “Loyalty.”
“I don’t want your loyalty.” He snickers. “I’ll earn that in time. No . . . I want your obedience.”
I gulp, knowing I’m handing him some of the power that he promised me yesterday . . . but not too much. “But what do you want me to do?”
Liam grins. “Stay still and let me fuck you with my tongue. Don’t make a sound.”
I nod, gritting my teeth as he massages me, spreading my lips wide open to his gaze. It’s so hard not to cry out, my chest aching and my fingers knotting as I grip the desk tightly. He slips the tip of his tongue into my pussy, just barely penetrating me, but it’s so much better. It’s a hint of what I really want, what I need, but he’s still teasing me, barely thrusting inside as he lazily rubs his thumb across my clit.
I can feel the fire building in my stomach, and I’m about to explode when there’s a knock at the door. “Mr. Blackstone? There’s something that needs your attention.”
“Fuck,” Liam hisses, his mouth and fingers deserting me.
He pushes his chair back and adjusts his pants, pulling me from the desk and handing me the folder he’d set aside. “Sit in the chair, doll.”
“What?” I ask, shocked. “Are you—”
My body obeys while my mind catches up, and as I walk from between his legs, he swats my ass with a soft smack. I look back sharply, and he grins, making sure I see him wiping my juices from his mouth and sucking his fingers clean.
I’ve barely set my ass in his chair when he yells out, “Come in.”
Chapter 6
Liam
I’m hard as a rock and glad my desk covers me as Jacob and Melvin Jackson walk in the door. Jacob leads the way, looking around like he’s probably guessed what was going on with Arianna, but he doesn’t know for sure, and I’m going to keep it that way as long as I can to save myself from the lecture. Melvin is a lanky, odd-looking fellow who could double as Norman Bates with glasses, and he always comes off as nervous for some reason. He was already working at Morgan when I took over and has been helpful during the transition to my leadership. Not sure exactly how he got that gig because technically, he doesn’t even work on this floor, but he showed up one day with some interesting figures and some intel to share, so he’s been useful, at least.
“Yes?” I ask, tilting my head. “You did say it was important?”
Melvin looks to Jacob, who nods. Jacob intends the nod to give Melvin permission to speak, but Melvin reads it incorrectly and takes it as the go-ahead to sit in my guest chair. The one right next to Arianna.
He looks over at her, and I notice his eyes stay strictly on her face, not scanning her lush curves. He might’ve just gone up a small notch in my estimation because if he’d looked at her body, I would’ve been tempted to teach him a lesson about looking at what’s mine.
Wait . . . what? She’s not mine, and I’m not some Neanderthal. But the urge to mark her, claim her, sits in my gut like a stone. It might not be politically correct, and I suspect she’d kick me in the balls if I verbalized my thoughts aloud, but it’s the possessive impulse I feel. I wonder if Jacob and Melvin can smell the sweetness of her sex in the air of my office or if they realize why Arianna’s cheeks are flushed? I waver between pride, knowing that she’s only that undone because of me, and fury, greedy that only I see her that way.
Melvin reaches out a hand to Arianna, “Melvin Jackson, Vice President of Business Analytics.” She takes his hand for a quick shake, introducing herself too.
And then Melvin turns his attention to me. Finally. “Sir, I just wanted to say that I think you’ve done a great job since taking over as CEO this summer. The figures show a significant uptick in public perception and stock indexes are expected to reflect that.”
“Appreciated, but if that’s all, Melvin, I’m really—”
“But there are whispers,” Melvin says quickly. He glances back at Arianna, obviously uncertain whether he should say what he wants to in front of her.
I glance to Jacob, who nods. Apparently, I need to hear whatever Melvin is dishing. “It’s okay, Melvin. You can speak freely in front of Arianna.” My words elicit similar reactions in them both, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. Arianna quickly schools her features, though I can read her delight at getting some insight on the inner workings of Morgan. Melvin still looks unsure, but he continues.
“Sir, when you took over, you brought with you a . . . well, some people are calling it a ‘rockstar’ attitude. You have to understand, Morgan has always had a more traditional corporate culture. We’ve succeeded for years on a solid business model of predicting the market and being there before the competitors. But the changes you are implementing? There is concern that perhaps you’re more flash than substance. That perhaps you simply don’t understand what has made Morgan the company it is today, what we sta
nd for, or who we are.”
“They brought me in to shake things up, and my track record speaks for itself,” I reply. “Melvin, this company lost millions last year and needs a fast turnaround to stay at the forefront of the market you’re trying to predict. I don’t want Morgan to follow along like sheep, chasing dollars and market shares. I want to create the market trends, have the other companies scrambling to catch up with us. Just give it some time and you’ll see. My way works.”
He nods but is still unsatisfied. “But sir, I think you’ll see in our third-quarter reports that sales are at respectable levels, and moving into the fourth quarter, I predict we’ll see similar numbers, maybe even an increase of one to two percent, which could be extremely beneficial for Morgan’s bottom line.”
I sigh. “Third-quarter reports? I was just going over the Eastern Region report this morning,” I say, giving Arianna a quick glance. “While the numbers look good, if you compare them with the second quarter, you can see that they’re trending down.” Arianna uncrosses and recrosses her legs, drawing my attention. I offer her a smile, acknowledging that I’m repeating her synopsis from this morning. But I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew. I’d just wondered if she’d take initiative and what her summary of the report would show . . . a regurgitation of the numbers or a more thoughtful analysis? Luckily, my smart girl knows her stuff and dug deeper.
“And beyond the quarter to quarter changes, look back to last year’s third quarter. We’re down almost nine percent since then. Unacceptable, especially considering we had a product availability increase in the area. Status-quo thinking doesn’t get status-quo results. If we stay stagnant and don’t change our MO, Morgan will fail, and I refuse to let that happen. So, innovative thinking and new possibilities are the direction we’re heading.”
Melvin bows his head for a moment, frustration written in the lift of his shoulders, which are nearing his ears. He sighs. “Very well, sir. If you’re certain that is the best path, perhaps you should amp up the ‘rockstar’ a bit for the board then. Really sell them on your plan, explain your business model of change, and that they should believe in your ideas. Get them on board in a big way so that we can be a team again.”
It’s not a bad idea. But I’m not used to explaining myself. I usually do my analysis with Jacob and we get to work, creating success where none existed before. But he might have a point in this particular case since the board and many of the executives are rather old-school, Melvin included. They’d definitely prefer more intel. I’m just not certain whether I want to give it to them. “I’ll take that under advisement, Melvin. If there’s nothing else?” It’s an obvious dismissal, and he gets up, nodding at me, then Arianna. He basically ignores Jacob as he walks to the door and strides out.
Jacob looks at me, nonplussed. “You could’ve handled that better.” He plops down into the chair Melvin just vacated. He doesn’t need an invite or permission since he’s my best friend and my right-hand guy at the office.
I shake my head. “It’s the truth. Do you believe that guy?”
“You didn’t really give him a chance to speak. Some of the stuff he told me . . .” Jacob says after a moment. “I don’t know. Like, some of the executives are uncomfortable with your new direction and chatting among themselves. I think one comment he says he heard was ‘this isn’t the eighties, and he isn’t Gordon fucking Gekko. He said he might’ve even overheard the word ‘takeover’ from one, but he wasn’t sure who it was. Hallway chatter, apparently.”
“No one has given me that impression. I’ve gotten nothing but praise from the board,” I muse. “And they asked me here, knowing Morgan needed some drastic action to stay solvent.” It’s times like this that I appreciate Jacob. He’s my sounding board and trusted advisor. “What do you think? Should I be worried?”
Jacob scratches at the stubble on his jaw. “I don’t know. I haven't heard anything that’s bad, but Melvin is part of a certain inner circle. They might be whispering behind closed doors. I could see the comment being made by some people.”
“Fuck them. They’re comparing me to a fictional asshole,” I growl, hating the comparison. “Why bring me in to begin with if they want me to conform to the same old thinking? All the hoopla that surrounds me is just the window dressing. It’s called creating buzz. We’ve done this before, us against the old regime. We’re good and what we do works.”
Jacob shrugs, unconcerned. “You’re good, Liam. But you have rocked some boats.” He glances at Arianna and then back to me. I eye him, letting him know in our nonverbal shorthand to watch his step because I can see where this is going.
“Pulling up Arianna to be your secretary probably didn’t help matters. It’s raised some eyebrows. And I’m not going to ask what you two have been doing for the past thirty minutes.”
Arianna shrinks in her chair, her cheeks blushing furiously. If there was any doubt, she might as well have shouted from the rooftop what we’ve been up to. Jacob is broaching on some treacherous waters, and I warn him off so he doesn’t piss me off too badly. I snap, “Jacob, watch it.”
“Look, whatever you two do outside the office is none of my business. On your own time, that’s all well and good. But here? We need to stay on task. We’re mid-transition and implementing big changes that make folks uncomfortable. Adding in some crazy ‘rockstar’ shit like fucking an intern in your office” —he turns to Arianna— “or fucking the CEO, is dangerous.” Arianna gasps, horrified and embarrassed at his words.
I growl, ready to tear into Jacob, but he holds up a staying hand, and only because of years of friendship do I let him speak. “HR has already been hounding me about why a new job was created without their procedures being followed. You can hire and fire assistants at will, but the way you did it? It’s just another tally in the ‘doesn’t follow the rules’ column.”
“Okay, Jacob, you’ve said your piece and you’re done. It’s my turn. You’re just doing your job, and I get that, but there are going to be pissed-off people. There always are when we come in and start changing shit. And you’re right, what I do outside the office, or inside,” I snarl, “is none of your business. But a secretary is a good thing for us both. Arianna can help me, but she can also help you. Feel free to offload some of your duties to her so that we can work on the higher-level stuff for the board. She can do more than make copies and coffee, so use her. I want her to learn.”
Jacob and I have a war with our eyes, neither of us willing to give in to the other. Finally, he sighs and turns to Arianna. “I’ve read your file. I know you’re smart . . . 3.85 GPA in international business with a minor in finance, and impressive internships and references. But one of my jobs is to protect Liam. Do I need to protect him from you?”
It’s a blunt question, and not one I foresaw him asking. Arianna seems to take it stride, having recovered enough from her initial mortification at being called out to watch my exchange with Jacob closely, though I can still see the slight flush to her cheeks. “Mr. Wilkes, working for Morgan has been a dream of mine. Professionally, getting to be a fly on the wall and watch Mr. Blackstone work at turning this ship around is an experience I wouldn’t dare mess up. Personally, while it is a delicate dance, we are figuring things out appropriately, and rest assured it will not affect my professionalism nor have ugly ramifications in the future.”
Usually, when people couch what they’re saying in business lingo, I tune out the droning. But listening to Arianna slay business babble is apparently a new turn-on for me, especially when she says we’re figuring things out. Because I’m damn sure figuring her out, bit by bit, response by response, and I like what I’m learning about her.
Jacob looks between the two of us and sighs again, rolling his eyes, but he seems to be a little less concerned. “Okay. I hear you. I’m with you all the way, no matter what. Just saying, a little tact goes a long way.”
“Yeah, well, so does a little recognition. You know I’m not going to let my personal life
interfere with what we’re doing. We’re already turning this company around, Jacob. You and me. We’ve busted our asses, given up a shitload of nights out, and had too many cold dinners at home to count. Now we’re here, and nothing’s going to stop us. This isn’t a one-man show, no matter what the image might be.”
Jacob nods. “Thanks for that, Liam. I’ll do my best, then. I won’t let you down.”
“That’s the spirit. Now, look at my desk. See the coffee and my sandwich? That’s two duties you don’t have to do from now on.”
Jacob looks at the sandwich and then to Arianna before laughing a little. “Great, my two easiest duties taken care of. Now what will I do with all my spare time?”
“Keep my ass out of the fire,” I reply, shifting a little. Despite my bravado, Melvin’s comments could be a problem. “If I’m causing a divide within the company this early in the game, we’ll do well to listen to the rumblings . . . just a little bit.”
Jacob nods and stands, leaving the weight of his concerns on my shoulders. But he gives both me and Arianna a pointed look as he closes the door. He’s watching us, making sure we don’t misstep or let this, whatever this is, affect work. It’s not what I typically ask of him, but I’m damn sure he’s got my back. And maybe Arianna’s too.
She looks back to me, and I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she processes everything she just witnessed, evaluating it for every nugget of information she can glean. Finally, she says, “Now what?”
When most people ask me a question like that, it’s because they’re waiting for me to set the course and to proceed, ready to follow me to the slaughterhouse if I deem it, like sheeple following their leader. Me. But when Arianna asks that, it almost feels like she’s already decided on the proper course of action and she’s testing me to see if I have the right answer. The thought that she might consider that she knows more than I do amuses me, but at the same time, I respect her mind and am curious what she has in hers. “You tell me.”
Leather and Lace Page 6