by Paige North
“If you don’t want an apology, then what do you want?” she asked, surprised at her own forwardness.
For the first time, his expression changed. That slight little grin disappeared and his nostrils flared. “I want to teach you,” he replied.
“Teach me what?”
“Discipline.” His hand snaked to his suit coat and unbuttoned the top button, loosening the coat slightly.
Discipline.
The instant he said the word, Ivy felt her nipples stiffen in response, and she was worried that perhaps Cullen even knew it. He was sitting so close, and the light in the room was bright against her white blouse.
She wanted to look down and check, wishing for a sweater to cover herself.
It was humiliating to get turned on this way, and for him to possibly know that her nipples were hard made it a million times worse.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”
“Would you like to know more?”
“I guess.”
“You guess?” He made a face of disgust and stood up, as if needing to distance himself from her now. “You shouldn’t have to guess. It’s a simple question, Ivy.”
“Yes, I want to know more. I just have no idea what we’re talking about.” Her voice had taken on a whining, frustrated tone.
Cullen stared down at her, his cheekbones high, his expression seemingly chiseled in stone. “You’re going to learn how to please me. And once you do that, the things you refer to as mistakes will stop happening.”
She shifted in her seat, her brow creasing. “Everyone makes mistakes, though,” she insisted.
“I don’t.” His lips twitched. “And perhaps you don’t need to either.”
“But why? Why do you want to teach me…whatever it is you’re going to teach me?” She threw her hands in the air, befuddled. “I’m just a temp.”
He turned his back to her and walked toward the window overlooking the city. Against the backdrop, he looked like an image from a slick magazine—Vogue, perhaps, or The New Yorker.
If only I had a camera, this would make a great picture.
“I have an eye for talent,” Cullen said, after a long silence. He turned back towards her. “When I started this business, they thought I was insane. I hired people that the business world assumed were the wrong choices. Everyone on Wall Street insisted I would fail within the first year.”
“But you didn’t fail,” she whispered.
“No,” he said. His eyes connected with hers and for the first time, she thought she saw something behind the cool diamond hardness of his gaze.
What was it? What did she sense behind his eyes? Someone vulnerable, someone who actually had real human emotions like her?
As quickly as the feeling arose, it passed, like the moon being obscured by clouds. His eyes were just cold and watchful once more.
Ivy folded her hands in her lap and licked her lips. “So what happens now?”
“What happens now is that we start our work together,” Cullen said, his voice becoming more formal. “How does that sound?”
“Okay, I guess—“ she caught the words too late.
His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. “You guess,” he said. He shook his head and sighed. “Let’s go back to this morning when you brought me my coffee. Why did you spill it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie, Ivy. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” she said, her voice petulant.
“You don’t think you’re lying, but that’s only because you lie to yourself.” He crossed his arms and watched her. “Now tell me why you spilled the coffee.”
She felt sweat breaking out on her forehead and beneath her arms. The cool room was becoming hotter now, as if someone was turning up the thermostat. “I got nervous. I was so focused on doing everything just right…”
She thought about how catching sight of his smile that morning had distracted her—the sight of his perfect lips up close had caused her to fumble the tray enough to allow the cup to fall on its side. But she couldn’t admit that to him.
“I got distracted,” she said, keeping her answer vague. “I was so in my head that I lost track of what I was doing.”
Cullen nodded as if approving of her answer. “Do you know why you were so nervous in the first place?”
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “You’re a very intimidating person.”
“And why is that?” he asked, seeming to be sincere.
She laughed at the obviousness of the answer. “You own this company and I’m a temp.”
“And that makes you nervous.”
“Yes, because you can fire me. I need the money.”
Cullen nodded almost imperceptibly. “You’re terrified of consequences, Ivy. I’m going to help you learn to deal with consequences.”
Ivy felt her stomach tensing at his insistent words and the force of his personality. It was as if she couldn’t even breathe anymore.
Suddenly, she wanted out. Out of the room. Out from under his intense scrutiny. “I think I need to go now,” she said, wanting to run. Wanting to escape. She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can really do this.”
“You so obviously want to do this, Ivy.” His gaze flicked down to her breasts, and then her legs. She felt as if he was undressing her right there with his eyes, and she crossed her legs and tugged on her skirt, feeling that her thighs were exposed.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, she thought.
But then why were her nipples so stiff and tender? Why did she feel a strange stirring in her lower belly, and even further down?
Between her legs?
She felt positively drenched in sweat. “Are you…are you being inappropriate with me, Mister Sharpe?”
Cullen grinned, a real full grin that she’d never seen him do before. “What if I say yes?”
He’s enjoying this. He’s loving it.
“I’d say that…” She cleared her throat and raised her voice. “I’d say that you shouldn’t take advantage of your job title to make someone in my position feel uncomfortable.”
“If you want this to stop, you only need to say the word.” He returned to sit behind his black desk.
She swallowed drily.
Of course I want this to stop.
She almost said the words, except that she suddenly wasn’t sure of what she wanted at all.
Is Cullen Sharpe hitting on me? Does he want me sexually? Or is this just some perverse game where he gets to make a temp’s head spin and then he laughs about it later on with his other male co-workers?
She didn’t have the faintest clue anymore. Cullen had managed to completely befuddle her in the space of a few minutes.
She sighed, shaking her head. “I feel like you’re toying with me.”
His nostrils flared. “Someday you’ll beg me to toy with you.”
The moment the words exited his mouth, Ivy felt her pussy get wet. She couldn’t believe he’d been so overtly sexual in his comments to her.
And the worst part was, she knew he was telling the truth.
Her mind flashed on an image of Cullen, stark naked, his muscular body on top of hers, slick with sweat, his hips pressing into her, and him entering her—pushing between her legs, filling her.
It was like a vision of the future and she was blown away by how quickly her body had responded to the idea.
This can’t be happening.
The founder of Biomatrix Pharma, the CEO of the company—the multi-millionaire genius who could have any woman just by snapping his fingers—could not truly want her.
She must be confused. Except she was starting to feel certain that she wasn’t confused at all. Cullen Sharpe was making himself all too clear, and she simply didn’t know how to deal with it.
“And if I say yes? If I agree to be…to be taught or whatever?” she said.
“Say yes and find out.”
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“Yes.” The answer came out of her mouth so quickly that she didn’t even know she’d said it at first. It was as if someone had taken control of her body, like she was a puppet.
Cullen smiled again, and she saw distinctive hunger in his eyes. “Stand up, Ivy.”
Trembling, she stood. Her body was bathed in a thin sheen of sweat. Glancing down at herself briefly, she could see quite plainly that her nipples were showing through her blouse.
And her pussy was so wet that she wouldn’t have been surprised if he could smell her sex from across the room.
This is wrong. This is crazy.
And yet, she wasn’t going to deny that she wanted the attention from this man—perhaps wanted more of it than he could even give. Her heart pounded.
He didn’t say anything for a while. She started to feel silly standing there.
“Should I leave now?” she said, after a moment. “Is this the end of the meeting?”
“No,” he said. “We’re only just beginning. Come to me.”
She squared her shoulders and crossed to the desk, stepping up onto the slightly raised platform, grateful at least not to have tripped and shown herself to be a klutz yet again.
“Here I am,” she said, smiling, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Yes, here you are,” he agreed, and his eyes surveyed her body and face. She felt completely disarmed and disrobed.
“Now we’re going to begin our lessons. Lesson number one,” he said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers in front of his chin. “I want you to recite the alphabet in less than one minute, mistake free.”
She smiled. I’m not quite that dumb, she wanted to tell him.
And then, as if he knew what she was thinking, he spoke again. “You’ll recite it backwards. Please don’t fail the first assignment,” he added. “That would be very bad.”
Her smile faded.
“Oh…okay…backwards…” she muttered, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to recall what the alphabet even was.
“You’ll begin now,” Cullen told her, checking the time on his expensive, thick wristwatch.
She began reciting the alphabet backwards, slowly, closing her eyes and trying to will herself to calm down.
It shouldn’t be that hard, she kept telling herself.
But then Cullen stood up and began walking towards her, obviously trying to distract her.
It worked.
Instantly, she was flustered. He was soon right next to her, watching from inches away as she recited the alphabet backwards.
He circled around behind her and she paused in her recitation as his finger trailed up the back of her blouse, making her shiver uncontrollably.
“Continue, Ivy,” he commanded. “Do not stop, no matter what I do.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.” She was halfway through the alphabet. Picking up where she left off, Ivy tried to stay focused. He was playing some crazy game and she was determined not to let him win so easily.
But the more determined she became, the more Cullen seemed to elevate his own antics. Now she felt something on the back of her neck, grazing her bare skin—possibly his lips—and she stumbled slightly over her letters.
“That was very close to being an error,” he whispered into her ear. “Continue, and be more careful.”
Her body was flush with heat, and she was faltering, losing her confidence and her focus as the sexy billionaire teased her.
He walked around her in yet another circle as she closed in on finishing her recitation of the alphabet.
She was going to finish, going to succeed despite his attempts to screw her up.
But as she got to the final few letters, Cullen did the unthinkable, stopping in front of her. His long fingers grasped the top button on her blouse and popped it loose, opening her shirt up slightly. Quickly, he repeated this motion on the next button, and now her cleavage was showing, and the tips of his fingers had made direct contact her bare skin.
At that moment, she completely lost track of where she was and mixed up the letters E and F.
Who mixes up E and F? she thought, furious at herself.
She saw that Cullen Sharpe had a positively feral look on his face. “You failed the task.”
“I’ll try again—“
“First, you must get comfortable with receiving a consequence for your errors.”
“Consequence? Like a punishment?”
“Enough questions,” he replied brusquely. “Now put your palms flat on the desk, Ivy. Eyes straight ahead.”
It occurred to her that he intended to slap her hands with a ruler and she flinched inwardly. But she leaned forward and put her palms on the cool, hard surface of the desk as he’d instructed her to do.
Cullen stepped slightly behind her, but she could feel that he was very close to her. His body had never been this near until now, and she instantly felt herself responding with an increased sense of desire to be touched by him.
What’s he doing? She wondered.
Her heart was beating so fast that she was sure it was going to burst.
“In the future, you’ll refer to me as Sir, or Mister Sharpe unless I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?” he said, and his voice seemed to boom, like a stern professor lecturing an unruly student.
She felt confused. “I…I guess—“
Suddenly, she felt his palm as it crashed painfully into her backside, slapping her buttocks with enough force to jar her entire body forward. “You don’t guess, Ivy. And you say ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘Yes, Mister Sharpe.’ That’s the correct answer. Understood?”
She paused, swallowing, her brain a jumble of confusion and mixed emotions. Her butt stung from the blow, and she couldn’t quite believe it.
He just spanked me. Cullen Sharpe spanked me!
It was almost comical how outraged her thoughts were, and yet she was still in position, her palms flat on the desk, her butt sticking out as if begging for another strike.
“Answer me. Now.” His voice was tinged with impatience.
“Yes, Mister Sharpe,” she said, and only afterwards did she realize that she’d moaned her response, nearly breathless from anxiety and confusion and desire.
“Good,” he told her. She felt one hand grip her waist firmly. The other hand slid onto the fabric of her skirt and grasping it into his fist, he pulled the skirt up over her buttocks to reveal her ass and her panties.
She gasped. “Cullen, what are you doing?”
“I told you how to refer to me,” he growled. “That’s yet another error.” With one hand, he kept her skirt up over her hips, and with the other, he slid her panties down to her upper thighs, leaving her ass bare.
“Mister…Mister Sharpe…” she tried to speak, but her voice was failing her now.
What is he doing? What is he doing?
“You must receive another consequence now,” he said, his voice husky.
She could feel him, feel his hips positioned right behind her.
He’s going to take me doggystyle.
The thought was as frightening as it was exciting
I’ve never even slept with a man before. This is insane. Cullen Sharpe is about to fuck me. My panties are down.
She suddenly pulled away from his grasp and stood up straight, taking her hands off the desk, immediately pulling up her panties. “I can’t. I can’t do this,” she said.
“Put your hands back on the desk, Ivy. We’re not done here.”
Trembling, she stood her ground. “I don’t want to do this,” she told him.
And it was a lie, because she did want to do it. She wanted Cullen Sharpe more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
But he also terrified her more than anything or anyone that she’d ever met.
“You’ve made your choice, then,” he said, one eyebrow arching as if he suspected that she wasn’t being honest with him.
She wanted to take what she’d said back immediately—to explain that she’d j
ust been scared because she hadn’t known how far he would go otherwise.
I’ll put my hands back on the desk. I’ll do whatever you tell me.
She stood rooted to the floor, not knowing what to say anymore.
Cullen, for his part, fixed his slightly wrinkled suit coat, straightening it meticulously. Then he walked across the room and to the exit, opening the door and gesturing to the hallway. “This is the end of our lesson together,” he said.
She stared ahead, feeling regret and loss much more deeply than she would’ve expected.
Ashamed, she couldn’t even look at him as she walked by. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, knowing he didn’t care.
But as the door closed, what he said next was even more surprising.
“You made the right decision,” he said, and then the door snapped shut and the light turned red.
THE END OF BOOK 1
Consequence (The Billionaire’s Rules, Book 2)
What just happened in there? Ivy asked herself.
He spanked you. He pulled your skirt up, ripped your panties down, exposing your bare ass. He was going to do a lot more than that, but you ran away before he got the chance.
Ivy took a deep, shuddering breath as she stood just outside Cullen Sharpe’s closed and locked office door. The tears were very close to the surface, but she’d so far managed to keep them at bay.
He can see you right now. There are cameras everywhere around here.
She wiped her hair out of her face and started walking, pretending that everything was fine. She didn’t want the CEO to know that she was so upset, if he was indeed watching her over closed circuit TV right now.
But as she walked to the elevators and waited for the doors to open, the images and memories of what had just occurred were flooding her mind.
She closed her eyes and allowed it to happen.
His hands, touching her.
The feel of her panties as they were slid down over her hips, revealing everything. His warm hands, those long fingers, the beckoning wetness between her thighs…