by Ana Fawkes
I was about to get fired.
That’s why Mr. Black wanted to see me.
Worse yet, it was pretty obvious that being fired by Mr. Black in person was something horrible because as I walked down to the elevators, everyone took a second to look at me and nod.
They all knew.
I didn’t.
I could only picture the sexy billionaire I had met in the elevators. The one who put his hand to mine, comparing sizes, leaving my body melting, my skin tingling, and my mind conjuring up images of what else would be so much bigger than me.
As the doors shut, I heard someone mentioning something about me being late.
Fuck.
That’s when I realized Angela had to be right.
How stupid of a woman could I possibly be?
Being late to work was one thing but you had to do it right. You had to sneak in or at least have a plan or a decent excuse. But to ride the elevator with the CEO of the company when your shift was supposed to start fifteen minutes before hand…
“Stupid,” I whispered at the blurred image of myself reflecting back on the steel doors.
The ride only took seconds, but I took longer to step off the elevator.
I almost just pressed the one button and went home.
Fired was fired, right?
Why go through the motions… hearing him scold me, belittle me, tell me how he gave me a chance and I blew it…
But then I caught myself smiling.
How hot would that be?
How hot would it be if Mr. Black said all that stuff to me?
Maybe he’d sit me in a chair and lean against his desk near me. Maybe he’d raise his voice. Maybe he’d get so infuriated with me, he’d lose all his control…
“Ms. Grace?”
I snapped out of another fantasy.
I was greeted by a middle aged woman who stood very tall. She was very skinny and wore what looked like a very expensive suit.
“Yes… I’m Isabella Grace.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” the woman said. “Please follow me, Mr. Black has you scheduled in for five minutes. We cannot run late.”
I started to walk and then hurried to catch up to the woman.
“He had this planned?” I asked. “I mean… with me…”
“I’m not at liberty to speak of Mr. Black’s personal appointment requests. I just make sure they are fulfilled. I’m surprised he called you even.” The woman looked at me and half smiled. “That’s normally my job.” She shrugged her shoulders and remained silent until we came to the end of a large hall that had a single door. Not just one door, but two. A large set of double doors. Black doors against the wood color of the office looked wrong but knowing what waited behind them made it feel so right. The look came across powerful, telling anyone who dared to touch the shiny steel handles that they were about to enter something intense.
The woman knocked twice and then said, “Isabella Grace is here to see you, sir.”
“Open the doors,” a voice boomed.
I knew the voice.
The voice of Jonathan Black.
My body heated up.
The woman turned the handle and then leaned towards me. “Try not to look so nervous. You look like you’re ready to pass out…”
What can I say? That’s how I felt.
She opened the door and I stepped into his office.
Before the door could close I knew my life would never be the same again.
-5-
“Isabella Grace.”
My name never sounded so sweet and sexy coming from another person’s mouth. Granted, all my life I have been given compliments for my name, but it wasn’t me who gave myself the name. Thank my grandmother.
“Sir,” I whispered. “That’s me.”
“Of course it is.”
His eyes were wandering on me. I could feel him inhaling me, sensing me, testing me. I wanted him to acknowledge us in the elevator together but he didn’t. He acted as if the entire thing never happened.
He sat behind his long desk, one hand made into a fist and the other hand flat on his desk. He opened his fist and pointed to one of three chairs on the opposite side of his desk.
“Sit, right now.”
The command of right now had an earthquake effect inside my body. I shook but hurried to appease him. Part of me wanted to turn and run, but most of me wanted to be there. Right where I was. I sat in the leather chair and gripped the smooth arms. My hands were shaking and I hoped by holding the arms tight Jonathan wouldn’t notice.
“You’re shaking,” he spoke with his eyes set to my eyes.
“Yes,” I replied. “I am.”
“Why?”
“Because.” Why? Why was I shaking? Could I just blurt it all out? Admit my fantasies for him? Confess my desires? Tell him how he kept me company at night even though he wasn’t there? I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t do it.
“Because why?” he asked. His voice started to change then. He never had a nice voice to begin with but his tone, when it changed, was like the warning roar of a lion. Ready to attack. Ready to fight.
“You’re the boss,” I said.
How stupid. How pathetic. Of all things to say. You’re the boss. Jonathan Black was more than just the boss. He was the everything. He was the CEO, the commander, the billionaire.
“I mean, I always dealt directly with Mr. Williams.” I saved myself, sort of.
“Ah, yes. So sitting here, in my office, how does it make you feel?”
“Nervous. I sort of got the warning that you would probably fire me.”
Jonathan Black nodded. He glanced away from me for a second and then with a raised eyebrow he asked, “Do you feel you should be fired?”
That question took my breath away. I didn’t want to be fired, but should have I been? Showing up to work late three days in a row.
“Then again, if that article you were reading is so captivating, maybe I should save it and share it with my company. Or maybe I should burn it. Something so interesting, keeping someone away from their job…”
I was busted. He knew everything, and of course he did.
He was Jonathan Black.
Nothing could have or should have surprised me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized.
“See, I’m left wondering what a person who worked so hard for three months to get a job offer would be doing standing in the lobby of my building, flipping through a magazine that’s old and irrelevant.”
I couldn’t speak.
I knew I wasn’t allowed to speak but even then, I couldn’t. I had nothing.
“Three days in a row,” Mr. Black continued. “Three mornings you’ve stood there. But the best part… the moment I arrive, you rush to work.”
He paused and folded his hands. He looked at me without a sense of emotion. His eyes were alive, moving everywhere. He wanted to break me down, in silence, and he did it. I was nothing compared to him in that silence and I almost felt like I needed to cry to give him something in return.
“I will admit that it has been fun watching you, Ms. Grace.”
Watching me?
Mr. Black was watching me?
“Again, sir, I apologize for my actions,” I stammered to say. “It was… poor judgment.”
“Can you listen?”
I opened my mouth and Mr. Black put up a hand.
“Can you… follow command?”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I’m a good worker. I promise.”
“Do you know who Richard Stevens is?”
I shook my head.
“Top of his class. Double majored in college with a minor in Japanese language studies. One of the smart young men to walk the halls of my company looking for a job. He should have had your job. But he doesn’t, does he? I chose you, personally.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”
“You have no choice right now. You can’t let me down. I sent Mr. Stevens to
Japan to start work on a new project. My board is pissed that I would make such a bold move with a man who has no experience but I’ve lived my life off of bold moves. Bold moves are what keeps my blood pumping. I’m also built on focus and need. In other words, when I see something I want, I get it.”
Mr. Black started to stand from his chair. Even against the massive desk, he looked big and strong. He looked radiant and confident. The window behind his desk had just the right amount of sun coming through it that it silhouetted around him.
“And if there’s something I need,” he said in a softer voice, “well, I always get what I want and I always have what I need.”
He started to walk along his desk. I followed the lines of his face, holding the image of his defined jaw in my memory, wishing my tongue could have the chance to taste him.
“Do you know how I handle my wants and needs?”
He turned and looked at me.
“Isabella Grace…”
Hearing the name again had the same results as before. My body felt like mush, my grip on the chair hadn’t let go.
“How?” I asked.
Jonathan Black looked away from me. He finished his walk to the end of his desk and then around it. Just as I had fantasized, he stopped in front of me and leaned on his desk. He placed his hands in his pockets. Clothed yet exposed to me. I respected the move. Most men would cross their arms. Jonathan, with his hands in his pockets, sent a signal of no fear. Of domination in all situations… maybe even domination of me.
His eyes met mine again. He was serious and in control. “My command, Isabella Grace. My command. I speak, the world listens.”
I nodded.
“The really good people already know what I need and are there. Like you, Isabella Grace. Like you. You were there, waiting for three days, weren’t you? You were there, waiting for me to get on that elevator. You were there, inside, hoping I’d speak to you. Hoping I’d touch you. So now you are mine… under my command…”
I nodded again.
At that point, my mind didn’t actually comprehend everything Jonathan Black was saying. The talk of command only registered the idea of being at work, being in the office. Sure, I had sexual fantasies running rampant in my mind but I did my best focus.
He took a hand from his pocket and touched my face. His fingers touched near the back of my head, liberally slipping into my hair. He curled his fingers, digging into me as his warm palm lay flat on my neck and his thumb rubbed my cheek.
“I can smell your desire and innocence,” he whispered. “Such an interesting combination. You’ve been waiting for me, Isabella Grace, and I’ve been watching you. Studying you. Trying to know if you could be under my command.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” I said.
It was my last chance at having any sort of control.
Almost instantly Jonathan Black’s hand gripped tight on my neck.
I gasped for air and blinked furiously.
I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me.
Maybe he liked pain. Maybe he liked seeing people in fear.
“You’re under my command. I need someone directly under me. I’m tired, Isabella Grace, tired of inconsistencies in my life and my company. Someone needs to be perfect, here, for me. Someone needs my command to see the right way.”
“Yes, sir, I understand.”
“Let’s see if you understand.”
I didn’t understand how he could speak so effortlessly. My mouth kept running dry and as he pulled at me, wanting me to stand, it took me a few seconds to find not only the strength in my legs but also the feeling in them. I pushed myself up and stood before him, looking up at him. Being that close finally confirmed our height difference. My head would have nestled perfectly into his hard chest… maybe that day would come.
With his hand still on my neck, his gripped loosened a little. His other hand touched me at my lower back, his fingers aggressively pulling at my shirt, going under it. He pulled me in, forcing my lower half against his.
My body relaxed and succumbed to him.
I could feel his thickness pressing, moving and throbbing, still growing.
He put his lips to my ears and let out a breath.
“I am your only desire, Isabella Grace. And you are under my command.” He thrust himself at me, rubbing hard against my tender, still clothed body. “You will do as I say, when I say. A second of hesitation will cost you everything. I know more than you care to understand or need to know.” His thumb dug into my cheek just a little too hard. I moaned because within the small pings of pain there were pulses of pleasure. Face it, a touch from Jonathan Black was pleasure, no matter what. “I am everything, and not just inside this office or this company. I am everything, to you.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I understand.”
“Now touch me, feel what waits if you can be commanded.”
I couldn’t believe my ears had received such words. My right hand came forward. I touched cloth a fraction of a second before I felt him. My hand shook as I cupped him, or at least attempted to cup him. My hand was too small to hold him, so I ran my hand up and down, making sure I could feel all of him. My fingertips were given the pleasure of finding his definition, from the round tip of him all the way down to the root of his sex, where it met with his body. I came up from there and let my middle and ring finger slid into his belt and waited.
I stared at Jonathan, waiting for his command.
I could see something flickering in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
Rage?
Passion?
Lust?
Hate?
Whatever it was, it was something I’d never seen before. It was something that had me frozen, my heart jumping harder than ever, battling between pleasure and fear. I had never feared for my life until that moment. And I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feared Jonathan Black. Maybe it was his strong words, his strong grip, or maybe it was the fact that he knew more about me than anyone else.
He let out a long breath and blinked.
That was it.
He pushed off his desk and crashed hard against my body. I was knocked back a few steps. The back of my knees hit the chair I had just been sitting in and the sudden pain forced me to try to sit. Jonathan held me with his hand at my lower back and he swung his foot up, kicking the heavy chair over. It landed backwards with a thunderous sound.
Jonathan then lifted me off the ground. My reaction was to wrap my legs around his body and hold him close and tight between my legs.
But that’s not what he wanted.
He shook his head and let out a sound that resembled a growl.
His hand moved into the back of my skirt and he gripped my skirt, forcing me to the ground, forcing my feet to find some kind of balance. My feet hit the floor and I stumbled forward, my arms out. Jonathan moved aside but his one hand did not let go of my skirt. His other hand, the one that had been on my face, hurried and grabbed my hip. Before I realized what was happening, both his hands were at my hips and he positioned himself directly behind me. My hands found comfort on his desk and I was able to catch myself. When I looked up, I realized just what kind of position I was in.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the look in Jonathan Black’s eyes again.
He pressed himself against me and I felt him again.
He was going to have me… in many ways.
-6-
His hand came around to the front of my skirt. His hands lay flat on my legs, forcing my skirt to fold in. He then slipped his hands into my skirt, pulling it down just a little, showing off my sexy pair of red laced panties. I couldn’t believe I wore such a sexy pair to work that day. Perhaps a little fate and destiny playing together.
His hands felt rough against my legs and I enjoyed it. I wanted it. One hand moved to my backside, his fingertips grazing alone the line of my panties, sending chills throughout my body. His other came down and moved between my legs, cupping my warmth. He pulled,
his fierce grip forcing my panties to dig into me. My slit ached for him and when he touched the inside of my leg, skin to skin, I shuddered and moaned. He reached down a few inches and then came back, moved back over my wet panties, and went to the other side. After repeating the torturous motion one more time, his hands were back at my hips, still in my skirt.
“Take your heels off,” he said.
I fought my way out of the annoying heels and let them rest where they landed as I kicked my feet.
I lost a couple inches of height, but I knew Jonathan would find a way to make it up.
When he took his hands out of my skirt I whimpered. I was desperate for him to finish what he started. To allow me to feel everything he had to offer and to give me all he could command.
His fingers clawed at my skirt, going down, inch by inch until he reached the bottom. He lifted my skirt up to my back. I was still bent over his desk, giving him the sight he wanted to see. I was fresh for him. My skin tender and full of desire. I was the portrayal of innocence he needed and by his command, I would give him anything he wanted, and needed.
He touched my bare skin again, his hands at the sides of my legs, his thumbs massaging the skin of my backside. One hand then moved down and under, his thumb touching me again. I jumped at his touch and felt him pressing my panties into me again. He finally inched to one side, pulling my panties away, just enough to expose my tender folds. He cut right between my folds and moved his thumb up and then back. He touched all my sensitive skin, once, and then paused at my hole. He tested it, pressing, feeling it pucker against his thumb.
I could hearing Jonathan moaning and I tried to look over my shoulder at him.
I caught a glimpse for a second before his other hand came forward and he pressed his fingers to my jaw, forcing me to look forward. He leaned over me, body to body, and he let out a long breath, making my hair dance all around me.
“Don’t look unless I tell you to,” he said. “I’m testing you. You don’t want to mess this up, Isabella Grace.”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered.
His fingers remained at my jaw and I strained my eyes to look at his fingers. His other hand still remained between my legs, his thumb gently touching me, finding all my weak spots. When he flicked at my clitoris, I cried out and my knees gave way. As I gained strength back in my legs and came up, I rubbed against him, adding to the intense pleasure rolling through my body. After another minute of teasing play, Jonathan stood back up and then pressed his thumb into me, finally penetrating me.