The Office Slave Series, Book 7 & Bonus Collection

by Opal Carew

She felt him part her cheeks again and his mouth pressed against her slick flesh. He licked her and she moaned at the heat flashing across her body. He licked and suckled her flesh, then his fingers glided over her. When they pushed inside, she moaned.

  “Oh, yes, Master. That’s so good.”

  She felt his hesitation, but he continued to stroke her passage.

  “Do you want me to fuck you, baby?”

  “Yes, please Master. Fuck me hard.”

  He stood up and she heard his zipper release, then his jeans hit the floor. She sucked in a breath when his hot cockhead brushed against her aching flesh. He slowly eased inside.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” she murmured.

  He glided deep into her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close to his body, in a tight spoon position, and nuzzled her neck.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, baby. I’m going to drive my big cock into you until you scream. But I want you to call me Slade, not Master or Sir. Got it?”

  She nodded frantically, wanting him to start moving inside her.

  “Yes, Slade. Of course.”

  He drew backward and thrust forward again. Oh, God, he was so big and thick. He thrust again and she arched back against him. One of his hands glided down her belly to her pussy. He found her clit and stroked it as he thrust yet again.

  Soon he was pumping into her, driving her pleasure higher. Quickly pushing her to the edge.

  “Who am I, baby,” he asked, his breathing heavy.

  “Slade.”

  His deep thrust made her moan.

  “Please fuck me faster, Slade.”

  He glided deep inside her, faster and faster. She tightened around him, clutching his big shaft inside her, feeling it drag along her channel. She quivered in his arms as blissful sensations blossomed inside her.

  He kissed her neck, his cock still driving into her.

  “Are you close, baby? Are you going to come soon? Because I’m almost there.”

  “Tell me to come and I will.” Her words came out breathy.

  He pumped deep. “Come now.”

  An orgasm swelled inside her, curling through the edges of her consciousness, then blasted outward. At her loud moan, he thrust faster, filling her like a jackhammer. The pleasure built and she wailed louder and louder.

  He groaned and she felt his cock explode inside her. He held her tight to him, their bodies still moving as her orgasm sailed on and on.

  His movements slowed as her orgasm waned until finally, she stood panting in his arms. He drew back and turned her around.

  “That was sensational.” He smiled, stroking her hair back. “I love that you come on command.” He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. “Now I want you naked in my bed and we’ll do it my way.”

  “That’s exactly what I want to do, Mas—” At his frown, she stopped short. “I mean, Slade.”

  “My way means you call me Slade, not Sir or Master. There’s no punishment. And we have some good old-fashioned sex. Are you game?”

  “Of course,” she said, biting back saying whatever you want.

  When they got to the bedroom, they stripped off their clothes and he made love to her again, this time with a sweet passion that heated her body. She imagined that he, as her Master, had commanded her to playact the part. That kept her mind focused on not making a mistake. And she acted the part perfectly, judging from his satisfied smile at the end.

  As she fell asleep in his arms, she wondered if she could get past this need to be commanded by him. She cared a great deal for Slade and wanted to make him happy. If she could be what he wanted… maybe they could both find happiness together.

  Mr. Grant downed his second scotch and set his glass on the table, staring vacantly at the ice cubes. Over a week had gone by and he had no idea where Sylvia was. He was going crazy not knowing where she was or if she was alright.

  He thought she might have gone back to Mr. King, but King said she hadn’t contacted him. He’d even contacted her friend, Becca, but she didn’t know where Sylvia was, either. Sylvia had given up her apartment after he’d sold her to King. She’d fully embraced being the man’s slave, as Mr. Grant thought she would for him, too. He never would have imagined that she’d defy him with demands of her own.

  His chest clenched.

  Demands he didn’t know how he could possibly grant. He wanted things simple. He would take care of her, meet all her needs, and she would obey him in every way. Clearly, she loved being his slave but…his hand clenched around the glass so tight his knuckles turned white…why the hell had she fallen in love with him?

  But the thought of her loving him like that… wanting him for reasons other than the way he met her needs by dominating her… sparked a need inside him that he didn’t want to examine. Her walking out on him, however, forced him to come face-to-face with that need. To question whether he could live without her. And if he couldn’t, how far was he willing to go to get her back.

  But all of that was moot if he couldn’t find her.

  He gestured for the waitress to bring another scotch. A few moments later, she set it on the table, the ice cubes tinkling against the glass.

  “How many is that?”

  Mr. Grant glanced across the table as Slade sat down. He’d asked Slade to join him for a drink after work, desperately needing someone to talk to. Someone who would understand.

  “Not enough.”

  “Guinness,” Slade said to the waitress.

  She nodded and went to fetch his beer, but not before she gave him a sexy smile. The woman was practically drooling over him. It was always like that with Slade. He appeared every bit the sexy bad boy, with his leather jacket, well worn jeans, and unshaven good looks. That and the fact he rode a Harley made Mr. Grant wonder why Slade didn’t have a different woman every night.

  But Slade didn’t like empty relationships or one-night-stands. When Sylvia had first come to the office so they could fulfill her sexual fantasy, Slade had been fully on board. What guy wouldn’t be? But Slade hadn’t treated Sylvia like a casual partner he’d just forget about. He had a deep affection for her. The other partners all liked her, but with Slade it went deeper.

  That’s why he’d asked Slade to meet him. He swirled the scotch in his glass, then took a sip.

  “You’re going to need a ride home,” Slade observed.

  He laughed. “I’m not getting on that bike of yours, if that’s what you’re suggesting.

  Slade shook his head. “I brought the car.” He smiled. “Just in case.”

  The waitress dropped off Slade’s beer. His smile of thanks sent her beaming from the table.

  Mr. Grant took another sip of his drink, then set down the glass.

  “Sylvia left,” he said simply.

  Slade took a swig of his beer. “What happened?”

  Mr. Grant stared at his drink. “She wants closeness and I don’t know how to give her that.”

  Slade leaned forward, his hand wrapped around the tall glass in front of him.

  “What kind of closeness?”

  Mr. Grant shifted in his chair. Now there was a complicated question. “I have strict rules, and one of them is that she sleeps in her own room. My bed is off limits.”

  “And she wants to sleep with you?”

  Mr. Grant nodded. “But it’s about more than that.”

  “Of course, but for you that one is symbolic.” Slade sipped his beer. “It’s a barrier that keeps the comfortable distance you’re looking for. But have you asked yourself why you need that barrier? Why if you want this woman so much… if you suffered so much when she was gone… you would risk everything and keep those barriers up?”

  “You know Sylvia. You’ve seen how she loves to submit. As her Master, I give her everything a sub needs. I dominate her, care for her, anticipate her needs.”

  “Obviously not all of them.” Slade said.

  Mr. Grant’s jaw clenched. “Why does she require something from me that I can’t
give? Why isn’t what we have enough?”

  Slade shrugged. “She needs what she needs. The question is, are you willing to get past whatever’s stopping you from giving it to her?” Slade locked gazes with him. “Or are you going to let her go?”

  Mr. Grant’s hands balled into fists. “Fuck,” he exhaled.

  He tossed back his drink. His jaw was so tight it ached.

  “Look, man,” Slade said, “I want to help you, but all I can say is that any guy would be lucky to have Sylvia in his bed. Fuck, I’d take her any day.”

  Mr. Grant stared at his friend. “I need to find a way to get her back. To convince her we can make this work. But I don’t know where she is and it’s driving me crazy. I don’t know if she’s okay.”

  Slade nodded, then took a deep sip from his glass, the amber liquid half gone now.

  “She’s okay.”

  Mr. Grant’s gaze jerked to Slade’s face. “You know where she is?” Then the light flicked on. “She’s staying with you?”

  Mr. Grant’s hand clenched around his empty glass.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now,” Slade said.

  “I want to see her. I want to convince her—”

  “What’s the point? If you still can’t give her what she needs, she won’t be happy, and she deserves to be happy. You can’t just keep pulling her back and hoping she’ll change her mind. It’s not going to happen.”

  Slade tossed back the rest of his beer, then stared at Mr. Grant. “I have one question for you. Do you love her?”

  Mr. Grant stared at Slade, his jaw twitching.

  Slade pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed some bills on the table.

  “Don’t worry, I don’t expect an answer. But you should know that she loves you, and if you don’t value that… if you can’t find it in you to return that love… you’re going to lose her forever.” Slade stood up. “And if you’re that much of a fool, I won’t have any qualms about taking her for myself.”

  Mr. Grant watched Slade turn and stride from the bar.

  Mr. Grant climbed into the cab and gave the driver his address, then sank into the seat. He raked his hand through his hair as Slade’s words pounded through his head.

  If you can’t find it in you to return that love… you’re going to lose her forever.

  Fuck! He wanted her. He needed her.

  But did he love her?

  He didn’t want to live without her. Every day she had been gone had been agony.

  When he got home, he wandered through the house, feeling the emptiness of it. Once he’d valued his solitude here, bringing in a sub when he wanted sexual release, but he rarely let a woman stay more than a weekend. Sylvia had changed that. He wanted her here. He wanted access to her whenever he needed her. Which seemed to be all the time.

  But could he give her what she needed? Could he allow the intimacy of letting her stay in his bed?

  The very thought made him uncomfortable. Even though he loved holding her close… loved waking up to her soft body against his… he felt a nebulous but potent fear of losing himself if he allowed that luxury.

  If only he could get past that fear.

  He had to try. But if he tried and failed…

  He shook his head, knowing that if he brought Sylvia back with the promise of moving forward and failed, it would definitely be the end.

  Trying wasn’t an option. He had to succeed.

  He needed a plan. And he needed help.

  There was only one person who could help him.

  He picked up the phone.

  Three days later, Sylvia sat on the couch waiting for Slade to return from the den. She was hoping when he came back that she could have some intimate time with him. She’d decided she’d straight-up ask him.

  He’d gone out with Mr. Grant for a drink a couple of days ago and since then, he’d seemed more reserved toward her. Seeing Mr. Grant had probably triggered guilt at allowing her to stay here. He hadn’t made love to her since then and she missed that closeness.

  Slade walked into the living room and sat down beside her. “Sylvia, I was just talking to Mr. Grant. He misses you.”

  “Does he know I’m here.”

  He nodded. “I told him the other day.” He linked his fingers and stared at them. “He was worried not knowing where you were or if you were okay so I had to tell him.”

  “So what did he want tonight?”

  “Sylvia, you know I love having you here.” He stroked a lock of errant hair from her forehead. “And I would love for things to work out between us. But he misses you and it’s clear you miss him.”

  She frowned. “I can’t go back to what I had with him.”

  “I know. And he knows that, too. He and I have been talking about it for the past few days and what he’s suggesting is that you meet him tonight. He wants to try and prove to you that he can make changes.”

  “How?”

  He shook his head. “Agree to meet him. I’ll take you… and I’ll stay if you want me to. Whatever will make you comfortable.”

  Her heart ached at the thought of seeing Mr. Grant again. She hadn’t stopped loving him. Not for a minute. But she didn’t want to be hurt.

  Could he really make changes? And what would be enough?

  She pursed her lips. “If he’s willing to try, then it’s only fair I give him the chance.”

  “Good,” Slade said, but she could see the sadness behind his smile.

  Sylvia’s hand was nestled in Slade’s as he lead her to the ornate red door on the front of a nondescript building set in the midst of other nondescript buildings on a quiet side street. He knocked and the door opened. The man stepped back to let them in, clearly recognizing Slade. He handed Slade a key.

  “What is this place?” Sylvia asked as Slade led her through a wood-paneled entryway, down a hallway.

  “It’s a discreet place where people of certain tastes can meet and enjoy their common interests.”

  “That sounds very cryptic.” She followed him up a staircase.

  He grinned. “True. It’s an exclusive hotel for people who enjoy BDSM and want a room equipped for that purpose.”

  “I see.” So Mr. Grant didn’t want to just talk to her.

  The small hope that had been rising in her crashed. She and Mr. Grant had no problems in the sex department. Once he took control of her, she was entranced by the way he made her feel. It was after the sex was done that the problems occurred. She felt keenly isolated from him. That distance was present during their sexual encounters, too, but was far overwhelmed by the potent way he filled her other needs.

  Still, she couldn’t walk away from this opportunity to be with him again one more time.

  Slade stopped in front of a door and slipped the key in the lock. He pushed open the door and pressed his hand to Sylvia’s lower back, guiding her into the room.

  She glanced around. It looked like a perfectly normal hotel suite. A bright, cheerful room in neutral tones. Comfy looking chairs and couch. Nice art on the walls. Floral arrangements.

  “You look dismayed,” Slade observed.

  “Well, I guess I expected something dark and windowless with iron rings on the wall and chains.”

  He grinned. “Oh, they have that room if you want to book it sometime.”

  He led her to one of the doors off the main area and opened it.

  Her breath caught at the sight of Mr. Grant, totally naked, and bound. He sat against the wall on a padded leather bench, the restraints on his ankles keeping his legs apart, exposing his magnificent cock. His arms were above his head, attached to the wall.

  And in his mouth was a ball-gag.

  She stepped further into the room, mesmerized by the sight of him like this. Exposed. Vulnerable.

  Without thinking, she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, then unzipped her jeans and pushed them to the floor. She wanted to walk right to him. To touch him. To feel his skin against her fingertips�
� her lips.

  But she wasn’t sure. The feelings inside her were confusing and a little frightening. He was supposed to master her, but like this, he was at her mercy. She had to take the lead.

  And she could take from him what she wanted. She could touch him…feel him. Get as close as she wanted… at least physically. But she didn’t want to force something on him he didn’t want. She wanted him to want to be close to her.

  At least this was a start. He was trying. He was giving himself to her in this way.

  She glanced at Slade uncertainly, as much to check if he was still there as to get guidance. He nodded, and she knew he was giving her permission to go to Mr. Grant. To touch him… however she wanted to.

  Butterflies fluttered through her stomach. For the first time, she gazed at Mr. Grant’s eyes. He watched her with an intensity that stole her confidence. How could she walk to her Master and do the things she longed to do to him? Although he was bound and gagged, the authority still shone from those riveting steel-blue eyes of his.

  Instead of walking to Mr. Grant, she moved close to Slade and, facing Mr. Grant, pushed down her panties, then drew Slade’s arms around her. She guided his hand to her pussy, urging him to stroke her. His big fingers slipped over her folds. They glided over the slickness there.

  “She’s really wet,” Slade said, his gaze on Mr. Grant.

  Sylvia unfastened her bra and tossed it away, then cupped her breasts and lifted, her gaze locked on Mr. Grant’s. His eyes glittered with desire.

  She stroked her hard nipples with her fingertips, quivering sensations fluttering through her right down to her core. Then she covered Slade’s hand and pushed his fingers into her opening, following with her own. He stroked and teased her inner passage, ramping up her need.

  She drew her hand away and leaned back against him, opening her legs more, exposing her pussy to Mr. Grant so he could see the fingers gliding into her.

  Slade nuzzled her neck with his lips. “Go to him,” he murmured against her ear.

  Without thought, she obeyed, stepping out of Slade’s warm embrace and walking across the carpeted floor. Mr. Grant’s cock was big and throbbing. She could see the veins pulsing as she took her final steps, then stood between his knees. She knelt on the floor in front of him and touched his chest. Smooth skin stretched over hard muscle. The feel of him took her breath away.