My First Time With My Dad's Boss

by Sienna Swan

  My fluttery heart settles only a little, knowing now that Macy is on the payroll and not there to fill his bed. Then again, isn’t that exactly what I’m trying to do? Hypocrisy is a curious thing.

  “I always wanted a dog. Mom was allergic though, so we never got one.”

  I poke at my meal a little, my stomach too twisted to eat much. I’m in Mason’s home, with him, and he’s even more perfect than I thought before. I can’t stand it. Couldn’t there just be something wrong with him, other than his massive arrogance and superiority complex? Because those just make him sort of hotter and I don’t think that’s fair.

  “What about after?” Mason asks carefully, like he was still not sure if he should ask that. “She’s been gone for a few years, I know.”

  I nod. She has. It still feels like yesterday.

  “Dad wanted to keep things the same as when she was there. We still have the same drapes, same furniture, her dresser is still full of her clothes. It feels a little bit like a shrine to someone, but I love her very much so I don’t mind,” I tell him, my appetite well and truly missing now.

  “Keeping things the same meant that there would be no dog. It’s fine, obviously, I just get excited when I see one now, one of those things I can’t have and then want all the more badly.”

  Our eyes meet for a moment as Henry nudges at my palm to keep petting him. I’m sure Mason read more out of that than I maybe intended to. When he takes my free hand gently and squeezes it, jolts of lightning go through me.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Cassie. I know it’s been a while but I understand loss like that doesn’t just go away. For what it’s worth, you’re welcome to play with Henry as much as you want. He’d appreciate that, wouldn’t you, boy?” Mason queries, glancing at Henry.

  Henry pounds his tail against the floor so hard I’m expecting the neighbors to start knocking on their ceiling any minute now.

  “I appreciate that,” I say in earnest as he pulls his hand back.

  I wish he’d kept it there for a minute longer. In its stead, I stand up and put my hands on my hips, giving Henry a scrutinizing look.

  “A big, handsome dog like you has to have some great toys somewhere. Do you want to show me where they are?” I ask him, Henry’s response being to jump up in excitement and then storm off further into the apartment after Mason tells him it’s okay.

  I kick my shoes off and follow Henry, Mason grabbing his lunch and trailing after me. We spend the rest of the lunch hour in Mason’s living room, where I get thoroughly exhausted by Henry, and fall solidly more in love with Mason Roarke.

  Chapter Ten

  Mason

  I trust my dog’s judgment, and even though Henry is a Labrador and loves everyone in the world on sight, I still take it as a good sign about Cassie’s character. Not only that, but she loved him. I find it hard to be a dick to someone who’s bonded with my dog, regardless of whether they are a bratty little bitch through the working day or not.

  In fairness, she hasn’t been. She’s been hardworking and gracious, no longer pouting her lip every time I ask her to do something for me. It’s almost as if she is a real secretary, and not the girl with the crazy battle plan to save her father’s job.

  I’ve kept my distance. A professional distance that has lightened my sense of self-loathing but increased the frenzy of my jerking off every evening. It’s always over her - the thought of being the first in that tight little pussy is enough to drive me insane. Some nights I wonder whether Cassie showed superior insight to me that day in the office when she assured me I would end up fucking her. I’m trying not to. Trying being the operative word here.

  She’s been working for me for over a week. It hasn’t been the easiest start to a new job, either. Plans for this merger have really ramped up over the past few days, and negotiations are reaching their climax. Everything is at stake right now, so when a manager from assembly heads over to tell me of the unrest sweeping through his team in light of the redundancies I’ve been bringing into effect, it’s enough to set me off into a truly terrible frame of mind.

  At the loss of so many of their coworkers, there have been threats of strike action, and an unproductive workforce would be catastrophic to the final pre-merger figures I’m set to deliver just a week or so from now. Everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve these past few months would be in vain without a successful deal on the table. Every sacrifice I’ve made, both personally and professionally, will have been in vain.

  I have no choice but to call an urgent meeting, assembling all my department heads into the boardroom to discuss our plans to quell this uprising before it starts. I have no assurances to give anyone, not at this critical stage, so I have only my team’s good will and expertise to fall back on. Right now, I’m not optimistic that’s enough to see me through this.

  I tell Cassie her notes from this meeting will be important as we head downstairs. She must be able to see the concern in my eyes, as well as the tension in my jaw as I sweep the meeting room doors open to greet the gathered staff, because her pretty face reflects them right back at me. She takes a seat in her usual spot, and I feel her staring all the while I demand morale reports from my department heads. They all reveal similar concerns among their employees, and I’m perplexed as to why they didn’t bring any of this to me sooner.

  Randall shrugs and I know he’s going to voice his opinion. He always does.

  “Cut us some slack, Roarke. We’ve all had a fire under our asses these past few months. We’re downsizing, people are scared for their jobs. They think this whole situation is a bag of dicks, us included.”

  “We need everyone to stay focused,” I snap. “We have quotas we need finished on time.”

  “Yeah, and people are sick of this crap, having to step up and take on the work of their fired coworkers without so much as a thank you.”

  “So give them a thank you,” I say. “Give them whatever it takes to keep output up these next few weeks.”

  Cassie clears her throat, and I look at her along with the rest of my team. Every pair of eyes are fixed on hers.

  “May I make a suggestion?” she asks me, and I wonder what the hell she’s thinking.

  “Go on,” I say, knowing she’s planning on telling me whether I like it or not.

  “I think the workers need to hear it from you,” she tells me. “Sitting in your ivory tower while their friends get fired from jobs they rely on isn’t going to do very well for your business.”

  “I’m not in my ivory tower,” I begin and she frowns.

  “This is your ivory tower,” she insists. “All of you in here, talking about people who are right downstairs. You need to appear more human, like you care.” She can’t hide her own venom and it reminds me so suddenly why she’s here at all.

  “Point taken,” I tell her and turn my attention back to the room. I want to carry on my thread but she’s ruined it. I want to yell at my team to do what I pay them for and sort this crap out for me, but she’s undermined me at the height of my flow and made me look like crap.

  No, she didn’t.

  She made me feel like crap because she has a point. Cassie Newark isn’t just a pretty face. She’s smart. Observant. She’s even a little bit considerate when she isn’t running away with her mouth. She’s a credit to her father when she isn’t being a prize brat, and it’s at least partly this situation with her that has me wound tight enough to explode today.

  I’ve been staring at her for days, watching and wanting but keeping my lust under wraps.

  I’ve been working every hour on the final stages of this merger, with nobody to share it with other than my slobbery dog, and that didn’t matter either, until I met Cassie and realized even a quick salad at lunchtime can soothe my soul if I share it with someone who means something.

  She means something, and that’s the biggest mindfuck of all. It’s almost as though I resent her for it, resent her for coming in here and making me realize how much I’m missing in my
life outside of this place. I’m missing everything.

  I can’t do sadness, not at such a critical stage, so I turn that feeling to pure frustration instead. I dismiss everyone, tell them to fuck off out of here and do their jobs before they end up off the payroll with the others.

  And then I simmer, my fingers rubbing my throbbing temples as I contemplate the crazy I’ve become.

  “Well, that didn’t go so well,” Cassie tells me, like it needs pointing out.

  “You should go too,” I say, but she doesn’t.

  “That’s your answer to everything, huh? Send people away when things gets uncomfortable? Cast people aside like they don’t mean shit to you?”

  “Don’t start with that smart mouth,” I snap and she tuts at me.

  “You need to chill,” she snaps right back and in a heartbeat she’s shunted her chair back from the table and dropped to her knees on the floor.

  “What are you-” I begin, but I’m cut off as her hands land on my thighs and slide up to take a grip of my belt. “Cassie-” I start again, but it’s pointless. Her palm is rubbing my hard dick through my slacks and her fingers are loosening the zipper to free me.

  I close my eyes as her soft tongue laps at me. She’s uncertain, definitely inexperienced, and that only makes my cock pulse all the harder. So tenderly she sucks the head of me between those pretty lips and washes her tongue around the tip. My balls are tight and aching, my fists clenched on the table top to hold back from grabbing her hair and fucking that hot little throat of hers until she gags for me.

  Oh fuck, how I’d love to see her gag for me, her soft pink mouth dripping with spit, eyes watering as she strains to take me.

  “Cassie,” I say again, but my resolve is all gone. “This is so fucking unprofessional…”

  Her grunt tells me she doesn’t give a shit about that, and even with her cock in my mouth she’s a bratty little bitch. She dares to suck me in deeper, and the swollen head of me hits the back of her throat, making her retch and splutter. My balls clench. Fuck, I need to stop this, but I can’t.

  The little bitch has me well and truly under her spell.

  I check my cell to find my meeting with the finance director is due to begin in five minutes, and with jittery fingers I dial her extension.

  “Sandra? The meeting is postponed,” I say. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I hang up before she has a chance to respond, tipping my head back as Cassie’s mouth sucks me hard. Her technique is terrible. She backs off every time she’s getting somewhere. Easing into gentle flicks of her tongue when she should be sucking on that shaft like she’s extracting venom. There’s no rhythm or consistency, and it’s going to take forever to make me shoot my fucking load like this.

  I don’t have forever.

  “Get up,” I tell her, and my resolve is firm this time. She pauses before she acts, and I make my point clear by taking my throbbing dick and shoving it back in my pants before she can change my mind.

  She crawls out from under the table and her lips are beautifully puffy. “What?” she snaps. “Don’t you like the way I suck dick?”

  “No,” I say, just for the hell of it. “You’re shit at sucking dick. You need some practice.”

  She looks as though I’ve slapped her, and I have to fight the urge to laugh. “Well, what do you expect?” she sneers. “I haven’t done it before.”

  I get to my feet and drag her up by her elbow.

  “I expect your pussy will be a lot better,” I snarl. “And I think it’s about fucking time we found out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Cassie

  I stumble toward Mason’s office next to him, he hasn’t let go of my elbow. We pass a couple of people on our way, it’s the middle of the day so there’s not going to be any privacy anywhere, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. Truthfully, it didn’t exactly matter to me either back in the boardroom.

  I can still taste him on my tongue, salty and weird, but I already know I want more. Thoroughly insulted by the fact that he said I don’t know shit about sucking cock, I’m pretty much convinced I want to get more practice. My mind is busy conjuring up images of starting off every day under Mason’s desk when he pushes me into his office, barking something across the floor about everyone needing to get the fuck out.

  I doubt they heard him, if there was anyone really even on the floor at the moment. Most of the people who used to have desks on this floor have either been made redundant or are heads of departments, always cooped up at another meeting somewhere.

  I yank my arm free as he slams the door shut. It doesn’t have a lock on it. I glance at it, knowing he can tell what I’m thinking.

  “What, Cassie? Backing out over an open door?” he taunts me, making me sneer.

  Stubbornly, I meet his gaze and start undoing the first buttons of my white shirt. I’m shaking like a leaf, my lips are swollen from trying to take his cock in my mouth, and my head is woozy, but I’m so fucking pissed and so damn needy for him right now that there’s nothing in the world he could do to drive me away.

  Mason growls, charging me, and he practically lifts me off my feet as he walks me to his desk, my back to it. I scrabble for a hold of him, clinging to his shoulder while at the same time trying to push his jacket off. He does it for me after shoving me up to sit on the cool wooden desk.

  I go for the buttons again.

  “Stop it,” he tells me, but I won’t.

  “Make me.”

  Who is this woman and where did she come from, talking back to Mason Roarke like this and not caring what he’ll do about it? Or, scratch that, I do care about what he’ll do. I just hope it involves his cock and his mouth and his strong hands on me in every possible way.

  He yanks my wrists away from my chest and shoves him to the front of his slacks. I go for his belt and zipper immediately, already knowing the way. His cock strains against my palm and I can’t help but squeeze it through the fabric, making him grunt.

  He leans down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth through the shirt and lacey bra, biting at it and leaving a big wet circle on my shirt with his saliva. My nipple is pink and raw underneath it and I whimper, wanting his mouth back on me.

  “You’re a fucking brat, Cassie,” he growls at me, one hand going into my hair and undoing the bun by pulling a hairpin out and then mussing it so my blonde mane is wild and free again.

  I thought he wanted me to look professional. He’s doing everything but making that happen right about now.

  “Yeah?” I challenge, pushing his slacks and boxers down around his hips and then gripping his cock tight in my small hand.

  My fingers don’t meet.

  He’s never going to fit.

  But I really fucking want him to try.

  “I might be a brat but you’re the man who can’t wait to fill my virgin pussy with your cock. I think that makes us even.”

  The sneer on his lips tells me that he doesn’t exactly agree with me, but I’m not wrong. He yanks my tight skirt up around my hips, almost pulling me off the desk in the process. I’m in black see-through thigh-highs and the sharp intake of breath when he sees that is not lost on me.

  Just to ram the point through, I spread my legs a little, the thong sticking to my wet pussy. I’ve shaved again.

  He doesn’t bother with trying to be nice about it. He doesn’t tease my panties off the way he did the first time, instead he grabs one strap and yanks hard and fast, making the fabric rip and tear right off of me. I gasp, but it turns into a groan, and his hands are on my hips immediately, pulling me toward him.

  I’m shameless, grinding my cunt against him, slicking him with my juices. His face is fucking magnificent, so determined and twisted with rage and lust. I want to kiss him but I don’t dare. It’s not that kind of first time.

  Maybe later.

  I undo the buttons of his dress shirt and push it off him. I’m surprised that he lets me, and he pulls his undershirt off as well. I stare in naked need.
Mr. Roarke is buff. I don’t know how he finds the time for it, but he’s a mountain of carefully carved muscle, strong and unyielding. I feel incredibly tiny next to him all of a sudden.

  Every rational bone in my body should be yelling at me to not do this, to say no. I know he’d stop if I just said no. But I’m not going to.

  “You’ve been a fucking distraction since you walked in here,” Mason growls as I cling to his sides, kissing his chest and inhaling his musky scent.

  I shimmy closer to him, my hips bucking against his, begging him to take me.

  “I think that’s what you hired me for,” I tell him.

  His hand goes to my hair and he yanks my head back, making me look at him. It hurts. I don’t want it to stop.

  “Someone could walk in here right now and find you, spread for me like a needy slut, begging me to fuck your pussy for the first time. You need to think about that, Cassie. Is that what you want?”

  “If it means I’ll have your cock in me, yes, that’s what I want. You’re the one who told me I need to be taught a lesson, so fucking teach it already,” I hiss, feeling tears prick at my eyes.

  If he pulls back now, if he doesn’t fill me up with that monster cock of his, I think I would die. Just fucking keel over. It’s melodramatic and I know it, but I want him. Now.

  He grunts his agreement and guides the head of his cock to my slit. When he pushes against it, it’s like he’s ramming against a wall, I don’t see how it’s ever going to fit. I tense, his arms locking around me, and when he keeps going I bite down on his shoulder.

  There’s a hiss of pain from him but that’s it. When he finally gets the head in, I’m shuddering like hell.

  “Keep going,” I tell him, pleading. “Fucking keep going!”

  This might be the first time Mason Roarke has done something someone else told him to do. With a growl, he kisses my neck, so deep and hard that I know it’ll leave a mark even through the collar of my shirt. He rocks his hips forward and fills me, keeping me in place for him as I whimper against him, struggling to fit him.