Temptation to Submit

by Jennifer Leeland

  Shit. Tori knew three write-ups in a six-month period led to termination.

  Finch took the papers from her. “Your reason for being late?”

  She could lie. She could say that she woke up late. For a moment, she considered it. Then she realized she couldn’t. Not to Finch. “I don’t have one.”

  He didn’t seem surprised. “I see.”

  She was aware that one write-up was not a tragedy. But she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t have this issue again. Once again, it seemed like her job was on the line and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  “I am going to give you a choice, Ms. Rodgers.” He sat in his desk chair and leaned back. “I won’t write you up, but you will receive a spanking for every minute you’re late.”

  For a moment, she was stunned. “A spanking.” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Suddenly, a spanking was all she wanted from him. No. She couldn’t go there.

  “You’re familiar with the details of that action. It’s part of the fraternization clause in your employee agreement.” His tone was nonchalant.

  “You want me to agree to a Dominant/submissive relationship?” No way. Hadn’t she decided that she was too fragile for this? Hell no. “I can’t.”

  “You can.” He held her gaze. “What is holding you back?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Other than the obvious problem of fucking a coworker? Too many to name.”

  “Okay. Fucking is off the table.” He pulled out his keyboard and started typing. “What else? I’m willing to negotiate.”

  “This is insane,” she muttered.

  “I will add that you wish to remain clothed, no intercourse, and will have a safe word.” He finished typing and printed out the document. “Or would you prefer to take the write-up? I get the impression that you don’t.”

  “That’s blackmail.” She glared at him.

  “Yes, it is.”

  She stared at him. Did he realize she had him by the balls? All she had to do was say yes to his suggestion, and she had him on sexual harassment. “You do remember the sexual harassment policy, right? You spent two hours going over it with me, Nell, and Gina at the conference.”

  “I remember it.”

  “I could crucify you,” she told him. What was he thinking?

  He met her gaze. “I’m making you an offer. If you believe what I’m doing is sexual harassment, then I’ll deal with it.” The chair creaked when he stood up.

  She forced herself to remain still as he stepped closer to her, his face serious. “You may not believe this, but I want you to be able to explore that side of you that you’ve ignored.”

  Right. Sure he did. “You’re so altruistic, so unselfish. What a guy,” she said sarcastically.

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he said softly. “I’ll be hard as a rock. But I’ve made you a promise, in writing. No direct skin-to-skin contact unless you ask me to.”

  “But you’ll touch me.” Finally!

  “I’ll spank you, just as I said.” The heat off him was incredible and tempting.

  “And if I don’t let you spank me, you’ll write me up.” And she’d lose her job.

  “Victoria, you need this.” He stood there, solid, reassuringly constant, and waited for her to decide.

  Just the thought of him spanking her made Tori’s heart flutter and her skin tingle. Why she felt she had to be punished led to feelings she didn’t want to examine at the moment. The fact was, he was offering her an easy out. She had no idea how long this thing with her mom would go on.

  “All right, Finch.” She met his gaze. “I’d rather take the spanking than lose my job.”

  A muscle in his jaw moved. “Are you sure you don’t want to explain why you’re late?”

  She couldn’t tell what he was thinking from his face or his voice. “No, I don’t. I’ll take the spanking.”

  His lips tightened. “As you wish. Read and sign.” He placed a contract in front of her.

  “What is this?” She studied it. It was an agreement stating her terms and his. Her responsibilities were clear. She was to accept his punishment at any time he believed she’d committed an infraction. Then there was a list of infractions.

  She swallowed. This was it. Once she signed this, she was in a “Dominant/submissive relationship.” Why wasn’t she running like hell? She closed her eyes. Because she wanted this. And she wanted it with him.

  When she’d met him, there’d been an instant connection, a spark. And then, Gina told her that Finch was a Master complete with his own damn personalized paddle for submissives who misbehaved. It had fired her imagination, fueled her fantasies, and made her horny as hell. No one else did that to her. Only him.

  After all, Finch wasn’t the only ConFed executive Gina had mentioned. But he was the only one Tori couldn’t get out of her head. No matter what she said out loud, in her heart, she knew Finch was offering her something she wanted. Maybe even needed.

  She took a deep breath and picked a pen up off the desk. As she signed her name, the bands around her chest loosened. She could stop fighting it now.

  He took the papers and said, “Bend over the desk.”

  She licked her lips. “Now?”

  “Now.”

  She bent over the desk, the border of his blotter pressed into her just below her breasts. Instinctively, she put her hands over her ass, as if to protect herself. Finch used his left hand to shackle her wrists and slid them up to the small of her back. The restraint made her wet, and she shifted to move her aching pussy against the edge of the desk.

  “Hold still,” Finch ordered.

  Her breath was short already, and he’d barely touched her. She dropped her head to the surface of the desk and groaned. Just the act of bending over had made her so needy, so damn vulnerable. How had he known?

  Gina had once said that with the right Dominant, a submissive could drop out of reality in a heartbeat with just a word or a touch. Now Tori understood what she meant as Finch took control and prepared her for her spanking. There was no room for embarrassment or fear, her body anticipating what her mind struggled to accept.

  “Give me a safe word, Victoria,” he demanded.

  Her mind was already checked out. It was difficult to focus. But she made herself say something. “Peanut butter.” That was something that would get his attention if she screamed it. Of course, the minute she said it, she felt stupid.

  He didn’t even laugh. “Peanut butter it is.”

  When his palm struck her ass, she was stunned at how hard he’d smacked her. Through the material of her skirt, she felt the heat of his hand. He didn’t hold back, making her ass throb from the stinging slaps. He alternated between her two ass cheeks until her entire bottom was on fire. How many minutes had she been late? Did it matter?

  She realized it didn’t matter. If he chose to give her a hundred, she’d take them. And not because she was afraid of losing her job. The sting of his strikes did something strange. It unlocked her muscles, releasing her tightly held barriers and opening her up. The emotions that had been contained inside her were set free.

  She couldn’t cry, unable to release the grief and fear that overwhelmed her. But she could snarl and curse. She curled and uncurled her fists in time to her increased heartbeat. But it felt good, safe, cathartic. She wasn’t just taking punishment; she was anticipating Finch’s hand, begging for more. And he gave it to her, even as she struggled against his hold and growled at him.

  When he stopped, she shuddered, unable to stop shaking. Every nerve was exposed; every throb of blood through her veins roared in her ears.

  She was a mess.

  He wrapped his right arm around her waist, lifted her away from the desk, and turned her into his arms. He pressed her head into the crook of his shoulder and held her there until she stopped shaking.

  Floating, she laid her cheek against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. There was nothing inappropriate about the way he held her, but it still had a
sexual flavor to it. He said no words, but the warmth of his arms and the way he allowed no space between them made her heart clench.

  But she couldn’t let herself fall into this. He’d spanked her. It was just kinky shit, not anything more. Hadn’t she been worried about releasing all this emotion? Well, she’d been right. All he’d done was spank the crap out of her, and she was an emotional basket case.

  As she eased away from him, she tried to hide her face, but he wouldn’t let her. He gripped her chin and tipped her head up. “Good girl,” he said.

  Something warm spread across her chest and loosened the tightness in her throat. She’d done it right. She shook her head. Where had that thought come from?

  “I need to repair my face,” she said and cursed herself for sounding breathless.

  “First you need to thank me, Victoria.” His tone was stern. God help her, it made her heartbeat faster and her pussy clench.

  She knew how to do this. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He nodded and dropped his hands, allowing her to escape.

  THOUGH ATTICUS HAD known what he was getting into, Victoria’s response had destroyed him. She was wound so tightly that when she let go, it was like a damn tornado. Normally, with a fragile sub like this, he’d have held her, fucked her if she needed it. But Victoria had immediately shut him out, backing away, building that damn wall between them.

  When she left his office, he waited two minutes before he followed her. She disappeared down the hall and into the executive bathroom that had an outer door and an inner door. He was able to slip through the outer door to make sure she was all right.

  He’d ripped away some of her shields, and he didn’t want to leave her mired in the shit he’d uncovered. If she was in that bathroom sobbing, he’d tear the door off the hinges and make her accept his aftercare.

  That wasn’t what he heard.

  She moaned his name. Her tone was desperate, but not broken with tears. Shit. She was touching herself. He could picture her, leaning against the vanity, or maybe pressed against the wall. Through the door to the inner bathroom, he could hear her gasping breath. He breathed with her as she groaned, spiraling toward her release. He placed his hand on the door, wishing he could be there, watching her, spurring her on. Did she knead her breasts as she stroked her cunt? Did she use her thumb to slide over her clit as she thrust two fingers into her sweet, wet pussy? He heard her breath catch and her broken sigh, mixed with the sound of frantic movements, signaling her climax.

  He closed his eyes and let the sounds wash over him. She’d masturbated to a fantasy about him, and he wanted to make every one of them come true. His cock strained against his pants, and he fought the desire to slam into the bathroom, lock the door behind him, and fuck her until she came for him and only him. He snapped away from the door as he realized she was finished and barely exited the outer door before he heard the inner one open.

  No, it wasn’t a lover who was causing the pain. He knew Victoria well enough to know that if there’d been a man in her life, even one she no longer loved, she would not have allowed Atticus to spank her.

  He left the door to his office open and watched as she returned. She immediately went to work, catching up on the reports she’d missed the day before. He’d been right. She just needed to focus, and the spanking had done that.

  It would be easy to find out what was really going on with Victoria. He had investigators he could call. Hell, he could put Dimitri on it, and he’d find out. But Atticus wanted her to tell him, to trust him enough with her secrets.

  Of course, at the moment, he was just hoping she’d be late every damn day.

  * * * *

  No one was more surprised than Atticus when his secretary was late for the next three successive days. Whatever Victoria was hiding, she was unwilling to share it and willing to take punishment for it.

  That Friday, she came into the office so agitated he thought she looked like she was going to puke. He was going to go easy, let her off the hook from her morning spanking, until he noticed what she wore.

  Victoria usually wore very appropriate business wear—suits made for her curves—in modest colors. No reds or bright pinks were in her wardrobe. Occasionally she wore pants, but they were always tailored and fit her perfectly.

  Today she was wearing a loose short skirt. It was light green, and the hem stopped just below her knee. It was a soft, thin material that gave a small hint of her underwear beneath. Her blouse, however, was formfitting, curving in at the waist. It was black and the same material as her skirt.

  “Forty minutes late today.” He watched her face. She wasn’t afraid or resigned. The minute he spoke, she relaxed.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Paulus.”

  “Do you need more punishment?” he asked. “What have I told you to call me?”

  “I’m not calling you that,” she snapped.

  He loved it when she mouthed off to him. It meant she was going to struggle more, curse at him, and then cling tighter when he held her afterward. “Why not, brat?” He was amused to see her reaction to his nickname for her.

  “It sounds ridiculous,” she muttered and then glared at him. “And you like it too much.”

  “I think you like it.” He stepped back and waved his hand toward his office. “Now, Ms. Rodgers.”

  She strode toward the door and stopped just before entering. She turned her head to stare at the floor to her left and gave him a sidelong glance. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Sir. Say it, Victoria.”

  He almost laughed when snapped her head around, her eyes narrowed. “May I ask you a question, Sir?” She bit out the last word.

  “You may. But hurry up. I’m impatient to discipline you,” he said sternly.

  “Did you mean it? About the kidnapping fantasy? Would you?” She stood in the doorway, her head turned away, her gaze on the ground. She resembled a bird, startled and frightened, about to take flight.

  “Would you like me to draw up a contract? Written rules for the scene like I did for our morning spankings?” His cock filled and strained in his slacks. She was going to kill him.

  He heard her swallow. “Yes.” She took a step into the office and stopped. Then she said, “I do like calling you Sir, but it makes me feel weird.”

  Quid pro quo. “I do like it too much,” he admitted. “But I won’t break our agreement.”

  She turned to face him. “Even if I ask you to?”

  “Are you?” Jesus, she could test a saint.

  There was something desperate in her expression that tore at his heart. “Damn it,” he muttered and shoved her farther into his office and shut the door. “What do you want, Victoria?”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath and met his gaze. “Will you spank me without my underwear?”

  His cock jerked in his pants. “I can do that. In return, I request a favor.”

  Her eyelids drooped, as if to protect herself. “I’m listening.”

  “I want to make you come.” He watched her face and saw the longing and the surprise.

  She nodded. “In that case, I would like to add one more item to the agenda.”

  Little smart-ass. “I’m listening.”

  His heart rate accelerated as she stepped closer to him, not quite touching him, but near enough to feel her heat. Her voice was low and hoarse. “Will you come on me when you’re done spanking me?”

  Her face flooded with color, and he noted that she dropped her gaze to the floor when she asked. He lifted her face and let her see his. “I want to make sure I understand you, Victoria. You want me to spank you per our previous agreement, but on your bare skin, make you have an orgasm as per my request, and then release my seed on your ass.”

  “Yes.” She sighed the word, and he almost lost control.

  But he hung on and lifted an eyebrow until she said, “Yes, Sir.”

  “Agreed.” He gripped her arm and bent her over his desk. Fuck, she was the most perfect submissive like this. Her ass
was round and full, spankable. Her feet spread, and her hair drifted over the wood of the desk.

  He lifted her skirt and fingered the soft material of her panties. They were silky and white and slid easily down her thighs. She stepped out of them, and he picked them up. “I don’t know if you’re going to get these back,” he told her.

  “Finch—” she protested but broke off when his hand connected with her flesh.

  There was nothing better than the feel of her skin on his palm. The heat, the softness, the way it moved all worked on him. His cock was so hard, he found it difficult to restrain himself. He alternated between each cheek, some hard, some soft. He’d stop after two or three and grip the flesh of her ass, loving the feel of her. She squirmed and moaned.

  With the permission to touch, he stopped after twenty smacks and slid his finger over the damp entrance to her sweet pussy. She let out a harsh breath and started to cover herself with her hands.

  He whacked her hard. “Behave.”

  She snarled at him, and he gave her a feral smile. He had grown to love her defiance. He captured her hands and gripped her wrists tight. “You hold those here, or I’ll stop right now.”

  “No, please.” Her whole body shook as she clasped her own wrists, effectively binding herself.

  He smacked her five more times and then leaned down to lick the heated flesh. She groaned and arched back to increase the pressure. He spared her nothing, and the last fifteen were hard and fast.

  As he struck her butt on the last strike, he wrapped on arm around her waist and lifted her against him. She arched back and slammed her head into his shoulder. When one of her hands wandered to his aching cock and stroked it through his pants, he growled at her and moved her tempting fingers away. “Bad girl. Lift your arms and clasp your fingers together.”

  She obeyed him, and he did what he’d wanted to do for weeks. He cupped her beautiful breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers. She jerked in his arms. He pulled on her tits, using the material of her blouse to create more friction.

  Her hips thrust back when he bit her shoulder. “Hold still.”