When she clasped her hands behind her back, he leaned forward and flicked open the buttons of her blouse at her throat. Then he yanked on the rubber bands that held her hair and flicked through the braids until her hair cascaded down her back.
Out of his briefcase, he removed a medium-size bullet vibrator with a wireless control. He lifted her skirt and pulled off her underwear. When his fingers pressed on her clit, she rotated her hips, helpless under his domination.
He slid the bullet vibrator inside her pussy and flicked the control to an agonizing setting that kept her near the edge but not enough to take her over. Her nipples beaded, and she began to sweat from the effort of holding back an orgasm and not whimpering her need.
Without another word, he opened his laptop and began to work.
She gasped for breath, the vibrator rocking against the walls of her pussy and her clit aching for his touch. To keep her hands away from her greedy nub, she gripped her own wrists hard, straining against her own restraint.
Even at the low setting, she could feel the wave of pleasure building and started to pant. It was the strangest sensation. So close, it was almost painful to hold back. Yet she loved obeying him, letting him control it all, being back in that place of nothingness.
She relaxed and let the vibrations flow through her, slowed her breathing, lived second to second.
Time had no meaning. She was only aware of the pulses from the bullet inside her controlled by his hand. All she had to do was surrender to him, and she would be in heaven. She let the sensations roll over her and trembled. When the vibrations suddenly increased, she tensed, fighting her lust, wanting to come, wanting to obey, the tug-of-war keeping her edgy.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered, his voice tight.
When she met his gaze, she almost lost her hold on her tenuous control. Fuck, he looked like he wanted to eat her all up. “I can’t—”
His smile was wolfish. “No, you can’t.” He changed the control setting, and the bullet went at high speed.
Her back bowed, and she couldn’t stop her response. “Please, Sir.”
“Who is in control, Anelda?”
“You are, Sir.”
“And if I make you come before I tell you to come, then you have to come.” His stare was hot and sexy.
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir!” Her hips rocked, and she fought to keep her hands behind her back. She wished he’d bound her to keep her from touching herself.
“What do you want? Do you want to come?”
“Yes yes yes,” she chanted.
The vibrations backed off, and she sobbed in protest. But he was implacable. “I’ll give you a choice, Anelda, but choose wisely.”
Punishment was implied, and he’d said the possibility of it would clear her mind. He was right. He dipped his hand down her shirt and cupped her aching breast. “I’ll make you come with the vibrator, or I’ll fuck you in the ass.”
He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and she jerked against his touch. As she considered her choices, she thought about how sweetly he’d made love to her that morning, how he’d cradled her in his arms, not like a Dominant but like a lover.
What would please him? The answer was clear. He wanted her ass. That choice hadn’t promised an orgasm for her. Only that he’d fuck her in the butt. But it would make him happy; it was what he wanted.
And she realized that was what she wanted. It made no sense. To please herself, she wanted to please him.
“My choice—” She gasped as his hand changed from squeezing her nipple to palming her breast. “Sir, would you fuck me…” She couldn’t say it. The words were there, but…it was so unlike her. “Would you fuck me in the ass?”
His hand on her breast froze. Silence. Had she said it wrong? Had she surprised him? She sneaked a glance at his face. There was a strange expression on his face, as if he’d been given something precious he didn’t want to break.
He reached down and gripped her upper arms to raise her to her feet. The vibrator continued to keep her on edge. When he stood up, she had to resist the urge to grind her cunt against his leg, to come and come hard.
But she’d made her choice, and she was going to stick to it.
She trembled when he pressed her face into the seat he’d just vacated, as he lifted her skirt and rubbed his cock against her ass. He captured her hands and moved them to cup her breasts, mashing her fingers into the cushion.
When his fingers slid along her slit, feeling the wetness there, she groaned, the agony and need almost too much. He dipped two fingers inside and dragged his soaked hand to her ass. He used her cum to lube her tight hole, and she thrust back to help him.
The sound of his zipper seemed loud before he pressed against her. When his dick probed her puckered hole, she squirmed to capture his length inside her. He leaned over her, his cock halfway in her ass, and gripped her right hand, moving it from her breast to her aching clit.
It was his fingers guiding hers that sent her screaming toward release. “Sir, I’m going to come hard! Please!”
His words were guttural and harsh. “You’d better fucking come hard. I want to hear it. I want you to scream loud. I’m going to unleash a load in your ass that will make you wet for the entire trip.”
The friction of their combined fingers and the sensation of his cock thrusting in her ass sent her into the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. He’d told her to scream. She yelled, lifting her head away from the chair, driving him deeper. It went on and on—the vibrations from the bullet, the rubbing of his hand on her cunt, and the pounding of his dick in her ass—and she kept clenching and rolling, the pleasure more than she could stand. The bullet in her pussy fell out because of the force of her orgasm and hit the floor. She didn’t care.
“That’s right, Anelda. Scream. I want you to fucking scream.”
She was hoarse, and her throat was sore, but she screamed again when he clasped his other hand over her left tit. He continued to rub her clit, and she went crazy under him as he fucked her hard.
When his hand crushed hers, she thrust back, taking more of him; his balls slapped against her flesh. He growled, and she felt the warm gush of his release fill her. She dropped over the edge again.
There was no more pain, no more anxiety about anything. She was safe, held tightly by this man. For the first time in her life, she felt totally protected. She’d never realized how closed off she’d been, how alone she’d believed herself to be until this moment.
He had released his grip on her hand in the throes of his orgasm. She reached back to touch his hair. He pressed his lips to her neck, and she had the absurd desire to cry. It was crazy. He’d fucked her in the most basic, dirty way, and yet she felt cherished and wanted. It didn’t seem like this was just fucking, just getting off.
His hands were gentle where he’d been rough, stroking her, holding her. How long they stayed like that, she didn’t know. She jumped when the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom.
“They’re ready for us, Mr. Conners.”
He cursed and released her slowly. “Don’t clean yourself, Anelda. I want you to smell like me for the whole plane ride.”
She didn’t think her face could get any hotter, and she knew her cheeks were a bright crimson. “Yes, Sir.”
“Sit here,” he ordered as he pointed to the chair where she’d just had her face buried. “I want you next to me.”
He reached down and picked up the vibrator that had fallen out of her pussy onto the floor along with her discarded panties and put them in her hand. “Wash that when we’re up in the air.”
“Yes, Sir.” She was stunned, bemused. Her ass was sore, and her pussy throbbed from the workout he’d given her. There were no words she could form that wouldn’t sound completely nuts, so she said very little.
She was aware that he watched her as she sat down and buckled up. Was he worried that she was going to freak out? That wasn’t what concerned her. What dominated her mind and made her tremble insi
de was the realization that she cared about this man. In three days, he’d won over more than just her body, and she was well aware of the danger that placed her in.
Did he know how transparent she felt? How vulnerable she felt? Certainly anal sex was nothing new to him, but for her—fuck. She hadn’t wanted to reveal so much, yet she had.
The plane’s gentle ascent made little impression on her, and as soon as the pilot announced they could get up, she was unbuckled and out of her seat. She headed for the bathroom and hoped she could get herself under control.
* * * *
As Nell hurried away, Mark watched her, and his jaw clenched. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to be so demanding. And he needed to remind her about her safe word again. She’d been so open, so passionate, so amazing, and then she’d shut down so quickly. Those defenses of hers were strong.
Why the hell did he keep trying to get past them?
No other woman had inspired this intense need to smash through her emotional walls and possess her. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t really know Nell, that the information he had on her was incomplete. What he’d found out about her was in black-and-white. He, of all people, knew intimately how that had nothing to do with the flesh-and-blood reality.
He had his own secrets, yet he wanted none with her. Every “yes, Sir” that came out of her mouth bound him deeper to her, and she didn’t even have a clue.
When he glanced down, he noted she’d hurried to the bathroom, but she hadn’t taken the vibrator. So she had run away. She probably wanted to compose herself, talk herself into that fucking mask she wore to hide from him.
He unbuckled his seat belt and swept up the vibrator. When he knocked on the door of the bathroom, he expected her to fling open the door, composed and serene.
Instead, her voice sounded so small and fragile. “Yes, Sir?”
She sounded like she’d been crying. It tore at his heart and made his stomach clench. He cleared his throat and managed to speak in a stern tone. “You forgot the vibrator.”
The silence that followed seemed to go on forever. Then she opened the door and put out her hand, staying hidden so he couldn’t see her.
Instead of handing her the toy, he hauled her out of the bathroom and to the nearest seat. He sat her in his lap and tipped her chin so he could see her expression. “Nell, talk to me,” he said softly.
Tears welled in her sweet brown eyes. “I’m so stupid.”
No three words could have shocked him more. He stared at her, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Nell, look at me,” he said, and she finally met his stare. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that about yourself again. Tell me what’s wrong.”
One tear fell, and she impatiently wiped it away. “You don’t even know me. I don’t know you. And I feel…I want…” Her nostrils flared, and she tried to escape his hold. “Let me go. Please.”
“Nell, it’s okay,” he said, trying to be soothing and not show the arrogant pleasure he felt from her words. “What we’re doing? It speeds things up, makes it all more intimate. It drops walls quicker and can confuse you.” Hell, he’d only seen it happen, not experienced it. Most of his submissives had been guarded with him, and he had never wanted to possess a sub this much. Even though he sounded confident, he was in unfamiliar territory too.
“I don’t know what to do, Sir.” Her lips trembled, and Mark was completely flummoxed. He’d known the perfect secretary hid a passionate, kinky woman. He hadn’t realized how loving and lonely she had been. Or how direct she would be. He let her duck her head to hide in the crook of his neck as he tried to get a handle on his own emotions.
She was an inexperienced submissive, but in the midst of his passion, he’d forgotten some of the basics. It was easy to forget since Nell was a natural, instinctively satisfying his every need.
He sighed. “It’s my job to take care of you, Nell. I’ve done a piss-poor job.”
Her head snapped up, and she blinked. “What?”
What a fool he’d been. Yes, he’d been right about Nell’s submissive nature, her passionate side, but he’d completely missed the one thing that might hurt her the most. The perfect secretary always had to be perfect. He’d removed her confidence, her belief in herself. He wasn’t the kind of Dom to reward with anything except sexual pleasure. There was no measuring stick for this kind of thing, and Nell was the type of submissive who would need some reassurance of her value. She enjoyed being stripped of her control, but he hadn’t done enough to remind her that she held the power.
“You are still you, Nell,” he told her. “This is a part of you, the part that gives to me. You are still Nell Armstrong, confidential secretary with the razor-sharp wit and the fearsome reputation. All of that is still there.”
“But look at me,” she wailed. “I do not cry. I do not beg men to fuck me in the ass. And I do not hide in bathrooms,” she shouted.
He tried to contain it, but he couldn’t. He started to laugh and tried to muffle the sound. But she caught his smile and glared at him. And then, her lips twitched, and finally, she started to giggle.
She relaxed when he wrapped his arms around her and held her, the mirth passing into something sweeter and quieter. After a few blissful minutes, he said, “Nell, I wasn’t paying careful enough attention. I’m a Dominant, and usually that means I recognize emotional overload in my submissive. But I’m also a guy. And that means I forget the emotional part and focus on the physical part.” He stroked her hair. “I can’t help it that you’re fucking sexy and beautiful.”
The stillness in her body made his heart cry out for her. Hadn’t anyone told her that? It made him desire to seek out and beat the living shit out of the men who had been with her before. They were idiots who had never given this stunning woman the attention she deserved.
Finally, she leaned back and looked at him. “Really?”
He shifted in the seat so her ass rubbed against his aching cock. “What do you think?”
She pressed her lips together, but her eyes twinkled. “I think you’d better focus on the emotional part.”
He let out a burst of laughter and held her tighter. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. They sat like that for much of the plane ride, occasionally talking about little, inconsequential things that couples talk about.
It was the most peaceful he’d been in his life. And she’d made him feel that way. As freaked out as she was about ass fucking, crying, and hiding in bathrooms, Mark was scared to death about how vital this woman had become.
Chapter Eight
Somehow, the question of whether or not Nell would be Mark’s secretary/ submissive never came up. The following week in Los Angeles was frenetic and demanding for both of them.
His job as the CEO of ConFed meant research and profiling company portfolios for investors and crunching numbers for the board meetings. Mark had been neck-deep in Sunsoon’s books since it was his job to determine what divisions had been leaking money.
When they’d started the process of taking over Sunsoon, Mark had already known there was a problem in the company. Hell, it had been the catalyst for his success. Now, he wanted to find the hole and plug it up. If that meant firing some people, then so be it.
It hadn’t surprised him that the marketing department, headed by Reena Barrett, was in shipshape. It also hadn’t surprised him that the human resource department headed by Anelda’s boss, Ernest Dover, had been in order.
The company had created some of the most unique security software in the business, and their own security had posed a problem for him. But he’d been able to discover the soft, white underbelly of the company: its financial spending.
Studying the books, Mark discovered the spending had been in hardware. Personnel, handled by Nell’s office, was often the issue with struggling companies, but this time, it seemed that someone was spending a lot of money, going over budget again and again. He found confidential memos that stated the concerns. Yet the money kept going ou
t.
Why?
“Nell, would you come in here please?” He flicked off the intercom and frowned at the file in front of him.
Twelve names were on the purchase orders, but there was no paper or electronic trail to follow where the hardware was used. Was it being sold? Wasted?
“Yes, sir.” Ah, Nell was back to the perfect secretary. It was after five on Friday night, and she looked as fresh as she had at eight o’clock that morning when she’d brought him coffee.
“What can you tell me about these twelve people?” He handed her the handwritten list he’d compiled.
It was fascinating to study her as she focused inward, accessing her memory. “Four of them quit shortly before rumors of the takeover began,” she answered. “Two of them requested transfers to a different office. The other six are still here.” She cocked her head to the side. “Why? Is this the chop list?”
“In a way.” He tightened his lips. Nell had proven herself invaluable, but he wasn’t sure where her loyalties were. That she was submissive to him, even cared about him was clear, but if it came down to the people she’d worked with for years and the boss who had raided the company, would she choose them?
She bit her lip. “We’ve talked a lot about the different departments of this branch,” she said slowly. “I’ve told you everything I know. I will tell you that Yarina Tourine, the head of the software development department, is the daughter of Victor Tourine.” She gave him a solemn glance. “You know who he is.”
Victor Tourine. He was the power behind Sunsoon, the man who had wanted to scuttle the company rather than let ConFed take it. Even as Nell had been doing interviews to try and save the company, rumors leaked out of software glitches, faulty coding, and the money problems. The stock tumbled, and Tourine had tried to buy more stock to stop ConFed’s takeover.
But Mark had been quicker. He and Tony had snapped up the stock and waited until Tourine overreached himself. When the older man gave up, Mark and Tony split the stocks and doled out small percentages as rewards. But the bulk still belonged to the two of them.
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