Her Alpha Lover: A Draken and Charli Boxed Set

by Richensexi, Amanda

  "It should satisfy," he said, nudging her glasses into place on her nose. "You'll be kind of like the company mascot."

  "That's so incredibly demeaning, I can't believe you even said it. What's so wrong with boyfriends and girlfriends, anyway?"

  "Not happening," he said firmly. "Sex, sex, and only sex. Which is exactly why you'll come. Won't you?"

  "It's got to be against the law. I'll lose my job."

  "Ah, but it's a risk you're willing to take, isn't it? Anything I want, you said..."

  "But why? I mean, couldn't we get a hotel, or...something other than you making me take off my—and doing things in front of—" She cut herself off in frustration. "Is it all really for your staff, Mr. Almatto? To keep them happy? Is that why?"

  She knew why she would agree to it, of course. Because I have to. I can't stop.

  "'Just between us? It's nothing to do with them. It's 'cause it turns my bad girl on." And he smiled and kissed her.

  Charli's Majorly Mortifying Meeting

  by

  Amanda Richensexi

  Chapter 1

  TO: Charli Fontina

  FROM: Draken Almatto

  SUBJECT: Meeting Wednesday 9/14

  Ms. Fontina,

  My assistant Matthew has informed me you will be assisting us during our upcoming meeting on Sep 14. I'm glad to hear that in your capacity as our company mascot you're willing to take on the role of Special Meeting Facilitator for Almatto Tech Sport. Although it's an unconventional role for a PR rep to take, I think we both agree that this will benefit us both and provide some truly exquisite orgasms. I'm looking forward to it.

  Draken Almatto

  CEO, Almatto Tech Sport

  TO: Draken Almatto

  FROM: Charli Fontina

  RE: Meeting September 14

  Hello Draken,

  I object to the word mascot. What exactly am I supposed to do? This is somewhat difficult for me, in case that's not obvious. What happened last week was rather disturbing. I guess you think I behave like that all the time.

  Charli Fontina

  Public Relations Assistant

  GudRelashuns.com

  P.S. When I didn't hear from you all this time, I assumed you had lost interest.

  TO: Charli Fontina

  FROM: Draken Almatto

  RE: Meeting September 14

  Ms. Fontina,

  Oh, I haven't lost interest. Not yet.

  And it's Mr. Almatto to you. I advise you to remember that.

  Regarding your wanton behavior at your presentation...no worries. We understood you were new to making that style of presentation. Your panting eagerness endeared you to everyone. I heard not a word of complaint about your inexperience.

  Indeed, my staff were in awe that such a little thing could turn out to have such magnificent, pendulous breasts—I don't think any of them had seen nipples like yours before. They wondered if they were 100% natural and I assured them they are.

  They were impressed by every facet of you, actually. There are bets going as to which you would enjoy more at a future meeting—riding a dildo bull or having your saucy nipples clamped. I won't tell you how I voted. Suffice it to say, we all liked the extraordinary enthusiasm with which you represented your company. You brightened up Labor Day weekend for all of us.

  As to disturbing...I hope the meeting coming up on Wednesday is even more so. It's my aim to disturb you as much as you do me.

  —DA

  P.S. As usual, I have been following your posts on your social profile. I can't help noticing how tense you've sounded lately. I hope you're trying to get in some relaxing activities. When I banned you from having orgasms, it didn't occur to me it would affect your productivity in your job. That is certainly unfortunate.

  TO: Draken Almatto

  FROM: Charli Fontina

  RE: Meeting September 14

  You know what? I really think you should go fuck yourself, Mr. Almatto.

  —Charli

  TO: Charli Fontina

  CC: Matthew Gallagher

  FROM: Draken Almatto

  RE: Meeting September 14

  Temper, temper, Ms. Fontina. I understand your frustration, but please keep it professional. (About that frustration—have you tried applying cold rags to your pussy? That might calm it down.)

  To answer your concerns, it's basically as we discussed when you were here last week. To recap, your role at the meeting will be:

  Facilitate the meeting according to an agenda. Since this is your first time performing this sort of facilitation, I will guide you step-by-step through the process.

  Discuss the outcomes afterwards with me in a brief interview in my office (about an hour)

  Keep the meeting attendees entertained as per special instructions.

  I believe that is clear, but should you have any additional questions, don't hesitate to ask me or my assistant, whom I have copied here.

  —DA

  TO: Draken Almatto

  FROM: Charli Fontina

  RE: Meeting September 14

  I am giving your suggestion about cold rags the attention it deserves. Zero.

  What specifically do you mean by "special instructions?"

  And no way am I talking to your assistant about this!!! I can't believe you copied him in your last email! Why does he have to be included in these arrangements of yours in the first place?

  —Charli

  TO: Charli Fontina

  CC: Matthew Gallagher

  FROM: Draken Almatto

  RE: Meeting September 14

  Matthew isn't your typical executive assistant. He is, however, utterly discreet and trustworthy and a great help. As are all my staff. I have very exacting standards.

  I assure you, everyone has treated your presentation last week with the utmost confidentiality. All discussion of your nipples and how aroused and wet you were has been limited to the attendees. Not a single tittie pic was taken. Despite great temptation.

  As to why I delegate...as critical as you are, darling, I do have one or two other responsibilities to attend to.

  —DA

  TO: Draken Almatto

  FROM: Charli Fontina

  RE: Meeting September 14

  Well then maybe Matthew can explain to me these "special instructions" which you still haven't elaborated on.

  —Charli

  TO: Charli Fontina

  CC: Matthew Gallagher

  FROM: Draken Almatto

  RE: Meeting September 14

  Ms. Fontina,

  Sorry for the delay in replying. It's the middle of the night in the Philippines after a long day of meetings (meetings without the benefit of a certain blushing hussy to help me blow off steam.)

  As per your request, I have drafted up a company policy regarding your role at Almatto Tech Sport meetings:

  1) Appropriate dress must be worn. This includes wearing no panties. The pussy and legs will be bare. A skirted suit or dress with a hemline at least 5" above the knees will be worn. Shoes will have a minimum of 3" heels. Hair will be neatly styled. Glasses will be worn.

  2) It is expected that until this meeting, you will continue to forgo having an orgasm. Should I suspect you achieved an orgasm outside of Almatto Tech Sport offices, our agreement will be terminated immediately and my assistant will send you a formal notice stating the reasons as to why you won't be allowed back.

  3) Certain items will be supplied by Almatto Tech Sport and used during the meeting. These items are not to be removed from Seven Tech Tower. I have CC'd Matthew so he can make a note to obtain the following items in time for the meeting in two days:

  One extra large dildo-vibrator

  Two hardwood slatted chairs

  Company tablet computer

  4) Please make sure your pussy is neatly trimmed or waxed bare. It should be wet and your clitoris erect throughout the meeting.

  5) All orders and instructions I issue you during the meeting must be obeyed and followed. If
you choose not to comply with them, you will not be invited back. See #2.

  6) You will not touch any of the meeting attendees, including me, during meeting time unless I authorize it. I may touch you without inhibition, naturally. If there is unauthorized contact between you and any other attendee, he will be thrown out of the meeting and you will be disciplined.

  7) During or after the meeting, upon request and at my discretion you may be awarded an orgasm.

  8) As always, nobody attending the meeting will record, share, or otherwise disclose any information about the entertainment portion of the meeting. If containment somehow fails and your reputation and job with GudRelashuns.com are adversely affected, your role as Special Meeting Facilitator for Almatto Tech Sport terminates immediately and I will award you a fair settlement, as determined by our lawyers.

  In plainspeak, Charli—our lips are sealed here at ATS and if you try to screw me over by spilling the dirt yourself, you'll be screwed in court. No offense, but I have to cover my ass.

  I'll be flying back to the States early in the morning, so please contact my assistant with any questions.

  Otherwise...keep your clit perky until I see you,

  —DA

  TO: Draken Almatto

  FROM: Charli Fontina

  RE: Meeting Wednesday September 14

  Wow. Just...wow.

  For some reason I can't fathom right now, it seems I'll be seeing you Wednesday, Mr. Almatto.

  —Charli

  Chapter 2

  "May I help you?"

  "Um," Charli said to the front desk attendant in the lobby of Seven Tech Tower. She leaned forward and lowered her voice so she wouldn't be overheard by the crowds behind her. "I'm here for the meeting with Mr. Almatto at 4:30. I'm not sure which conference room I'm supposed to, uh, be in today. Or even what floor."

  "Your name?" the young man said.

  "Charli Fontina."

  As he checked his list, Charli tugged nervously at the three-quarter-length sleeves of her dress. Lord, the midnight blue garment felt...slinky. Though she had to admit it fit the curves of her petite body like a glove, ending well above her bare knees and tailored with generous darts for the bust. It had arrived yesterday, sent to her apartment by evening courier, and its short skirt, low neckline, and silky fabric would not let her forget for one moment the man who'd sent it to her.

  Draken Almatto. With a brief note: Here's something for tomorrow. It'll show the outline of your ginormous nipples even if you decide to wear one of your granny bras.

  Charli had spent the rest of the night sputtering. Did he actually call your nipples ginormous? Asshole!

  She wasn't going to wear it. She'd vowed not to. But then she had.

  And not with a granny bra this time. She'd dug through her dresser drawers till she'd found the raciest bra she had.

  Foolish of her, she thought now. Because she still had doubts about coming here today. That outrageous last email from Draken had almost caused her to back out. A blush flooded her cheeks just imagining what Draken Almatto's assistant, Matthew, must have thought to receive a copy.

  If that memory alone was enough to make her blush, she knew she was toast. Because it was likely nothing to what was in store for her today...

  "Ah, yes. You'll be going to the thirty-eighth floor, Ms. Fontina."

  "Oh," she said uncertainly. "Is that all the way to the top?"

  "Not quite. It's the executive conference room. This is a meeting of his top executives. If you could hold on a moment, he wants me to let him know when you've arrived." He leaned forward behind the counter and entered something on his keyboard.

  "Oh, I see." Charli couldn't stop herself from blushing again.

  A few minutes later, the man looked up, his expression schooled into blandness. "Ms. Fontina, Mr. Almatto wants me to ask you a few questions. First, are you wearing any panties under that dress?"

  Charli's face flamed. She glanced around to see people in business suits waiting just a few feet away.

  "No," she whispered, clearing her throat.

  "Right. And is—" he broke off, his face going a little pink, and then chuckled and shook his head. "He warned me, but this is pretty wild. I'm supposed to ask you if your clitoris is hard and wet."

  Damn that man to hell and back. It is now, you bastard.

  Charli swallowed and said, "Yes," in a strangled voice.

  "So you, er, haven't had an orgasm since you saw Mr. Almatto last on the Friday prior to Labor Day?"

  No words were currently possible. Charli shook her head.

  "Whew. I guess you're here to entertain for somebody's birthday or something?" the attendant said, grinning slyly.

  She shook her head again. "I—I can't—I'm not a—it's complicated."

  How to tell this man that several days ago, in the midst of an awkward business presentation, she'd been persuaded to put herself on shockingly lurid display for Draken Almatto and his all-male staff? That she'd ended up being fucked by the man across his conference table afterwards? And that this meeting was supposed to be the long-anticipated follow-up?

  How to explain that these kinds of appointments were all she'd been offered by the iconoclastic young billionaire with eclectic sexual tastes who'd sworn he'd never have her as a girlfriend, even though he'd been stalking her on the Internet for over a year?

  That she wasn't always a slut? That she normally didn't do wild monkey sex? That this was a first? That she liked to bake zucchini bread to relax and hadn't had a boyfriend in two years? That Draken Almatto had turned out to be so hot, so lethal, so devastating that she'd thrown her normal life code out the window and now she was turning into a sex junkie?

  How to explain that life would be much easier if she were just a stripper?

  Well, she could, but...

  Nope. Maybe not.

  "Hokay. Well, mum's the word. I'll tell him what you said. Hold on." Charli was appalled to see him bring a phone to his ear. She looked over her shoulder and saw several people watching curiously as they waited in line. Oh, God, could they hear? She knew the curved metal sculptures on the floor and walls were designed to carry sound across the acoustically-enhanced entrance lobby in unpredictable ways. Whoever had furnished this lobby had a sense of humor.

  "Draken," the man said. "Ben Vaughn here down in the lobby. Ms. Fontina just verified that she's not wearing panties, that her, er, pussy is wet and that she hasn't had an orgasm since—since you saw him last, was it?" He glanced up at her inquiringly.

  She nodded, her breath starting to come in quick pants.

  "Yeah. Yeah, she did. She looks cute as hell. Yes, big glasses. Very excited when I asked about her clit. Yeah, they are, as a matter of fact." He was eying, Charli saw, the two bumps of her nipples clearly outlined on the bodice of her dress. "Okay, I'll tell her. No problem." He put the phone down and smiled widely. "Ms. Fontina, you're free to go up. They're waiting for you. The elevators are over toward the Hammond Street entrance. Do you know the way?"

  "Yes," she gritted. I will surely kill that man. First I will let him do whatever he wants with my body. After that, murder.

  "Have a great time," he called warmly.

  She started to storm off, then hesitated. "Sir, aren't you—I mean, aren't you bothered? Annoyed or I don't know, shocked that he made you ask me those things?"

  "By Draken? Shocked by Draken?" The clerk laughed. "After four years, I don't think I'll ever be shocked by anything he does, Ms. Fontina." He smiled. "You do blush a lot, don't you? He said you did."

  And that was her cue to stomp away. Waiting for the elevator, she fixedly watched the indicator lights, her heart pounding in her ribcage as she envisioned what it was going to be like to see Draken again today. All week she'd been thinking about this moment. The things Draken had done had had her drooling between her legs. The things she'd done. Would it be the same? Would he make her...

  "You're here for Draken, aren't you?"

  Charli's eyes widened. She gla
nced around at the milling crowd, but bewilderingly it was Charli the blond woman in the tailored black suit was addressing. "Uh, yeah. How did you...'

  She shrugged. "I've seen your picture on his screen."

  "My picture," Charli echoed stupidly, then blinked. "On his what?"

  "At first I wasn't sure, but when you turned around..."

  "It's the glasses and the freckles," a man in a gray suit put in. "Same girl. Gotta be. Though you look younger in person."

  Charli looked from one to the other. "What screen are you talking about?"

  "His phone. Your pic, Draken's had it on there for, like, months. We all thought you were his girlfriend, but he finally admitted he was just stalking you."

  Charli's eyes closed. "Do you—do you two work with him?" she asked with dread.

  The elevator doors opened and they began filing in.

  "Everyone works with him around here," the woman laughed, then added, "You should be flattered he's using you for wallpaper. He's picky, you know."

  "Not that picky," the guy said. "He probably nails seven girls a week."

  "But does he download them to his mobile?" the women asked, rolling her eyes. "He was engaged once, but that was years ago, before he even owned all this. Way back," she confided, "before he came up with the safety patents that made him megabucks. Now he has a rep for using women who know the score. And you know why." At Charli's blank look, she waved her arm around. "His empire? This building?"