“Madam?” Our poor waiter is looking rather pained as he hovers with her hot plate in his hand.
“Take it back to the kitchen,” Elizabeth commands, without looking at it. This would be a mistake, and thus forth, I feel I have to mention the fact.
Shaking my head at our poor waiter, I say, “Do not take it back. Just place it down in front of her.” He looks at me in disbelief. There’s Elizabeth with a face like thunder, and there’s me, all cool, calm and collected. It’s going to be interesting to see whose advice he will follow.
“Maybe I should come back later,” he says, hesitating. At the minute Elizabeth looks like she might throw the plate back at him, so I can see why he’s a little reticent to obey me.
“Just put the plate down,” I repeat. “I wear the trousers in this relationship and if she doesn’t like it, she can always leave.”
I turn to face her. “So, what’s it to be, Elizabeth? Are you going home early this evening?” It’s time to find out just how much my boss wants to sleep with me.
Elizabeth glares at me. “Seriously? You didn’t have enough fun with the snails?” She is absolutely furious, and if we weren’t in a restaurant full of people, I’d fuck her up against the wall right now.
“Seriously, my getting nearly killed by Leader wasn’t enough for you?” It’s only fair she gets some back. I am not looking forward to another dance with Ms Leader, but if it’s the only way I can get some information on James, then I don’t have much of a choice.
“Take it back,” Elizabeth demands once again, and this time the waiter shrugs his shoulders and turns around to leave.
“Take the plate, or so help me god, I will spank the living daylights out of your ass this evening, in front of everyone here, Sharkey. I will also hand in my resignation first thing in the morning and it will be the last you’ll see of me.” That’s an outright lie. I need that info, but she doesn’t know that. Maybe I have other sources elsewhere. It’s possible. Anyway, I’ve spread the seed of doubt.
There is a pause that’s as long as an elephant’s fart. “If I take that plate, you’ll be eating it for me,” she eventually grits out. That’s good enough for me.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I say, as the waiter somehow manages to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he’s finally allowed to place the heavy plate in front of her. He then rushes off to the safety of the kitchen before she can change her mind.
In front of us are now two plates of the most amazing steak known to man. It smells incredible. It’s accompanied by some fondant potato and spring greens. On the side is a little ramekin of bearnaise sauce. I am officially in heaven.
Elizabeth looks at her plate suspiciously, as if hardly daring to believe that I am not going to make her eat something nauseating.
“This isn’t anything to do with frogs, is it?” She pokes at it with her fork, as if to make sure it’s not about to suddenly jump off the plate and go ‘ribbit.’
“Not unless frogs go ‘moo’ and like eating grass.” I’m already slicing my steak up. It is pink in the middle, just how I like it, and it melts like butter on the edge of my knife. If Elizabeth wants to let me eat hers, I’ll give it my best shot.
“Thank God,” she says. “I won’t have to have you assassinated tomorrow morning after all.”
“Ha!” I say, through a mouthful of some of the best beef I have ever tasted. “Tomorrow morning you won’t even be able to remember your own name, let alone mine.”
“You’re not that good, Adrien,” she purrs.
She’s wrong. I am that good, and a whole lot more she can’t even begin to fucking imagine.
Adie
We do not order dessert. Elizabeth doesn’t even manage to finish her glass of champagne before we decide that we need to take this elsewhere.
While we’ve been savoring our steak, Elizabeth has been giving me come-to-bed eyes, while biting and licking her lips as often as she can. I, in return, have been eating her alive with my eyes, thinking about all the depraved things I am about to do to her as soon as I get her back to my place. It will have to be my place, too, because she won’t have all the things that I need at hers.
Is this the point where I admit I’ve had this fantasy for a while? The one where I get to dominate the boss, knock her down a peg or two, and have her utterly at my mercy? I am so excited. This is my chance to get even. All those snotty looks she gives me when I come in ten minutes late are going to be a thing of the past. Those derisive comments when I fail to catch the bad guy will disappear overnight. Once I have her in my thrall, she will do every last damn thing I tell her to or face the consequences. I have to admit, I’m quite excited by the prospect.
This is like me getting my wicked way with a traffic warden who has just issued me with a ticket. I can torment her mercilessly and ruthlessly. I’ll need to be a little careful with what I dish out initially, but we can work up to the good stuff. I wonder if she likes pain? I don’t care much either way, but she might. I’ll find out in an hour or two’s time.
“Are you wearing panties, Elizabeth?” If she is, we need to sort that problem out right now.
Elizabeth flicks her finger in the direction of our host to get the bill. She is well aware of where this is heading.
“Adrien, are you going to be naughty?” She gives me a lascivious grin. Yep, she knows.
I sigh. I do not want smiles. I want obedience. I am aware that this takes time, though. A well-trained slave doesn’t just appear miraculously overnight.
“Do you want to be sexually harassed or not? Answer the question, Elizabeth.” I raise my eyebrows up in challenge.
“Yes, I am wearing panties,” she breathes. “Is that a problem?”
It is if I want to fuck her up against the back of my car in the nearest layby, twenty miles down the road. By that time, I won’t want any obstacles in my way, so we need to get rid of them now.
“Take them off,” I order slowly, with the sternest look I can summon. I can reduce to women to tears with no more than a look, but Elizabeth is currently unaware of the consequences of disobedience, so she won’t immediately rush to obey. In a week’s time, however, all this will change. In one week, I will have remodeled this woman into something quite different. The confidence she has so readily displayed this evening will be knocked out of her, but the rewards of being a good girl will be worth it. She will come into the office with a glow that will resemble a supernova, if she pleases me, and I think she will. If she doesn’t, she will be replaced – simple as that.
“Now?” Elizabeth looks around at all the other diners, as if they are already aware of the panty conspiracy. I resist the urge to laugh. I’d forgotten how much fun this can be.
“It won’t be of much use tomorrow, Elizabeth. Tomorrow you will be in my bed, completely naked, and so exhausted you won’t even be able to feed yourself. So be a good girl and go do as you’re told.”
“Are you as naughty as they say you are?” Elizabeth looks at me from behind lowered lashes. It’s the first look of the evening I actually appreciate. It is almost shy, a little curious, and a whole lot aroused.
“You can’t even begin to imagine how naughty that is, Elizabeth, so don’t even try. All you have to do is obey me, and I will take care of the rest. So get those panties off,” I remind her, “and be quick about it.”
Her first mistake of the evening is made almost immediately. She stands up, a little unsteady on her towering heels, and grabs her bag. If she thinks I’m going to let her go to the restroom to accomplish her task, however, she is much mistaken.
“No, poppet. You do it here.” This is for two reasons. The first is to see if she’s willing to go the distance, and the second is so that I can watch. If she bails at the first hurdle, we were never going anywhere, anyway.
Elizabeth drops back into her seat as if the roof has fallen in above her. “You can’t be serious,” she whispers. There is a delicate rose blush forming on her cheeks and it’s very becoming. I d
ecide then and there that I’m going to make her blush lots.
“Oh, I am deadly serious. If you can’t manage this, there’s no way you’ll be able to handle me – and this is tame by my standards – extremely tame.” She might as well know what she’s letting herself in for. Mind you, she must have heard the rumors around the office. I’ve slept with one or two of the girls now, and gossip travels. I’d be surprised if she hasn’t heard blow by blow details of my exploits, but then again, she’s the boss. The girls might be reluctant to spill the details to our main player.
“If this is tame, what the hell is extreme?” she asks, almost in awe. I like that look, too. It involves her mouth in a big, round ‘O’ and I know just what to do with mouths like that.
“You don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.
She breathes out a big sigh as she contemplates what she’s about to. It’s risk versus reward. At the moment, she’s not sure if she wants to trade our status quo, and I can understand her reticence. It’s her choice, though. I sure as hell aren’t going to make it for her.
Elizabeth looks up in the air, and then down at the floor. She then mutters under her breath and I’d pay dearly to have heard what those words were. Never mind. I’ll get them out of her later.
“This had better be worth it,” she says eventually, as her hands dip below the table. Hooray. It’s official. We’re on.
“It’ll be worth it, but it won’t be easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is,” I say enigmatically. Let her make what she will of that. Sex with me is never easy. It is many things, but easy it not one of them.
“Thank God I’m wearing a skirt,” she mutters, as she rocks slightly from side to side, freeing the fabric so she can raise it up over her backside. The blush upon her cheeks deepens, delighting me no end. Although no one knows what is happening except me, Sharkey will feel the whole of the restaurant’s eyes upon her, fearing detection at every turn. That’s part of what makes this so fun. In reality, no one cares about much bar themselves. Unless she’s screaming blue murder or making an absolute twat of herself, none of the other diners will pay her the slightest bit of attention. She doesn’t know that, though.
Elizabeth’s attention is completely divided. Half of the time she’s looking around the restaurant like she’s committed the crime of the century, and the other half is spent on fiddling with something between her legs. What is she doing down there? I could have finished the job in seconds.
I give her another minute or two before I feel the need to interject. “Is there a problem? Either you’re wearing the world’s most difficult panties, or you’ve suddenly gone blind. Which is it, Elizabeth?” I’m grinning. I can’t help myself. I have no idea what she’s up to down there, but it looks complicated.
“Neither,” she finally grunts. “I’m wearing stockings, which need to be undone, and a blouse which is a bodysuit, which also needs to be undone, before I can even get to the damn panties.”
I blink. Wow. “Why on the earth would you wear panties under a bodysuit? Do you like making men’s lives difficult?” I thoroughly approve of the stockings, though I’m not about to tell her so.
“Didn’t even think about it. I put the panties on before I decided what to wear.”
“Bet you wish you hadn’t, now.” I hear the distinct sound of three poppers being released, one after the other. Victory is close.
“Damn straight,” she says, as she begins wriggling around again. “Do you do this to all your first dates?”
“Only if they’re as uptight as you are,” I say, giving her a wink. “By the sounds of things, I think we need to break you in gently.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks me indignantly. The effect is somewhat ruined by all the frantic shifting from side to side. I’m thoroughly enjoying the show, though. She’s doing her best to make her movements as clandestine as possible, but by now she’s received a couple of interested glances. These are mostly from men, unsurprisingly enough.
I throw my hands in the air. “It means we need to loosen you up a little. You’re uptight. This is understandable. You’re the boss lady. You like to be in control. Every now and again, though, it’s nice to give up control. There’s a chance you might even enjoy yourself,” I add, mischievously.
Elizabeth frowns. “Want if I don’t want to give up control?” I can now hear her kicking off her heels underneath the table. She’s lucky we’re boxed into a little booth here. If we were in one of the circular tables in the middle, this would have been much more fun – for me at least. A pair of very pert ass cheeks would have been on display, to say the least.
“Then you’re not going to enjoy yourself very much, are you?” I give her a mocking pout. If she wants to back out, now is the time to do so. It’s only going to get worse from here on in.
“You’re thoroughly enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” she comments, when she’s finally managed to yank her elusive panties off. Letting out a little yelp of triumph, she slaps them down on the table. They are white lace, and I’ve seen more material on a key-chain holder.
“Oh, you have no idea,” I reply, unable to conceal the shit-eating grin that is taking up half of my face. “That body suit is still undone, isn’t it? If it isn’t, it’ll have to come off, too.”
Elizabeth gives me a dry look. “You’d make me take that off at the table as well?”
“Of course,” I add, almost affronted that she needs to ask that question.
“It is still undone,” she confirms. This is good.
“Well then,” I say pleasantly, “it’s about time you got the cheque, isn’t it?”
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, but she beckons our host over with another flick of her fingers. He’s been hovering for a while now, so I know he’s been watching everything that’s been going on. I do hope we’ve given him a good show.
“Yes, Madam?” he questions, his eyes straying to the scrap of white lace that is still lying on the table. He knows exactly what they are. This is too funny.
Elizabeth then slaps her hand over them and tries to speak. The first syllable that comes out of her mouth is a squeak, so she has to clear her throat and try again. By this time, I am working desperately hard not to dissolve into hysterics.
“Would it be possible to get the bill, please?” she manages to get out eventually. Her voice is rather breathless and wobbly. This woman is a far cry from the person that rounded on me this morning, issuing demands left, right, and center.
“Of course, Madam.” Unfortunately, our host is too much of a professional to say a word about what has just gone on, but Elizabeth’s face says it all.
“You’d better be as good as they say you are,” she mutters, placing her hand on her chest. I’m guessing her heart rate has just exploded rather painfully. It’s one of the side effects of dating me. I should probably carry a warning label. ‘Adrien Dumortier – instigator of female heart attacks.’
“I’m better,” I say, smirking. “Now place those panties inside your mouth and do not remove them until I give you permission to do so.” I sit back in my chair, crossing my hands behind my neck and wait to see what will happen.
Her mouth opens again, in that delightful little ‘O’ I so appreciate.
“No way,” she says, shaking her head. How am I supposed to pay the bill?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Not my problem. If you don’t do it, though, you’re going home alone, which is a shame considering you’ve already done most of the hard work.” It will probably be a relief for me, as this is still a very bad idea. I’d be much better off sleeping with any of the numerous women that give me their numbers on a fairly regular basis. So why am I here? Good question, Adrien.
“You’re an asshole, Dumortier.” Elizabeth only uses my surname when she’s pissed with me. For some reason, it sounds filthy on her lips and I love it.
“Tick tock,” I say, pointing to my Rolex. “If you don’t do it by the time our host gets back here, your window of opportunity
is lost.”
I can see her take a deep breath as she considers this, but she has no time to contemplate the ramifications of her actions because the bill is waltzing its way towards us with a card machine in tow.
Grabbing the panties, she stuffs them in her mouth and gives me daggers. She has no idea how adorable she looks.
“Your bill, Madam.” A little saucer with a receipt is placed on the table and he waits patiently as Elizabeth produces the company credit card.
When she does, she hands it to him with a smile. There’s no way she’ll get off that easily. Sure enough, his next words confirm my thoughts.
“Was the meal satisfactory?” he asks.
“Mmm,” she coos, nodding her head dramatically.
“And did you enjoy the escargot, after all?”
Elizabeth is less enthusiastic on that one. She just waggles her head from side to side, noncommittally.
“They are an acquired taste,” he confirms sympathetically. “What was it that you didn’t like?”
Bingo. There’s always at least one question that can’t be answered with a yes or no. Now I get to watch her squirm, and she does, looking up at me helplessly. I’m not about to help her. No way.
After a few seconds of intense discomfort, she finally frowns prettily and shakes her shoulders. Our host smiles, gives me a knowing look, and then hands her the receipt. I decide we’ll have to come here again. I could have a lot of fun around these parts.
Elizabeth wastes no time making her exit after that. Shrugging on her jacket, she then hoists her skirt back into place and smooths it down, as though she still has some semblance of control here. Foolish woman. She then makes a beeline for the door, and I decide I’d better follow her.
“I ‘ate you,” she manages to garble through the panties, as she almost power walks out of the restaurant.
“Ah, you say that now,” I purr, squeezing her ass and slapping it hard, “but later I think you’ll be singing a different tune.”
With my hand lingering upon her ass, I guide her slowly to my car.
Deadly Retaliation: A Dark Bully Harem Romance (A Twisted, Dark and Deadly Romance Book 1) Page 7
