I growled and wrapped a hand around Trent’s tie, using it like a short silk leash. I pressed close to his ear, his skin already searing. “Good, because I’m going to do the dirtiest, most wicked things to you.”

Trent visibly swallowed, his body trembling.

“And you’re going to tell me every single one of them.”

“What?” Trent choked out.

“You heard me.” My hand twisted on his tie. “You want it, you’ll ask for it. Maybe even beg for it.”

His eyes widened and then lowered, his face flushed.

He was loving this, this tease and play, and it made me want to fucking explode. I didn’t know what got into me. One moment I was mopping up spilled coffee, the next I was in his face trying not to shove my tongue down his throat and dry hump him like a madman.

What’s my problem? I can’t believe I started in with that control freak shit. I knew he was. So what? He’s allowed. He’s the goddamn CEO!

But god, something in the way he looked at me with such need, the way his body pulsed and responded to my touch, the way he craved this chance enough to throw caution to the wind and hook-up with the bossy janitor, despite his obsession with control, had me going batshit crazy. It was too late to turn back now. I was all in, screw the consequences. My cock couldn’t get any harder.

I wanted him to know this wasn’t about shame or humiliation. This was about asking for what he wanted. Things I knew he hid deep within him. It was always the straight-laced, uptight, control-hungry ones that were the wildest and the most fun to unwind. But they were also the ones who took the most convincing to let it go.

“No judgments here, Mr. Davis,” I said. “No matter what. Fuck, I may even get off on it more than you.” I took his hand and pressed it against my raging hard-on.

He gasped, surprise in his eyes.

“That’s how turned on I am already. By you.” I grazed the shell of his ear with my lower lip. He hissed and squeezed my cock. I smiled, tracing his ear with my tongue, and pushed his hand away. Wrapping him in my arms, I ground my erection into his hip and he groaned.

He kept his head down. “And what if I can’t . . .”

My gut told me this was a test. “If you can’t tell me what you want . . . you’ll get punished.”

“Punished?” Trent’s voice cracked, and his eyes snapped up to mine. Again, I got a feeling there was something behind that protest. Something deviant and delicious.

“Anything I want.” This time, I reached down to cup his package through his high-priced slacks. He moaned, his cock like petrified wood.

“We’re going to have fun,” I whispered. My head spun, and I hadn’t even gotten started yet. Shit. Was I this easy?

Trent squirmed. He too was a bundle of nerves.

“Start talking.” I grabbed his ass and pulled him hard up against me.

He made a noise between a groan and whimper.

“What do you want me to do to you . . . first?”

His hands rested on my chest—palms flat. But he didn’t push. He wanted them there, for I felt his fingers clench and unclench, like a cat kneading a pillow. He stared at me as if he struggled inside.

“I—” He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t say it.”

“You know the consequences.”

He nodded. “What will you do?” His normally deep voice was small.

Fuck, there was so much I wanted to do to him. Most of it wouldn’t register as punishment for either of us. But I already knew how I’d do it. It was my kink, but it worked wonders with those who loved control, loved being large and in charge, and hated giving it over to someone else.

“Turn around and put your hands on top of your head,” I ordered.

Trent gave me one last steamy look. There was uncertainty there, but then his eyes darkened and he did as he was told.

I pressed my cock against his ass and brought my hands around to his belt. I undid the buckle and then slid that 100% genuine leather slowly out of each belt loop. I yanked it free and flung it off. Trent’s breathing grew heavy and ragged, and I hadn’t even unbuttoned his pants. Need and want consumed him. I could hear it in his breath and feel it in his racing heartbeat.

I undid the button on his slacks and pulled the zipper down, slow enough to frustrate him. His cock strained the fly, nearly busting out of it once the zipper was breached. I eased his slacks off his hips, letting them pool at his feet.

Shit, I wanted to squeeze and fondle his cock and balls in those expensive boxers, already wet with his precome.

But this was punishment.

I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, one hand at each side of his hips. I slid them down, inch by inch, bringing my thumbs inward, letting them brush over that lean muscled V. His breath caught, and mine went ragged near his ear. When I grazed his bush, his groin muscles fluttered.

Lifting his boxers out briefly, his cock sprung forward. Fuck, it was beautiful. Hard, wet, and thick, longer than I expected, with a dark pink head. Again, I had to hold myself back from touching it. Punishment. This was punishment—for me too, it seemed.

I pushed the boxers down to rest at his ankles along with his pants and came back up to his ear. As I thrust my hard-as-steel dick into the cleft of his now-bare ass, I wrapped my arms around him. He shook. “Chaz,” he breathed.

“Hottest cock I’ve ever seen,” I said against his ear, then sucked the lobe into my mouth.

Trent gasped and pressed his ass back into me.

“Such a dirty, needy man.” I nipped at his neck.

He moaned, and I swear I could’ve just ground into him like this until we both came. I reached up and grabbed Trent’s wrists, lowering them for a moment.

“Bend over your desk and put your hands above, spread with your palms down. Like you’re about to be cavity searched by a very crooked, very horny cop.”

He hesitated. “Is that my . . . punishment?”

Again, Trent said the word with a hitch in his throat; a telling hitch. He liked that word.

“Not today,” I answered. However, I was always open to suggestions in the future.

He did exactly what he was told, and fuck if that wasn’t the most beautiful sight. Trent Davis, CEO, as rigid and straight-laced as they came, with his pants down around his ankles, his tanned, near-hairless ass served up on a platter. Those pert, firm cheeks just for me.

I sat on the desk and folded his dress shirt up to give me complete access to his entire, sweet back end. “I bet you think I’m going to fuck you like this, don’t you, Mr. Davis?”

He didn’t respond.

“But no. This is your punishment, remember?” I had to keep reminding myself of that too.

“Yes, Chaz,” he whispered, and I had to adjust.

Cruelly pressed inside my Dickies, my cock leaked like crazy. “You’re going to be in this position for a while, so get comfortable.”

He lifted up and pulled his cock and balls forward.

When he settled back into position, I dragged the back of my knuckles up the same cleft my aching dick had been wedged in moments ago.

Trent’s whole body shivered, his ass clenching.

“Here’s the deal, Mr. Davis.” I rested my palm on one velvety ass cheek. “You’re going to get spanked.”