Katrina
I can’t move or speak for a few seconds. Mostly because I’ve just realized I let this guy fuck the shit out of me, not knowing who he was.
It was supposed to be a fun little blowout—the kind of thing I never do—and just a bit of fun.
Not a fucking major disaster.
He strides into the room as the secretary bolts. He stops in front of me, and my crossed arms move to my hips while I stick my chin out.
I’m not going to back down.
They made me CEO here, and just because I fucked the daylights out of him, doesn’t mean I have to give in. I still have some power here.
“How fucking funny is this?”
He’s positively delighted.
“At home, I work for you. But here, you work for me.”
“I don’t see it that way,” I snap.
I’m utterly fuming, but I keep my voice steady. Self-control is what’s gotten me so far in life, after all.
“In my opinion, you’re the one who’s butting in where you shouldn’t be. I run the company now. You’re such a fucking slacker, and it needs someone who’s committed to the role.”
He stops in front of me, only inches separating our bodies.
I wish I could stop thinking about his body. I wish my body wasn’t responding to him.
I can’t help it. The harder he looks into my eyes, the wetter I get.
I’m aching. It makes me mad.
“That may be true,” he says easily. “But I still own the joint. You still have to listen to me.”
“Only if it benefits the company,” I snap again. I keep my aggressive stance, even after he steps back a little.
He’s looking me over, trying to think of something smart-assy to say, no doubt.
“So maybe we should have some ground rules for our relationship,” he suggests. He leans on the desk, gloating like a kid at the fair that won all the tickets. “I think it’s only fair since we find ourselves in this predicament.”
“I release you from my service,” I say.
I take my hands off my hips, but I don’t step back. I don’t know how he can look so relaxed, just sitting there.
My nerves are shot, and my pussy’s flaming for his attention. The more he looks at me with those cheeky eyes, the harder I ache inside.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s going to be that simple. We have to interact, you see. Any dissolution of contract isn’t such a simple matter as speaking it out loud. Even if you release me, I certainly don’t release you. You have to take my orders and do as you’re told.”
“Then you’ll also have to do as you’re told,” I rasp.
I’m furious, but I don’t raise my voice. I don’t lose my cool. I’m thinking of hundreds of dirty horrible husband jobs I could make him do.
He’s no doubt thinking the same thing about my position.
“Oh,” he says as he grins at me. “I’m counting on it. Last night, you were quite capable of giving me orders. It’s only fair I do the same to you.”
It’s awful. I feel hot and screwy inside, like I might cry.
That I refuse to do.
I was supposed to be making my own way—proving what I could do—not getting caught in some fuck game with the goddamn boss.
“You know this is my old office, don’t you?”
“I…” I start. The rest doesn’t come out.
I did know that, but in the shock of the last few minutes, I’ve forgotten.
“Do you have any idea how many hot, tasty pieces I’ve fucked right here, on this very desk?” he taunts.
He strokes the wood gently, and I know my cheeks are flaming.
I know his rep, of course. You don’t get a job like this without researching the company and its key members.
“What’s your point?”
“What makes you any different from them? You begged for my cock just like them. I think you’re enjoying this, all of it—the power struggle, the physical interaction, everything.”
I step closer to the desk, and he stands up.
Again, there’s only inches between us. I wish the heat rising off him didn’t make me think about sex.
Goddamit! I’m supposed to be working!
He leans close. Our faces are almost touching. I can’t pull away.
“I’m different from the others because I own your ass. Every tight inch of it,” I whisper against his lips, refusing to give in to the pressure he’s exerting.
Sure, he’s seen me naked. He’s seen my ‘oh’ face.
Big fucking deal.
Now he can see how I strap it on and manage the fuck out of the company he’s been running into the ground.
“Oh,” he responds, smiling. “Is that so? You own my ass?”
“That’s right. Every last bit of it and all the rest that it’s attached to. Sure, you might get to give me orders here. Why not? You’re the big boss, and I have to keep you happy. But if you want to run me through shit, then be utterly sure I’m going to do the same to you. I’ll double-check my own contract here, with Ambrose Industries, and I’ll pull you up and make you toe the line on every policy if I have to. I’ll also review the Male Order contract and make sure I put you to very good use.”
He reaches out and touches my waist.
I don’t move. I keep my eyes fixed on his.
“And what if my first instruction was to take care of my great big cock, Kat darling? What if I wanted you to finish me off, right here on the desk?”
It’s like he can feel my body responding, even though I’m trying so hard not to let it show.
There’s a magnet pulling us together.
Maybe just one more fuck…I want to know how it feels when he’s in charge. I want to be taken…
“Mr. Ambrose! There’s a call!” the secretary barks from the door.
We step apart quickly.
“Can’t it wait?” Will asks with a frown.
“No, sir. We’re about to lose the Paxton account. Someone has to talk to him now!”