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Dirty Rich(13)

By:Amelia Wilde


"What's going to happen now … " I say slowly, letting her take in every  word while I brush my hand upward from her waist and take a firm hold of  first one breast, then the other, squeezing, cupping. Her nipples are  hard, begging to be pinched, and I accept the invitation. " … is that you  are going to obey my every instruction without hesitation, without  question."

She stiffens in my arms, reacting to the gentle tweaks of her nipples with shudder after shudder.

"Acknowledge that you've heard me."

"All right," she says, exquisitely, softly.

"Yes, Mr. Hunter," I prompt.

"Yes, Mr. Hunter." As soon as I give her an explicit instruction, her voice becomes stronger, more confident.

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I release her, stepping back. "Bend over the desk."

"What?" She spins to face me, her eyes wide.

"Bend over the desk." I articulate every word carefully, but without  irritation. I am the fucking picture of patience even while my cock  throbs in its prison. Her eyes cut over to my desk, and then lock back  on my eyes.         

     



 

"Without hesitation, Ms. Schaffer," I remind her with a half-smile.  She's going to love the hell out of this. She just has to let herself.

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Squaring her shoulders, she steps over to the desk and bends over it.

My god, is she a gorgeous goddamn creature. She's already trying to do her best, even though she doesn't know all the rules yet.

I step over to her, placing one hand on the small of her back. "Good  girl." She has her head turned toward me just enough for me to see her  bite her lip, the blush spread across her cheeks.

I've just found her favorite phrase.

That was easier than I thought it would be.

Cate might have complicated reasons for subjecting herself to the  torture of working for Sarzó every day for more than a year, but her  deepest self is simple. And filthy.

"A couple of adjustments. Your breasts should be firmly against the  surface of the desk." I press down, and she offers no resistance. "And  your legs … " I move behind her and put one scuff-less, shining shoe  between her heels, pressing outward so she's forced to spread her legs  farther apart.

"Have you made a note of this position?"

"Yes."

I tap her back twice. A beat goes by before she remembers. "Yes, Mr. Hunter."

"Good girl." A tiny shiver of delight.

While she holds herself in that position, practically vibrating with  excitement and nerves, I run my hands over every inch of her back, her  waist, her hips, finally moving down to the hem of her skirt.

"Did you follow my instructions?"

"Yes, Mr. Hunter." Her hands are pressed flat against the empty surface  of my desk, and she tenses as I lift her skirt, pressing it up to her  waist so that her firm, round ass is exposed to me.

"Oh, Ms. Schaffer," I say, allowing a hint of disappointment to enter my voice.

She swallows, says nothing. Amazing how quickly she's catching on to our little game.

"I see you've tried to follow my instructions. Unfortunately, you've  fallen a bit short. You should understand that when I make a request,  you should do everything in your power to fulfill it to the best of your  ability. These are red panties … " I trace one of the lacy seams with a  fingertip. " … but they're a little threadbare. That's not acceptable."

"No, Mr. Hunter," she whispers.

"Do you know what happens to people who don't meet my expectations?" I keep my voice even and low.

"No, Mr. Hunter." A hitch in her voice when she says my name.

"They get punished."

She takes in a sharp breath and starts to push herself upward.

Stops.

Lowers herself back down.

My god, she is perfect for me.

I push that thought aside. Perfection or no, there is no woman who will ever be allowed to have such an influence on me.

"This is our first meeting, so I'll go easy on you."

Her shoulders relax.

"Hold still."

"Yes, Mr. Hunter."

I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pull them down  to her knees, exposing the smooth, white skin of her ass, slightly  parted by the spread of her legs. It takes everything I have not to  groan out loud at the sight of it.

I want her so badly.

I might have been lying when I said I wouldn't punish her today.

It won't be a punishment she's expecting.

The pink folds of her pussy are already glistening, wet, and all I've done is bend her over my desk.

Yes. This is exactly what she needs.

I catch a glimpse of the clock. Fuck. Ten minutes.

In one step I'm back beside her, one hand putting pressure on the small  of her back, one hand on her inner thigh, sliding up to meet her  wetness. She moans when my fingers make contact with her folds like she  hasn't been touched in forever.

She probably hasn't.

The thought that I'm the first in a long time makes my breath catch in  my throat, but I don't let on. Instead, I collect her wetness on my  fingertips and start to explore every single inch of her, every single  fold, every single crease.

It drives Cate wild.

Inside of a minute, she's struggling to keep her legs spread and barely  succeeding, pressing back against my hand, writhing. I stroke her in a  measured rhythm and her breath matches it, little gasps that are so  fucking hot I want to fuck her right now, right here, the first meeting.  I've already had to wait too long.         

     



 

But I can control myself.

I need to show her that I control her as well.

"Don't move," I say, my voice steely, and she tenses, trying so hard not  to move that she's shaking as my fingers work her pussy.

Five minutes.

I slide two fingers into her opening and they meet with absolutely no  resistance, she's soaked. Her muscles immediately clench around them and  I let out a short sharp breath.

I want to bury my cock in her up to the hilt, to fuck her with total  abandon, to bottom out against the very limit of her and let myself go. I  want to fuck her like I've never fucked another woman before and never  will again. I want to make her mine, so totally and completely that  she'll never consider another man.

Three minutes.

When I withdraw my fingers she whimpers just a little, and I give her a  light slap on the ass. "Who is in control, Ms. Schaffer?"

"Y-you are, Mr. Hunter."

"Don't forget," I say as I glide my fingertips along her slit until they make contact with her swollen clit.

Two minutes.

She puts her own hand over her mouth to stifle the little moans that she  can't stop. I'm circling her clit with my fingers quickly, evenly, tiny  targeted movements that are bringing her to the brink. Cate can't  escape it without disobeying me and the submissive side of her is on  full display-she doesn't make a single move to get away from the intense  sensations, just clamps one hand over her mouth and curls the other  over the edge of the desk, holding herself in place as she's wracked  with uncontrollable shudders emanating from her hips.

One minute.

I pick up the pace.

Faster.

Harder.

Faster.

And just at the perfect moment, just when I see that she's about to  explode on my fingertips, I take them off her clit and shove three of  them back into her opening.

Cate cries out into her hand as the waves of her orgasm crash over her,  my fingers getting the brunt of her pleasure, spasms of pure heat.

Time's up.

Before I pull her upright, I lean down and slide her panties to her  ankles, then tap one shoe, signaling that she should step out of them.

She does.

When she's standing I help her straighten her skirt. Her face is pink,  her breathing heavy. Her eyes go from my face to the red panties in my  hand.

"Time's up, Ms. Schaffer."

"Are you going to-"

"Give you your panties back? No."

A smile quirks the corners of her mouth.

I knew she'd enjoy herself.

"I'll see you here tomorrow at five."

Cate heads for the door, and I beat her there, unlocking it. She steps through, and turns back.

"Yes, Mr. Hunter."





Chapter 18

Cate





I'm not back to Sandra's office yet when the walls start to close in around me.

My muscles are relaxed-it's been forever since I got off by anything  other than my own hand-but the warm, bubbly pleasure it gave me melts  away ten feet outside Jax's door.

This is dangerous.

Jax's office isn't soundproof. It's impossible to see through the doors,  but anyone standing outside would have been able to hear exactly what  was going on. And Sandra would have no qualms about coming to interrupt  one of our meetings.

What the hell was I thinking?

This is guaranteed to get me fired. Fired. How's that going to look when  I have to apply for other jobs? How's that going to keep me from being  forced out of my career before I'm ready?

It's not.

And no matter what he says, no matter how he acts, Jax doesn't really care about me.

The truth is that this is a game. This is an agreement. It's something  on the side to occupy the next month, and I was a goddamn idiot to agree  to it. I cannot, cannot, let myself be overtaken by how much I want  him.