For His Pleasure, Book 1 (The Submission of Miss Masters, Domination, BDSM) (10 page)

And she wanted to come so badly now.

He waited a while. Her heartbeat began to slow. She didn’t move or look at him, she just lay there while he stood and watched her.

Finally he turned her over onto her back again. He grabbed her skirt and pulled it down, past her feet, threw it on the floor. “Open your legs.”

She opened them. He lowered himself onto her. She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and used it to pull him into her. At first she thought he might object to this, but he didn’t for some reason.

He was looking directly into her eyes as he penetrated her.

She felt like she was looking into two deep reflecting pools, and she was falling into them. But she was safe, even as she fell.

She was sinking into the depths of pleasure, of total sexual bliss.

His enormity filled her entirely. He moved slowly in and out of her. His body was so strong and he had total control of it, and of her.

She was going to have a major orgasm.

He knew it and backed off. Then he began bringing her to climax, but again—

stopped before she could finish.

She was exhausted from it, but in a good way. Totally spent.

He stared into her eyes. “I love you,” he said. “I knew it from the second you walked into my office that first day.”

She barely contained her surprise. But then, from out of her lips; “I love you too.”

He moved into her, his thrusts quickening. She locked her legs around him and squeezed him deeply inside, locking him in as she had the most profound orgasm of her life, or any life she could even imagine.

He held her as she cried out, kissed her mouth as she moaned into his—his tongue penetrated her as he came with her. She could feel him spasming, feel him emptying himself into her.

She had another orgasm that swept her away, as if to the sea. She was floating in pure happiness.

When they were done, he lay with her for a while, stroking her hair and kissing her face. “You are so beautiful.”

It didn’t last long enough. Soon he was up, buttoning his trousers, straitening and tucking in his shirt, looking like Red Jameson, CEO, again.

“My shirt’s ruined,” she said, picking up the tattered cloth at her feet.

“I can remedy that,” he told her, walking to the closet. He opened it. Inside there were hangers of women’s clothing. Some of it was latex. He took a white blouse, held it up to the light and glanced at her. “This should do the trick for now.” He tossed it to her.

Nicole made a face. “This is another woman’s shirt.”

“Nobody else has ever worn that.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Then you can go home nude.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

He buttoned his cuffs. “Don’t test me, Nicole. I’m in no mood.”

“Neither am I.” She met his gaze.

He smiled harshly. “Fine.” He went to the trunk and kneeled down, opened it.

After some rummaging, he came out with a man’s dress shirt. “How about this?”

“One of your shirts,” she said.

He didn’t reply. “You want it or not?”

“Fine.” She took it, secretly pleased. She wanted a piece of him with her at all times, and this shirt would do. She put it on, feeling the softness of it, buttoning it up. It was huge on her.

“You want a pair of khakis to go with it?” he said sarcastically.

“My skirt’s still in one piece. You owe me a new shirt by the way,” she said.

“I’m not forgetting that.”

“Come on,” he said. “We need to get you home.”

***

She arrived home exhausted, and Danielle was up waiting for her. She was furious. “What happened to you?”

“Danielle, please…” she shuffled past her towards her bedroom. “I just want to take a shower and go to sleep.”

“Did you get raped or something?”

“Raped?” Nicole couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look at your shirt. What happened to the one you left in?”

Nicole didn’t know how to answer that. “Listen, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine. Really.”

“That wasn’t some old friend,” Danielle said. “That’s a new guy. Some big shot you met at work, right?”

“So what if he is?” Nicole spun on her. “I don’t judge you for the guys you sleep with. Justin Bieber and company.”

Danielle made a face. “I don’t sleep with tons of guys, first of all. Secondly, I don’t scare the wits out of you, disappearing and coming back looking like I just came home from war.”

“You’re being overly dramatic.”

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?”

“I’m sure I look a little messy…”

“Whoever he is, he doesn’t seem to have much respect for you.”

“You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I’ve dated a rich, older man before. When I was a senior in high school. I’d just turned eighteen and—“

Nicole put a hand up. “Danielle. If I want your advice on romantic relationships, I’ll come ask for it. But I’m tired now and I want to take a shower and go to bed.”

Danielle’s expression turned stony. “Fine. But maybe I won’t be around next time you happen to need me. I guess you’re showing your true colors, Nic.”

“I’m sorry if—“

“Whatever,” Danielle said, spinning on her heel and quickly going to her bedroom.

The door slammed. Nicole shook her head. This wasn’t what she needed. She felt confused and tired and emotionally drained.

When she got in the bathroom for her shower, she looked in the mirror.

Danielle was right. She looked awful.

***

She didn’t get into work until almost nine the next morning. First, she got up late and then the train was delayed for some reason.

When she arrived, the girl in the next cubicle stood up and peered over. Her eyes were wide. “Mister Jameson was looking for you,” she said in a hushed, awed voice.

“He was?” Her heart began to instantly race.

“He said you should go immediately to his office when you arrive. He seemed upset.”

“Thanks.” She fumbled for her purse and then stopped off to tell Glen she was here.

He waved her in, blinking furiously. “Nicole, did you just get here?”

“I’m so sorry. The train—“

“Red Jameson came down wanting to speak to you. Twice.”

“Twice?”

“I told him you came in between seven and seven-thirty. Imagine how foolish I felt when eight forty-five rolls around and you’re still not in, and no phone call.”

She was mortified. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sir. Now she was doing her submissive thing with Glen Goldman.

He blinked a few times. “This was highly embarrassing for me,” he told her.

“Please don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t. I should go, he left a message for me to go to his office when I got in.”

“Go. Go. I can’t imagine why he wants to see you so urgently…” Glen shook his head, more bewildered than usual.

She ran down the hall, took the elevator up to Red’s floor. Then she ran to the doors and knocked. The door cracked open and Red saw her. His expression was unwelcoming to say the least. “Please wait here,” he said. “I’ve got something I need to attend to. I should only be a few minutes.”

And then the door shut.

The time ticked by. Nicole shuffled, shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

God, she was still so tired. Like she’d been drugged. Her eyes were heavy. No chance yet for coffee, and she needed some caffeine badly.

The time dragged on. She pressed her ear to the door and listened but there was nothing. It didn’t sound like he was in a meeting or anything.

She checked her cell phone. It was now 9:30. She’d been up here waiting almost half an hour.

After another twenty minutes torturously passed, she sank to the floor and sat with her back against the wall. Had he forgotten she was out here?

Of course not. This was all planned, deliberate, just like everything else Red did.

Unfortunately, he was still the head of this company and she was just an intern, so she couldn’t disobey him now.

Another half an hour passed and she started to nod off.

“Well, well, this is cute,” a voice said.

Startled, she looked up to see a tall, statuesque brunette coming towards her.

Nicole got to her feet, her cheeks burning. “Sorry, I’ve been waiting out here for so long, I just got tired—“

The woman laughed condescendingly. “No need to apologize darling, I myself have had one too many cocktails on a Friday night. Of course, it’s not Friday yet, is it?”

Nicole stammered incoherently. The woman stared down her nose at her. She was tall, very well put together. She was obviously older, more experienced, but still beautiful in a kind of frighteningly serious way. She reeked of money and class and even sex.

And then she was knocking on the door to Red’s office. He opened it slowly, smiled at the woman. “Ah, Talia, how nice to see you. Come in, come in.”

Talia walked inside. As Red shut the door without so much as glancing at Nicole, she heard the woman laugh. “I see you have a little wrinkled hobo laying outside your door. Trying to recreate skid row right here at Jameson International?”

Both of them laughed and the door clicked shut, muffling their brutal guffaws.

Nicole held back her tears. She was furious. At herself for allowing him to make a fool of her, and at that bitch for thinking she could treat her like a piece of dirt. But more than anything, Nicole was angry with herself.

Maybe Danielle was right. Red didn’t respect her at all.

She considered leaving, just walking out of the building and never returning.

Ignore his calls, if he made any—get a new job. Move on with her life and forget Red Jameson ever existed.

But she knew that she couldn’t really do that. Which only made her more angry and hurt. She was at his mercy in every way and he knew it.

Another forty minutes went by before Talia left. She left as she’d entered, laughing and joking intimately with Red. On her way out she brushed by Nicole without so much as a word.

When the woman disappeared from view, Red turned to Nicole with a brutal expression. “Get in here.”

“She’s a bitch.”

“I said get in.”

She strode past him and he closed the door behind her.

“What was all that about?” she asked.

“You don’t ask the questions around here,” he spat. His voice was barely controlled. She saw that he was absolutely as furious with her as she was with him.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t deserve—“

“You don’t deserve?” he scoffed, walking to the bar and pouring himself a glass of water from a pitcher. He didn’t offer her anything. “You don’t even know what you deserve. You’re a child.”

“I know that I should be treated with respect.”

“Bullshit. Who told you that? One of your little teeny bopper friends?”

She flushed. Everything she thought, he seemed to know it. “Is this because I came in late to work today?”

He drank some of his water. “You say that as if it’s a minor detail.”

“My train was delayed.”

“You think that because we have a relationship outside of work, you can waltz in here after nine o’clock, you think you can get away with murder now.”

“No. That’s not true.” But she doubted her own words. She
had
gotten up late this morning. Would she have done that if she hadn’t felt secure in her relationship with Red?

He glared at her. “I put my trust in you, Nicole. Obviously I made an error.”

An error. Like it was an accounting mistake he could fix with a swift stroke of his mighty pen.

“Am I not allowed to be human?” she asked.

He looked surprised. “Don’t be glib.”

“I’m not. You want perfection. I never said I was perfect.”

He strode toward her. “What I want is effort. Dedication. Don’t come into my place of business and make me look like a fool.”

His eyes burned into her. She met his gaze and didn’t falter. “I’m sorry I came in late. You’re right. I was being disrespectful.”

This admission seemed to mollify him slightly.

“But I’ve been punished enough,” she told him. “You humiliated me in front of that awful woman.”

His expression darkened again. “You don’t decide what’s enough.”

“You said I could tell you when I’d had enough.”

“Have you?”

“In this instance.”

He made a face of disgust. “Just get out of my office.”

It stung. But she was angry now, too. He wanted to keep rubbing her face in shit and she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. “Fine, Red. Have it your way.” She turned and left, not looking back.

***

Nicole had found a new resolve. After returning to her desk, she made a decision.

She wasn’t going to crack the way she had before. She wasn’t going to give Red the satisfaction of seeing her go to pieces.

He wanted her too. She knew that now.

Being apart would be as hard for him as it was for her. She had to believe that.

So she went to Remi’s office. Remi was concentrated on her computer. She looked up, dazed. “Hey, Nicole. What’s up?”

“Give me work. Give me as much as you can.”

“I thought you were getting sick of dancing cowboy pictures.”

“No. In fact, I’m kind of getting to like them.”

Remi’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, no. You must be sicker than I thought. You’ve gone off the reservation.”

“Just give me whatever you can. I want to work until I can’t see straight.”

Remi shrugged. “I’ll show you a little Adobe and then you can get going on some of these pictures I’m struggling with. But I warn you—this won’t be pretty.”

“I’m game.”

“Pull up a chair.”

And she did.

Remi kept to her word, first giving Nicole an Adobe tutorial and then emailing her dozens and dozens of pictures to work on.

Nicole was at the office until well after nine o’clock that night. And she didn’t check her phone once.

When she got home, Danielle wasn’t in. She didn’t much care, she was a zombie.

She fell into bed that night and slept a dreamless, deep sleep.

Her alarm woke her at five the next morning and she got up promptly, showered, dressed, left and caught the train, arriving at the office by six o’clock.

She was one of the first people in. She made the first pot of coffee and got right to work.