Authors: Lena Black
Unfortunately, for them, h
e’s mine. He is my own personal Master of Pleasure, Aficionado of Fuck.
The realization thrills me. A surge of euphoria eases my nerves and leaves me ecstatic, confident.
The lobby is
huge, with black marble walls and floors. There are seven elevators, with stainless steel doors, lined up in a row toward the back, and a massive crowd of people waiting in front of them. Once again, when they notice Hunt headed toward the elevators, they part like the Red Sea for Moses.
The mob gawks as we pass them, and I keep my head down. We walk up to the car in the middle, and he slides a card
, with the sleight of the hand, across a black plate. The doors open promptly, and we walk into our private cab. I glance up at the group of people waiting, and every eye is focused on Mr. Hunt and his blue-eyed accessory. The doors slide shut, and I’m finally able to breathe without the public’s eyes on us.
“I’m going to keep a watchful eye on the women around here.”
He glances down at me, baffled. “Why?”
“You didn’t notice them falling over themselves at the sight of you?”
“No. I only notice the beauty grasping onto me.” He squeezes my hand and bends down for a kiss, which I surrender happily. “I’ll miss you, angel face.”
I throw myself into his welcoming arms. “I’ll miss you, too, slick.”
He culls me into him and holds me until the ding goes off for my floor. I kiss him one more time and exit the elevator.
“Later, babe.” His lovely face harbors a sexy, crooked smirk. He’s leaning against the back wall with his hands in his pockets.
He looks like a model in a chic French magazine. He’s so gorgeous I can’t comprehend it.
I smile back at him and wave as the doors shut behind me, severing us from one another.
The reception area is posh and contemporary. The floors are white marble, and the walls are frosted glass. The front desk, which Kat’s sitting behind, is all curved, frosted glass and stainless steel. The three-dimensional, stainless steel letters on the frosted glass partition behind her, reads, View, with two entrances on either side of the wall. It’s has Hunt written all over it.
I greet
Kat, “Hey. What an office.”
“I know, right? The other digs were a dump by comparison.” She giggles. She’s a chill chick with short,
dark brown hair, brown eyes, and mocha skin.
“I better get in there. We should do lunch this week.”
“Yeah, I could go for that. I’ll show you this frickin’ awesome place around the corner.”
“Perfect. I need to find out what’s around here. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, honey. Good luck!” she calls out to me on my way into the main office. It’s a huge, open floor plan with frosted glass offices encircling the enormous, desk-filled space.
I head straight back toward my office, where Hunt told me it would be. There on the clear glass door is my name and title proudly displayed in frosted letters, except, the title isn’t complete yet. It reads, Editor.
“Hello, sunshine. What do you think?” Chase’s voice breaks my attention from the door.
“Hey…I think there’s been a mistake.” I point to the wording, and he shrugs.
“Your boyfriend’s decision. May want to take it up with him.”
I sure as shit am
.
I rip off my coat, tossing it, along with my purse, on the floor in the office and storm off.
“I’ll be upstairs if anyone asks.”
I choose to take the stairs since his office is a floor up. I stomp through the reception area, right past the tall, brunette beauty at the front desk. She urgently tries to stop me, but I blow past her as if I were a tornado fueled by rage and betrayal. Hell hath no fury like I’m about to thrust upon Mr. Hunt.
I charge toward the back where I know I’ll locate his office. There is an impeccably dressed brunette sitting at her desk to the right of the towering black doors. She rises from behind her desk to greet me, but I haul ass past her.
She anxiously calls out after me,
“Miss, you can’t go…”
I open the door and slam it behind me, cutting her off.
Damian peers at me, self-possessed and stoic, from behind his titanic, black desk with the phone receiver to his ear.
“I’m going to call you back…Emergency.”
He hangs up the phone slowly, with cautious vivid green eyes cemented to my infuriated blue. His office is roughly the size of his living room with a floor to ceiling glass wall displaying downtown behind him.
“I knew it wouldn’t be long before you had to see me.” The lackluster in his voice tells me he was expecting this.
“Do you mind explaining why it reads Editor on my door?” I stand with my arms crossed, foot tapping on the white marble floor.
“You earned it.”
“I thought I received the Assistant Editor position. This is too much. I can’t fucking believe you didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t think you would get like this. I was expecting you to be overwhelmingly ha
ppy and appreciative. Certainly not vein popping mad.”
“How could I not be? I’m not prepared!” I stride into his expansive office and lean on the opposite end of the desk.
“Gabrielle, lower your voice, or I will spank you. You have one warning, and then I take action.” His face remains emotionless, as if none of this daunts him, but his voice reveals the anger brewing within. “Shannon will train you. You’ll do fine.”
I pound my fist on his desk
, rattling the picture frames near my hand.
“That’s what this is about? You didn’t want
Chase to train me, and you changed my position at the magazine so he couldn’t.”
“It was e
ither promote you or fire him. I chose the lesser of two evils. You both win.”
I’m beyond furious now.
“You are a spoiled, selfish child thinking of only what benefits you! Don’t plan on lunch, driving me home, or being with me tonight.” I turn swiftly, making my escape for the doors. When I reach them, they’re locked. “Unlock the damn door, Damian!”
I thrash at the knob, yanking sharply. Hunt’s on me in a second, hands planted on the door, so I’m wedged between his extended arms. My back is pressed up against the blockade, and I’m panting.
“I told you to behave, and you disobeyed my wishes. I meant what I said. Go to my desk and bend over with your skirt hiked up past your ass.”
“Damian, I’m not in the mood to play,” I growl.
“I’m not playing. I’m punishing you for your atrocious behavior.”
I glare at him and duck out from between his arms. I walk over to the desk and sit on it with my legs crossed. “Go fuck yourself. You aren’t touching me.”
“Gabrielle, bend over and take the punishment like a big girl.”
“Go…fuck…yourself.” I reply with a determined look in my eyes, making sure to emphasis each word. I want him to know I mean it.
He struts over to me on the desk, scoops me up, and stands me on the floor. I start to walk away, but he snags my hand and pulls me into his arms. He plants a turbulent kiss upon my lips, wildly attacking my mouth with his tongue. I manage to push away, and I slap him in the face as hard as my hand will let me. He stares at me for a moment and comes back at my lips, hedonistically devouring and ravaging me.
Who am I kidding? I can’t fight him. I want him. I fling my arms around his neck and bring myself into him. We go at each other with a ferociousness that sends me reeling.
He lowers me to the floor, spins me around, and tugs my skirt up over my rear. He grasps the back of my neck and bends me over his desk. I hear a rip, and my panties vanish. He glides his thumb into my aching slit and flicks my clit with his finger. I gasp and moan in approval, even though I’m still furious, I can’t stop what he does to me.
His palm snaps across my cheek, jolting me into the desk, but he doesn’t stop. He fingers my cunt while wreaking havoc on my tender ass. He spanks me an excruciating total of ten times, and once he’s done, continues the agonizing raid on my tensing cleft.
He twines his fingers and thrusts his thumb repeatedly, claiming me greedily. I cry out his name and begin to clench around him ready to cum intensely, but he pulls out abruptly.
I lie across his desk, gasping for air, trying to understand what just occurred. I realize he wasn’t pleasuring me. He was building me up in order to deprive me of what I need. I rise, tugging down my skirt and smoothing out the creases. I’m horny, humiliated, and furious.
Hunt takes a seat in his chair, eyes heavy and full of darkness. I stand before him flushed and ashamed, but that doesn’t last long, and I become enraged.
“I warned you,” he says casually.
“You son of a bitch,” I shakily whisper as tears well up in my eyes. I turn before I can gauge his reaction and sprint for the door, which is damn near impossible in high heels. I’m about to reach the door when he snatches me up and crushes me to him.
“Let me go,” I cry.
His grip only tightens, and I struggle to break free, but it’s a f
utile effort. I push, shove, hit him fervently, but he won’t release me.
“God damn it, Damian, let me go,” I plead, tears flowing liberally down my face.
He loosens his grip enough for me to escape, and I lunge for the door. Before I exit, I murmur with hurt and anger, “Fuck off.”
I bolt from the office with tears stinging the corners of my eyes and a sharp ache piercing my heart.
I
have many new things to learn, which keeps me busy and my mind occupied. Shannon’s a tremendous help, taking the time out of her heavy workload to gingerly guide me along.
I ask
Chase if he wants to do lunch, in desperate need of his company, but he has plans with the new girl at the magazine. Some cute blonde recently hired to be Olivia’s new assistant.
When noon rolls around, I half-expect to find Hunt at my door, but he doesn’t show. I gather my things and head to the reception area to find out if
Kat’s free. No such luck.
I
’m exiting the main lobby when a strong hand grazes my bicep. I swirl around with hopes that Hunt would be standing there. He isn’t. Dante’s icy blues bore into me, an alarming smirk smeared from cheek to cheek.
“Hello there, gorgeous. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Hello. Yes, quite a surprise.” I eye him skeptically. “What are you doing here?”
“I was visiting
Damian, of course. Would you like to have lunch with me? I’m starving.”
“I probably shou…”
“Oh, come on. You look famished. Allow me to buy you something to eat. We can go to a fantastic Brazilian restaurant around the corner.”
Damian told me to stay away, not to spend time alone with him, but this would be public. How bad could it be?
“Ok. I suppose that’s fine,” I reply suspiciously.
“Wonderful.”
I wish I had my fucking panties
.
Damn you, Damian.
He opens the door and follows me out to the lively streets. I keep a distance while we stroll down the curb, but he closes the gap. I’m relieved it doesn’t take long to get there. The hostess seats us in a horseshoe shaped booth toward the back. Not ideal.
I sit across from him, checking out the atmosphere. The lighting’s dim, soothing Brazilian music softly serenades in the background, and beautiful murals depicting Rio de Janeiro brighten the otherwise tan walls.
“Don’t worry about ordering. I have a delectable dish in mind for you.”
“Thanks,” I reply with a cautious tone.
I guess controlling runs in the family.
Dante orders in Portuguese, trying to show off I suppose. I sit there, shifting my thighs, uncomfortable about my nude state. It’s odd. I feel like walking sex. It makes me very aware of myself in my lower regions. When he finishes, he turns his attention back to me. “How are things with Damian?”
“Fine.”
I stare anywhere but at him.
“Is that all? Fine?”
“I prefer we didn’t talk about it.”
“I see. Well, if you do, I’m here.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I mumble, clipped.
He slides his hand across the table toward where mine rests.
“I know he told you to stay away from me.”
My large eyes shoot up to his. He’s grinning with a know-it-all air about him.
“He has his reasons.” I straighten up and look him in those unnerving, glacial eyes.
“He does. G
ood ones, too.”
“If you know he doesn’t want you around me, why ask me to lunch?”
“Why accept?”
This was starting to feel familiar, total Déjà vu. Except, I’ve never felt unsafe with Hunt.
“I’m hungry.”
He laughs uproariously, causing f
ellow patrons to whisper and ogle us.
“I think you know why, and that’s not it.”