For a moment she leaned her face against it, capturing it between her cheek and his stomach, savoring its hot pulse as she inhaled his heady, sensual musk. She turned her face until her lips met the throbbing vein along the satin hardness of taut skin. Again looking up at him, aware of her seductive pose, she licked along the shaft until she arrived at the spongy crown.
She slipped her mouth over it and flicked her tongue along the slit and then in a circle as she lowered her head. Cole groaned and closed his eyes, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.
She suckled her way down, finally taking him deep into her throat. Aware of her skill in pleasing a man in this way, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she drove him over the edge. The awareness gave her a sense of power that was most decidedly not submissive. She was in control.
Despite his whispered words, she was, in fact, the one claiming him at that moment.
When she reached to cup his balls and the base of his shaft, Cole’s voice startled her. “No.
No hands. Put your hands behind your back.” She knew he was close to coming. Why was he stopping her? She decided to ignore him and again reached for his cock with sure fingers.
He pulled back, his cock falling from her mouth. “I said no, Elizabeth. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move. Keep your mouth open for me.” He hadn't raised his voice at all, but there was something in his tone that brooked no disobedience.
Elizabeth’s heart had begun to thump and her legs suddenly felt weak. How quickly he had turned the tables. While a portion of her mind resisted, thinking she should reassert her control, her body ignored this completely. Her clit was swollen, throbbing persistently, and her nipples were so stiff they ached.
He waited until she had obeyed, moving her hands behind her back, before permitting her to touch his cock once more. “Good girl.” His voice was gentle and he actually patted her head. The lingering bit of her mind that could still think tried to bristle at the condescension of his action, but failed utterly.
With a few deft movements, he pulled the pins that held her hair in place, and it fell in waves to her shoulders. He gripped either side her head, wrapping his fingers in her hair. “I want you to look at me. Look in my eyes, Elizabeth, while I use your mouth. While you’re on your knees, with my cock in your pretty mouth, I want you to think about how you feel. Be honest with yourself and with me. Keep your hands behind your back, no matter what I do.
Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered above the thundering of her heart. He smiled, the smile almost cruel.
The slightest frisson of fear moved through her, weaving itself into the tapestry of her lust, yet she stayed still as he had commanded, her eyes locked on his.
With slow deliberation, he eased his shaft into her mouth, nearly choking her as he slid past her soft palate. When she started to suckle him again, he shook his head. “No. Stay still. Just receive me. Accept me.” He pulled back just as slowly until the shaft was nearly out of her mouth and then pressed it back again.
His cock slid into her mouth, pressing her tongue down. This time when the head touched her soft palate, she pulled back, her gag reflex activated.
“Relax. Open yourself to me.” She closed her eyes and tried to do as he said, aware she was trembling and so aroused it was all she could do to keep from reaching beneath her nightgown to rub her swollen, wet pussy.
His grip tightening in her hair, he began to move faster and deeper while she struggled to remain in position, hands clasped behind her back and mouth open to his onslaught.
All at once he released her and pulled her up onto the bed. Kicking out of his clothing, he flipped up her gown, pressed her legs apart with his thigh and touched the entrance of her drenched sex with the head of his cock, slick with her kisses.
She could feel his heart tapping against her chest. “Do you want me?” he murmured.
“God, yes.”
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
She wanted to scream it, but a certain natural decorum kept her from doing so. Instead she arched her hips up toward him in invitation. He pulled at the hem of her gown and lifted it over her head. She lay naked before him.
“Do you have something?” It took her a moment to realize he was asking for a condom.
“No, no, I don’t care. Just fuck me.
Please
.” She was aware of how she must sound, but too desperate for his cock to care.
“I want you, Elizabeth.” He let his weight ease over her, pinning her to the bed with it. She was unable to control the deep shudder that shook her body as his unsheathed cock entered her.
She wasn’t on birth control and she knew they should be practicing safe sex, but she was too far gone to care.
He thrust himself into her, his cock sending spirals of melting ecstasy swirling through her body. For several delicious minutes he moved inside her, the pleasure mounting like an impending storm. When he kissed her mouth, her body exploded in an unexpected and particularly intense orgasm. She bucked beneath him, its power ripping through her like a bolt of lightning.
With a groan of passion, Cole pulled himself from her, his semen landing in hot spurts against her stomach and breasts. She wanted to open her eyes and look at him, to see his face in the throes of his passion, but she was too spent even to lift her eyelids.
She heard him moving beside her but still she couldn’t find the strength to move. She heard him in the bathroom, heard the water running and the toilet flush. In a moment he was back, his weight causing the bed to shift as he lay beside her. She opened her eyes when she felt the warm, wet washcloth sliding against her, wiping away his ejaculate. This was followed by a dry washcloth, and then by his lips brushing her skin.
She was moved by his thoughtful, sweet gesture. How could he be at once so dominant and so tender? He pulled her into his arms. “May I stay?”
She turned toward him and smiled, the endorphins from the orgasm leaving her suddenly giddy with emotion. She wanted to shout,
Yes! Don’t ever go. Ever, ever, ever.
Instead she just nodded and nestled against his broad chest, closing her eyes, safe in his warm embrace.
She came into the office early, hoping to avoid the curious stares and questions of her staff, at least for a while. She knew Art probably didn’t expect her in, but hiding wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Resolving this quickly was the only way to move forward and begin to repair whatever damage Gary had done during her absence the day before.
There were seven messages on her voicemail, but none of them were from Nick. She called Art’s office. Mary Beth answered. “Hi Elizabeth. We weren’t expecting you in today.” Elizabeth held her breath, wondering what Art had told her and what gossip was burning through the office like a brushfire, courtesy of Gary Fuckwad Dobbins. Mary Beth continued. “Art said you might not be coming in for a while…” She let it hang. Elizabeth couldn’t tell if the secretary knew anything or not yet about her impending fall from grace.
Giving nothing away, Elizabeth responded. “I’m much better, thanks. Listen, is Art in by any chance?”
“He just called to say he’s running a little late. I expect him by eight-thirty. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Just let me know the minute he gets in, if you would. I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with him.”
“You got it.”
Elizabeth hung up and stared at her inbox, which was piled with letters to sign, projects to review and the minutia of everyday office life. She grabbed a stack of paper, forcing herself to concentrate on her work.
At eight-ten her phone rang, the double ring indicating it was an interoffice call. Nick Davis showed on the caller ID. She grabbed the receiver. “Hey, Nick.”
“Good morning, Elizabeth. I, uh, got your message. I did what you asked.” She could tell from the marked discomfort in his tone he’d read the offending email, but that couldn’t be helped.
“Yes. And what did you find out?” She reminded herself it didn’t really matter where Gary had written the email from—this would just be, as Cole had called it, icing on the cake.
“I had to check the web-based mail logs but that email was sent from Gary Dobbins’
computer.” Elizabeth let it sink in for a few seconds. “Okay. Thanks, Nick. I really appreciate it.”
At eight-thirty-two her phone rang again. Mary Beth. “He’s here.”
“Thanks, Mary Beth.”
Elizabeth walked down the hall, passing Gary’s office along the way. He was in there and looked up as she passed, but she ignored him. At Art’s office, she knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in,” came the gravelly voice.
Elizabeth entered and walked resolutely toward his desk.
“Elizabeth.” Art looked surprised. “I had thought you’d be—”
“Home, licking my wounds while Gary prepares to take over my job?” She sat down, crossing her legs with confidence, desperately relieved to be operating from a position of power for the first time since Gary had pulled this crap.
Art coughed, clearly uncomfortable. Elizabeth looked him in the eye, keeping her voice professional and as devoid of emotion as she could. “I have proof, Art, that Gary set this whole sordid thing up. Yesterday I was so blindsided by the depths of his deception and slander I wasn’t thinking clearly. Today, I am.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, she continued in a firm voice. “I have three things to say. One—call building security and ask them to review the security camera records for Saturday. Tell them it’s urgent and must be done this morning. You will find that Gary and I were both at the office, but that I left by noon and didn’t return. I am certain you will find that Gary was still in the building when the email was supposedly composed and sent by me at six-seventeen p.m.
“Two—I had Nick Davis check the email transmission logs, something we should have done yesterday, but I guess none of us was thinking on our feet.” She tried to control her glare toward her boss, but failed.
Art still didn’t seem to be getting it. He held out his hands with a placating gesture that made her want to smack him. “Look, Elizabeth. You should know this whole thing has made me very uncomfortable. I never liked the idea of employees getting involved with one another and this mess is really getting out of hand. Whatever happened between you two, I’m willing to forget—”
“No, you listen to me, Art.” Elizabeth’s voice was steely, though miraculously she managed not to raise it. “I’ll repeat myself. Nothing, absolutely
nothing
is going on, ever went on, or ever will go on between Gary Dobbins and myself, except possibly a lawsuit to clear my name, if it comes to that.”
Art opened his mouth to speak but Elizabeth barreled on, determined to make him listen.
“Nick has confirmed that the email was sent from Gary Dobbin’s computer.
Not
my computer.
Gary’s
computer. His password-protected computer. The email logs and the fact Gary was here when the email was sent and I was not are sufficient to prove, beyond any doubt, that Gary is lying. Not only that, he somehow hacked into my computer in his effort to further incriminate me in this web of lies.” Art gaped at her.
She wanted to reach over his desk and shake him. Instead she said in a low, controlled voice that made tougher men than Art Wallace quail, “If additional proof is needed, there are witnesses at that club Gary dragged me to, who will swear, under oath if necessary, that Gary Dobbins presented himself as one John Hunter and offered me, while drugged against my will, for sale at a pretend slave auction. Hopefully we won’t have to go to those lengths, but I’m fully prepared to do so to protect my reputation.”
She stood. “Finally, once you ascertain that he was in the building at the time of the email while I was not and confirm for yourself that the email was sent from his computer, I demand that you fire Gary Dobbins immediately.”
Art’s mouth was hanging open. She stared him down until he managed to close it. Either he would dismiss her out of hand, or he would check out her claims. She waited on tenterhooks, prepared to walk out and not look back if he declined to take action.
To her immense relief, he pressed a button on his phone and barked, “Mary Beth, get building security on the phone. Pronto.”
While Art made his calls to confirm Elizabeth’s assertions, she returned to her office, determined to catch up on some of her work and stop letting Gary dominate her thoughts.
“Didn’t expect to see you here today.” Elizabeth looked up sharply at the sound of Gary’s nasal tenor. He dared to poke his perfectly coiffed blond head around her door, his smile bland and cruel, still unaware what awaited him.
“I imagine you didn’t,” she answered coldly. He stood lingering in the doorway and she forced herself to resist the impulse to wipe off that smirk with her fist. She didn’t want to waste any more time on Gary Dobbins. “I’m busy. Please close the door on your way out.”
“As you wish,” he intoned, making a ridiculous bow like some courtier in a bad movie.
Once he had gone, she stuck her head out of her office. “Angela, cancel our team meeting.
We’ll reschedule for tomorrow.” She knew Gary would think she’d canceled because she was hiding with her tail between her legs. She didn’t give a damn what he thought at this point, but she wanted to wait until after his termination to talk to the rest of her team. She didn’t plan to give them too much detail, except to say Gary had been caught behaving illegally and had been terminated. If Art wanted to tell them more, that would be up to him.
Two hours passed, dragging and limping along as she tried to focus on a campaign.
Mercifully she was distracted by phone calls and emails. Finally her phone rang, Art’s name showing on the screen. “Yes?”
“Get down here, will you?” She waited, but he said no more, clicking off.
Elizabeth’s heart began an uncomfortable thump as she hurried down the hall. She entered Art’s office without knocking and stood in front of his desk, too agitated to sit.