He was out of his chair in a flash, and before I could stop him, his hands were on my blouse, undoing my buttons with speed and precision.
“Mr. Drake!”
He ripped the last button off, and I winced as the silk tore. My shirt fell open, revealing my bra, and he yanked it down off my shoulders and threw it to the floor.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not tolerate sloppiness?”
His voice was deep and dripping with menace. I tried to cover myself, but he slapped my hands away and ran his eyes over my exposed curves without a hint of embarassment.
“You represent me, Isabeau. Me! And I do not present myself in such a disgusting manner. Not to my colleages. Not to anyone.”
He leaned forward, caging me in with a hand on each side of my body. His face was just an inch from mine, his clean breath tickling my lips. What was he going to do to me?
“I… I’m sorry,” I breathed.
“Sorry’s not going to cut it, girl. You seem to have a problem remembering what my rules are. You’ve been lax. Lazy. Disheveled. I think it’s high time you were punished.”
He toyed with one of my bra straps, then slid it slowly down one shoulder. I tensed, wondering how far he would go. Fear coursed through me, but at the same time, my heart raced, my sex heating against the surface of the desk. I had to admit it, even if it was just to myself…
I wanted him.
There was something mesmerizing about him. Something forceful and dangerous. Something I couldn’t resist, even if I wanted to. And I wasn’t sure that I did.
“You need to remember who you belong to.” His voice was a low growl now as he traced the top of my br**sts with a long finger.
Was this really happening? I suppressed a moan, suppressed the desire to reach up and run my hands through his hair, to pull his mouth down to mine.
“You need a punishment you won’t soon forget.”
He backed away, and I felt his absence like a tangible thing.
“Turn around and place your hands flat on the desk.”
I gasped, looking at him in disbelief. Had I heard him right? Part of me wondered if he was going to raise my skirt, jerk my panties down around my ankles, and f**k me right then and there. And if he did, would I let him? Would I stay bent over while my billionaire boss used me for his pleasure?
My pu**y heated at the thought. A man like him wanting me was almost too much to handle.
I did as I was told and placed my palms flat on the desk, leaning over as I did so. I waited for him to grip my zipper; to rip my skirt off my body or push it up over my hips. I was ready to be his. To be possessed.
His hand came down hard on my ass, making me yell in surprise. I winced, my eyes watering from the impact. I wanted to look at Mr. Drake, to ask what he was thinking, but something kept my hands firmly on the desk, helpless beneath him.
“You’ve been very bad,” he growled.
His hand came down again with a smack that took my breath away. I mewled as the stinging washed over me, but held my place, not wanting to disappoint him.
Despite the pain, my panties were wet, my pu**y ready for him. I felt helpless and sensual and wild, like never before. Who was this Isabeau bending over for her boss? I didn’t know her, but I also didn’t want to stop feeling this way.
“You will not disobey me!”
Another blow made me yelp, then another, reddening the same spots he’d hit before, making my ass burn beneath the thin material of my skirt. I felt the bruises forming, and bit my lip, trying not to scream as his hand came down again and again. The office echoed with the sound of his hand cracking down mercilessly on my tender flesh, and my panting as I stood there and took every blow, legs shaking, pu**y glowing with need for this man.
Finally, he paused, and I felt him lift the hem of my skirt up and over my ass. I whimpered as the fabric grazed my abused skin.
“Let’s see if you’ve learned your lesson…”
I knew he must be admiring his handiwork, leaning over me, inspecting my backside, on display for him.
“Oh yes. This punishment should be a constant reminder over the next few days to behave. Every time you sit, you’ll remember this little lesson.”
His hand smoothed over my ass, clad only in my sheer, white panties. I gasped as he squeezed the bruised flesh, and felt my face burning with shame. I knew he could see the wet spot between my legs. What must he think of me?
“What is this, Isabeau?” His voice was a dangerous rumble. “I can smell your arousal from here. My nostrils are filled with it...”
His hands kneaded my ass cheeks roughly, making me moan in pain.
“Look at you. Look at this!”
His fingers forced their way past the thin cotton mesh of my underwear and dipped roughly into my wetness. I squirmed against his touch, and his hand came down on my ass again, making me burn all over.
“You little slut. You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
He spanked me again and again, all the while pumping two fingers into my tight, eager channel. I was yelling then, my body squeezing around him with each stroke. I couldn’t believe he was doing this, and what was more, I was enjoying every second. Just like he said.
“Answer me when I speak to you, Isabeau!”
Mr. Drake’s fingers increased speed, making me moan loudly into the desk.
“Are you enjoying this? Do you think this is a game?”
He spanked me harder, slamming my h*ps into the wood as he finger f**ked me. I was so close to cumming, but I tried to hold it back. I didn’t know what his reaction would be if I came undone beneath him.
“Yes!” I breathed. “I mean, no. It’s… ahhhh… it’s not a game…”
“You’re goddamn right, it’s not a game!”
Mr. Drake reached around my body and pinched my cl*t viciously. And just like that, I was cumming, wailing as my pu**y convulsed around his fingers, waves of pleasure and pain making me soar to heights I didn’t know I was capable of. He went still inside of me, his fingers filling me as I squeezed tight with each pulse, flying on wings of ecstasy.
When I finally came back down to Earth, he pulled his fingers out of me and jerked my skirt back down. I turned around, breathing hard, in time to see him wiping his hand on his silk pocketsquare, avoiding my eyes.
He opened his bottom desk drawer and threw a white dress shirt at me. One of his spares.
“Get out.”
I caught it, my brow furrowing. “Mr. Drake?”
“I said, get out.”
The dangerous tone in his voice left no room for discussion. I pulled the shirt around my shoulders and hurried out, buttoning as I went.