A Very Corporate Affair Book 2 (The Corporate Series) (9 page)

 
              "Don't be silly, I don't need that, I didn't buy that much, and besides, I just got paid." I didn't have to send money to my mum anymore either, but I kept quiet about that.

 
              "I like treating you. I want you to have the best of everything. I don't know why you are so resistant to that."

 
              I thought about my conversation with Paul. "I appreciate the things you give me, but I also appreciate the things I work hard for. Allow me to have that, please."

 
              "Hmm. So what are you up to tonight? Would you like to go out to dinner?"

 
              I thought about the tragic little lasagne in the fridge, waiting to be heated up, and replied, "that sounds lovely. Where shall we go?"

 
              "Why don't you call your new concierge service that I bought for you today, and get them to book somewhere nice? I emailed you the details. I'll pick you up at half seven. Is that ok?"

 
              I opened my laptop, and found the email. "Ivan, that's brilliant. I'll give them a call. See you in a bit."

Quintessentially yours proved to be extremely knowledgeable regarding restaurants, and quickly booked me a table at Quaglinos, before emailing me a confirmation and directions.
How useful is that?
I quickly showered, and pulled on my new black lace bra and thong set, before choosing one of my new dresses to wear.

             
Thankfully, my legs were still brown from my application of St Tropez on Saturday, so I didn't have to bother with tights. I looked in the mirror to check my appearance. I looked expensively stylish in the dress, but still sad around the eyes. I added a touch more mascara, and grabbed my handbag as the buzzer sounded to let me know that the car was downstairs.

 
              Quaglinos was delightful. Ivan was pleased that his security could be seated at the huge bar, just a few steps away, and we both loved the food. He told me about his day, which had sounded quite tedious, concerned mainly with admin details and staffing issues, and I told him about my shopping trip. I decided it was best to tell him I bumped into Paul Lassiter, as I had nothing to hide, and Paul was a client.

 
              "He took his sister Saturday night. Said he doesn't date, which is odd isn't it?"

 
              "He's a rather strange man. Pleads poverty the whole time, but he's filthy rich." Ivan said.

 
              "Are you sure? He doesn't look it, or sound it. His office is very basic too."

 
              "Yes, I'm sure. I think he just doesn't like to spend it. Did he make a move on you?"

 
              "No," I shook my head, "he's friendly, but not overly enamoured I don't think. I got the impression that he has issues with women, although I'm not sure why."

 
              "You think he's gay?"

 
              "No, not gay, just, oh I don't know, like one of those men who likes to have contractual sex relationships only. That sort of thing. Don't worry, he didn't proposition me."

 
              Ivan laughed, "I'm sure he values his testicles too much to ask you to become his sex slave. I, on the other hand, am a reckless man, with a security team two steps away." He smiled his dazzling smile at me, which made me laugh.

 
              "You want me to be your sex slave?"

 
              "It would fulfil every adolescent sex fantasy I ever wanked to. So yes, I would dearly love to make you my slave."

 
              "I'd have to see the job description first," I flirted.

 
              "It would involve taking every bit of pleasure I could possibly throw at you, orgasming frequently, and allowing me carte Blanche to fuck you in every way known to man." Ivan was using his phone sex voice. My belly squeezed. "I would begin with a quick fuck in the car on the way home, then I'd tie you to my sex swing, and fuck you nonstop for three orgasms."

 
              "Get the bill." I replied, feeling hot and flustered. Ivan gestured to the waiter to bring the bill.

 
              "Go to the ladies, and take your knickers off. Put them in your handbag, and come out with your pussy bare," he purred, "I'll meet you back here." I did as he asked, tucking the tiny triangle of lace into my bag. I rejoined him at the table.

 
              "Now, give me your knickers please," Ivan said. I handed him the tiny folded triangle with a puzzled look. He held them to his face, and inhaled before tucking them in his pocket. I glanced around in panic to see if anyone was watching, but people seemed to be focused on their food, and their own companions. Ivan's eyes glittered as he watched me, amused at my horrified look. "You smell so good, I can't wait to eat you."

 
              "You are so....naughty at times," I admonished him, "what if someone saw that?"

 
              "Oh, that's half the fun. Now, shall we go?"

 
              I had to walk the whole length of the restaurant with Ivan's hand against the small of my back, which was heating up rapidly. My clitoris began to pulse as the knowledge of what was to come caused it to swell and twitch. I had to stop myself dragging Ivan out of the door when he stopped to chat to someone he knew, my frustration building with every passing moment. After a few minutes of business talk, he gave me an amused look, before telling his acquaintance that we had better be going. I was relieved, as by then my nipples were like bullets, and my legs were getting a bit wobbly.

 
              As soon as we were in the car, he slid the privacy screen up, and undid his trousers to reveal a solid erection, reined in by his tight jersey boxers. I was so horny by then, I could have happily ripped them off with my teeth. He quickly unrolled a condom over himself, and pulled me to straddle him, making me pause slightly for him to stare at me with my dress around my waist, before impaling me on his large dick.

 
              I rode him hard, revelling in the feel of his large cock repeatedly hitting my g spot. I grasped the headrest to allow myself to lean back slightly and change the angle of my ascent, increasing the pressure on the deepest, most sensitive part of me. I carried on riding him right through my orgasm, which seemed to make it go on and on, until his hands pulled my hips down and held them still, as he tipped over the edge himself.

 
              I watched him come, his beautiful face tightened into a slight scowl, before softening as he let go. I caught a moment of vulnerability, but it was fleeting, replaced by a smile, and a soft kiss. 

 
              "You can stop driving now," Ivan said into the intercom. I blushed. I hadn't realised we'd been driving around the block. I lifted myself off him, and smoothed my dress down, as he wrapped the condom in a napkin, and tucked himself back into his trousers.

 
              He practically dragged me into the flat, before kissing me deeply inside the front hall, while the girls tapped and pawed at him for attention. "Not now girls, go play with your toys," he muttered, before leading me upstairs. "Do you trust me enough to be my sex slave tonight?"

 
              I nodded, my earlier orgasm had only served to whet my appetite. I had an almost unbearable tension building inside me, that I needed him to release. I expected him to lead me to his bedroom, but he surprised me by taking me to one of the spare rooms further down the hall, which I hadn't been in before. He pulled me in, and closed the door, before switching the light on.

 
              The room was large, fairly bare, save for an enormous bed against the centre of the right hand wall, a swing suspended from the ceiling, and a large cabinet against the right hand wall. "This, my darling, is my pleasure room, and you are cordially invited to join me here tonight." He grasped my hand, and led me into the room, before stopping and giving me a deep, lush kiss, his hands holding the sides of my head, keeping me still. He pulled back, and gazed into my eyes, as if seeking permission. I smiled, and kissed him back, my hands running over his chest, and over his abs, till I reached his waistband. "Let me get you naked, and help you into the swing," he said, "nothing will hurt, I promise. This is all for pleasure." He unzipped my dress, and peeled it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. I stepped out of it, and stood in just my shoes and bra. He reached round and unclasped it, letting it drop on top of my dress. He ran his hands reverently over my breasts, lingering on my peaked nipples, before dipping down to take one in his mouth, and sucking hard. I cried out, arching my back to release the exquisite pressure of his mouth on my breast. I had a brief respite while he moved to give the other nipple the same attention. His hand slid between my legs, and he murmured, "you're soaked, I really like that. I can't wait to taste it. Come, let's get you into the swing."

 
              At first glance, it looked like an impossibly complex contraption, but Ivan showed me where to sit, and lay back into the sling. Even with the stirrups cuffed around my ankles, it was surprisingly comfortable. Ivan cuffed my wrists to the swing, around my ears, using soft leather shackles, and there I lay, fully exposed, and totally helpless.

  
              Ivan began to slowly undress, almost teasing me, all the time watching my reactions, and gazing at my exposed body. "You look so lovely like that darling, every bit of you is mine tonight, and I'm going to give you the best fuck of your life." I almost came there and then. When he was naked, he wandered over to the cabinet, and opened one side to reveal an iPod player. He pressed a button on the remote, and a techno beat, with a deep base began to play. He picked up another remote and pointed it at the ceiling. I felt my legs begin to rise, followed by my body. When I was at his shoulder level, with my legs pulled up, and apart, he stopped the device. I was totally exposed to him, and at his mercy.

 
              He gently stroked my inner thighs, running his index fingers up and down, igniting tiny trails with just his touch. He began to press tiny kisses where his fingers had been, before pressing a featherlight kiss on my clitoris. I convulsed at the contact. He grasped my thighs to keep the swing still, and began with the softest, lightest licks, lapping at me, tasting my arousal, before lightly sucking in my clit. I cried out. With everything held immobile, I seemed to have no way of controlling my pleasure, I couldn't close my legs, or move in any way. I just had to give in, and come hard, all over his face. He lapped as I pulsed and clenched with my orgasm, before finally coming up for air.

  I could see his face glistening wet in the low light, and he wiped it with his hand, before using the remote to lower the swing to hip height. At the cabinet, he slid on a condom, before grabbing a vibrator, and thrusting his huge cock straight into me. Using the motion of the swing, he slammed into me again and again, fucking me without mercy, pulling right out to the tip, before slamming back in, all the way to the root. The wide crest of his cock was bumping repeatedly over my g spot, building a huge deep orgasm inside, which threatened to tear me apart.

                With one hand gripping my thighs, keeping the rhythm going, he clicked the vibrator on with the other, and pressed it against my clit while he carried on pounding me. I tried to absorb the pleasure, but it rapidly pushed me over the edge, and I detonated with a scream, pulsing helplessly around his huge cock, and not wanting the torture to end. My orgasm didn't even subside. As Ivan continued to hammer into me, I came again and again, till they were just rolling through me. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably, and all I could do was give myself over to the intense sensations.

 
              Ivan came with a shout. He was dripping with sweat, as he pressed into me, stilling as he poured himself inside me. I could feel his cock twitching and jerking, as he shuddered with the aftershocks. He smiled a triumphant smile before pulling out, quickly releasing me from the shackles, and helping me down.

 
              We both staggered bonelessly over to the large bed, flopping down side by side. "That was amazing," I said, "I didn't even know my body was capable of that many orgasms."

  "What's your name?" Ivan asked.

  "Can't remember," I replied.

 
              I woke early the next morning, and stretched my aching body, feeling as stiff as a board, and completely wrung out. Nicking a bathrobe from the back of the bathroom door, I headed down to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Neither Ivan, nor either of the dogs even stirred. I decided to forego the gym, and go straight to my meeting at The Strand, where I'd be sitting in on a negotiation for the acquisition of a publishing company. I had to be there at nine thirty, so it would be quite a leisurely morning. I calculated that I needed to be home by half seven to get ready, so had plenty of time to relax. I took my tea out to the terrace, and sat watching the boats chugging past.

 
              Ivan and the dogs appeared about half an hour later, the dogs racing down to the far end of the terrace, where Ivan explained, there was a square of grass planted, which acted as a sort of indoor/outdoor loo for them. He laughed when I wrinkled my nose, explaining it was far better than going down to the ground floor with a security team if one of them needed a wee in the middle of the night.

 
              "So did you enjoy my version of wild sex last night?" Ivan asked. He looked a little nervous.

 
              "Of course I did," I replied, "I can truthfully say it was the best sex I've ever had." He looked extremely pleased with himself. "I'm as stiff as a board now though." He patted my hand affectionately.

 
              "Would you consider something for me?" I nodded in reply. "Would you get checked for sexual health, as will I, and we ditch the condoms? I take it you're on birth control?"

 
              "I had a shot on Saturday. It takes a week to take effect. I think as long as both of us are checked, then yes,  I could do that."

 
              "I'll arrange it for after work today." Ivan looked happy.

 
              Back at the flat, I soothed my aching muscles with a long, hot shower, and got myself ready. Directly after the negotiation meeting, I had arranged lunch with Joan Lester, over in the West End, then it would be back to the office to hopefully draft a contract for the publishing acquisition. I slicked on some lipstick and waited for Roger to buzz for me.

 
              Justine Moran was a woman I could definitely admire. She had built her publishing company from scratch to become a major player in cookery and lifestyle books. With four of the top ten bestselling titles in her stable, she was cash rich, and looking to expand. We were meeting the owner of a small publishing house which specialised in niche books for the catering industry, and cookery schools. Justin's explained that by combining the two catalogues, there would be scope for cross-selling, and also author collaboration.

 
              At nine thirty prompt, a short, fat man arrived, and was introduced as Daniel Fielding. He was the owner of Field and Mortimer publishing, the company Justine hoped to buy. We sat down in her office, where I was introduced. I seemed to make him nervous, as he asked Justine why she needed her lawyer present.

 
              "I'll be drawing up the contract of sale, so it's far easier if I sit in on your meeting," I explained.

 
              "Surely we just tell you how much, and what's included, and it's straightforward?" Daniel said, frowning.

 
              "Yes, of course, but sometimes details can be overlooked, and my job is to ensure that they're not." I smiled as I spoke, trying to reassure him. He didn't look comfortable. Justine opened the negotiations, and between them, they worked out exactly what was included in the sale. As Justine didn't need his premises, it mainly came down to his catalogue and copyrights, which Daniel seemed to want a vast amount of money for. I cringed slightly when he maintained that he still wanted income from the copyrights, even though he was selling them. Basically, he wanted a large sum of money for giving up nothing, and I could see Justine getting frustrated too. I prompted a break, ostensibly so Justine and I could check some figures, and while Daniel went outside for a cigarette, I gave her a hard stare.

 
              "The man's a pillock. Wants you to give him half a mill, and keep hold of the royalties. There's no way you can agree to that. His profit for the last three years has never even gone above a hundred grand. This is not a good deal in any way, and I'd urge you strongly to pull out. The company is not worth half a mill, let alone providing a residual income."

 
              "I know, but there are two authors in his stable who I want in mine. This seemed to be the best way to get them."

 
              "Have you tried luring them? A lot cheaper than paying off this idiot for evermore." I countered.

 
              "I tried once, both said no. Said they were happy where they were."

 
              "So try again, dangle a hefty golden hello in front of their noses, everyone has a price. Start with fifty grand each, and go up. Still a hell of a lot cheaper than this deal. Easier going forward too. Are they on a contract do you know? A five book deal or anything?"

 
              She shook her head. "No, there was nothing to stop them apart from a misplaced sense of loyalty."

 
              "Ok. As your lawyer, I'd advise you against this deal. I could also approach these two authors for you, and negotiate a deal with each."

 
              "Ok Elle, let’s do this your way."

 
              Daniel did not look happy when Justine pulled out of the deal. She explained that she couldn't offer more than two years profit, and no further royalties. Daniel huffed and puffed, telling her what a valuable opportunity she was missing, but still maintaining that he would want income for evermore. By eleven, it was clear there was no deal happening, and he left disappointed. I took the contact details of the two authors, and left for the West End, calling each of them on the way to set up dinner, and sound them out.

 
              Lunch with Joan was a blast. She wanted to acquire an ailing magazine, and revamp it. The current owners were desperate to sell, and were happy to let it go for a song, and guaranteed jobs for their staff. My job would be to prepare a contract of sale, dot the i's and cross the t's. All pretty straightforward. In the meantime, she wanted to know about Ivan.

 
              I found out that they had met several times before, at various functions, and she thought he was the most charismatic man on the planet. She pumped me for information like a goofy fangirl.

 
              "What's he like as a person? I mean, is he fun to be with?"

 
              "He's a lot of fun, and surprisingly nice. A gentleman really." I thought about him tickling Bella that morning, her fat tummy presented to him, and a look of pure happiness on her face.

 
              "So how do you cope with every woman he meets swooning over him? I mean, there's not many men that good looking and rich. Do you worry that he'll stray?"

 
              I frowned, "No. Why would I spend my time worrying about that? If he wants someone else, then it would mean that he wasn't into me, and we should go our separate ways. All the time we're happy together, I'm not going to concern myself."

 
              "He's been called a control freak. Do you find him controlling?" The moment she asked me that question, I twigged.

 
              "Joan, why are you interviewing me?" She had the grace to blush.

 
              "We are printing a story by Dascha Meranov next month. She's claiming he made her life hell, and it took Dascha several years to escape his clutches. I wanted your take on it."

 
              "I'm not at liberty to discuss Ivan's private affairs, and I don't know the story of him and Dascha. You need to go through his press agent. Now, do you really want me to handle this contract, or was it just a ploy to get me here?"

 
              "I thought it was the best way to get you talking, but if we do acquire any other titles, I'll definitely call on you."
Fucking time waster.

              "Ok Joan. I'm going to leave, as I have a very busy schedule, and I don't take kindly to my time being wasted like this. You'll receive my bill for one hour of consultation in the post. Good day." I grabbed my bag, and walked out. As soon as I was in the car, I called Ivan, and told him what had happened. To my surprise, he seemed to find it funny.

 
              "Very inventive of her. Glad you twigged so quickly, just a shame you didn't get the chance to tell her what a sex god I am. I wouldn't mind that being printed."

 
              "I thought it was appalling, and god only knows what Dascha will say about you. Can't we slap an injunction on this?"

 
              "Elle, the only opinion I care about is yours, and as long as you don't think I'm a cruel or heartless man, then whatever anyone else says doesn't matter."

 
              "Your reputation does matter. People do business with you. Plus I don't really want anyone to assume I'm happily dating a sadist."

 
              He sighed, " alright, if it makes you happy I'll alert my PR, but I know full well they're going to want us to do a cheesy 'at home' type spread in Hello, which I'd rather avoid. Plus it would have implications for your security, so you might want to give that some thought."

 
              "I hadn't thought of that. Just talk to your PR, and see what they say. I'd rather throw down an injunction personally."

 
              "Ok. Talk to you later." He rang off. I sank back in my seat, trying to relax, and throw off my irritation. Within 30 seconds, my phone rang again. It was the police, telling me they had the preliminary findings of the post mortem on mum. It had been an aneurysm in her brain, probably killing her almost instantly. The copper sounded sympathetic, assuring me that they had no suspicions of foul play. He estimated that it would take at least another week or so until her body would be released for a funeral, but as soon as I received the coroner’s report, which had been posted, I could register her death. I thanked him for his help, and ended the call.

 
              It felt strange calling mum's phone, but Ray picked up straightaway. No doubt mum had the better phone, or there was still some credit on it, so he was now using it. I told him about the call from the police, and enquired how many people would be coming to the funeral.

 
              "At least 50 I should think. She was popular on the estate, people are devastated about what happened. I asked the landlord of the Guy Earl of Warwick if we could have the wake there. He said it'd be fine, he'll even lay on sandwiches, if you want them that is."

 
              "That sounds fine. I'll organise all the paperwork, and undertaker, and let you know when it is. Did you sort out the tenancy of the flat?"

 
              "I did. I'm really grateful to you for that Elle, tenancies are like gold dust, and this is a great flat, one of the best," I cringed, "are you sure you don't want any of the furniture?"

 
              "You keep it Ray, I haven't got room for it. Can you organise invites then? Once I set the date, and we keep it to fifty people only yeah? I don't want a huge bar bill."

 
              "Make it a paid bar, otherwise they'll drink it dry," double cringe, "you know what the greedy bastards are like."
I know what a greedy pig you'd be.

 
              "Ok. I'll call you when I know more."

 
              Back at the office, I briefed Lewis on my rather disastrous morning, and booked Friday afternoon off to travel to Woolwich to register mum's death, and visit the undertaker. I called the Co-op funeral service in Welling, and booked an appointment.

 
              After making myself a coffee, I settled myself in my office, and began working my way through the dozens of emails that had arrived that morning, answering them methodically. I was pleased to see that the float had been publicised, and initial expressions of interest were being collected from institutional investors. I forwarded the email to Steve Robbins, to keep him in the loop, adding some notes of my own. With no work from Ivan, Paul's project in hand, and Mr Carey handling the work for Goldings, I found myself at a bit of a loose end. I decided to research the two authors that Justine was trying to poach.

Both appeared to have had very minor success with books on baking, and bread making. Neither seemed to be well marketed, or have a great web pres
ence. I looked the first up on Amazon, and his ranking was 450000th in the list. Idly, I wondered how many books per week that equated to. I doubted if it was enough to justify a vast advance. Puzzled, I called Justine to ask why she felt these authors were so valuable. She explained that they had both written textbooks used in cookery schools, which were sold direct, and so had no bearing on their Amazon rankings. It still didn't ring quite right, but I accepted her explanation and informed her that I was meeting them both separately the following week. She authorised me to offer up to £75k each as a golden hello, should they agree to jump ship to Justine's company. Thankfully, neither writer had a literary agent to complicate matters, so I was fairly confident.