Bound by the Boss (BDSM Erotica)

Bound by the Boss

Come to my office at
5.30pm.
You’re
working late today.

Mr P. Evans

Violet
stared at her computer screen and rubbed at her forehead. How like him.
Direct and straight to the point.
Patrick Evans
didn’t
believe in unnecessary etiquette, she thought with a
snort. Though
she’d
only worked for him for six
months, she quickly got used to his brusque business style.

And
in a strange way, she liked it.
There was none of that awkward small talk.
No having to be
nice to her superior.
He never pretended to be friends with his
subordinates. Patrick Evans was the boss, nothing more and certainly nothing
less. He demanded punctuality, perfectionism and obedience.

Surprisingly,
Violet had found herself readily obeying her stern manager. In her three years
since graduating college,
she’d
had four jobs, three
of which had ‘let her go’ and one that she’d walked out from. In their efforts
to be her ‘friend’, her previous superiors had simply given her the excuse
to not give
a shit.
But
that was
not so with Mr Evans. For once in her life, Violet worked hard to please her
quick-tempered boss.

A tiny
curl of excitement flittered through her stomach as she eyed the clock on her
computer. 16.50. Everyone else would be leaving at 5pm and then it would just
be her and Mr Evans.

With his
broad shoulders, thick black hair and sculpted arse - oh yes,
she’d
checked that out often enough - his mere presence was
enough to send her pussy clenching with desire. He stared at her sometimes, his
dark eyes clashing with hers from under his brow and in her more hopeful
moments, she wondered if he felt the same. He
wasn’t
married and he definitely didn’t have a girlfriend, so maybe, just maybe there
was a chance for her…

With a
sigh, she flicked a look back at her computer. 16.56.
Come on.
Propping
her hand on her chin, she watched his door. Sometimes…Okay, all the time, she
imagined him throwing open that door and dragging her away from her desk for a
hard fuck. Moisture pooled between her legs. Damn, if she was only at home. She
could tear off her knickers and pound herself with her new toy.

Or
she could go out and find
herself a man for the night. It would be easy enough. With her curvy bottom and
come-hither looks, men looked at her and immediately thought of sex. A pout of
her ample lips, a flick of her chocolate hair and a bat of her blue eyes and
she could gain a partner for the evening with ease. The problem was, although
she
was attuned
with her body and could climax easily
enough, they never seemed to satisfy her and rarely lasted more than one night.
She sighed again.
What the hell
was wrong with her?

The rest
of her work colleagues began gathering up their coats and Violet realised with
a jolt that it was after 5pm. Her heart pounded against her chest. Why was she
so nervous? It
wasn’t
like she’d never been on her own
with her boss before. He often asked for her help in the office and she
treasured every one of those moments but
she’d
always
been aware of the office staff sat just outside. She giggled. That was probably
the only reason she
hadn’t
jumped his bones yet.

As a
couple of the
ladies
waved goodbye, she muttered about
working late to them and they cast her a sympathetic look. She tapped her
fingers on her desk as the last person filed out. Now what was she going to do
for half an hour?

With the
office empty, Violet glanced around and settled back into her chair. Slipping
her hand beneath her skirt, she pushed aside her lace knickers and flicked over
her folds.
Yep, soaking wet.
It was all her boss’
fault, she thought resentfully.

Blowing
out a slow breath, she circled her clit, brushing gently until it swelled
underneath her fingers. Working more vigorously, she closed her eyes and
imagined that it was Mr Evans’ strong, warm fingers instead of her own slim
ones. She imagined him kissing at her naked body, taking her nipples between
his teeth before slamming his fingers into her needy cunt.

Her body
tensed and writhed as she slid her fingers in and out before bringing them back
over her nub and rubbing furiously until a sharp, short climax overtook her.
Slowly withdrawing them, she opened her eyes and drew herself back up in her
chair. Reaching for a tissue to wipe her damp fingers, she froze as Mr Evans’
door swung open.

His dark
eyes fixed onto her. “Violet, come here.”

Looking
from her wet fingers to her boss’ stern brow, she nodded and stood. “Yes, Mr
Evans.”

She
tucked her hands behind her and as soon as he turned his back, she twisted her
hips, hoping her knickers would slide back into place.
Fuck
. If he
didn’t
smell her arousal on her fingers, then he would
definitely smell it from between her thighs.
And
she
dare not wipe her hands on her dark red dress. Mr Evans’ keen eye would surely
spot the wet marks.

Following
him into his office, a whiff of his expensive cologne washed over her as he
pressed the door shut behind her.

“Have a
seat.” He motioned to the chair.

Cheeks heating,
she lowered herself into the leather chair, crossing her legs carefully and
tucking her moist fingers into her hand. She cast a glance around the room.
Spartan and simple, it comprised of a large glass desk, black leather furniture
and a mini fridge in one corner. The office sat on the corner of the building
and faced out over the city. His one concession to interior design was an
abstract print on one wall.

Violet
tilted her head and studied it. Now she thought about it, it looked just like a
nude woman. She stared some more. God, she had sex on the brain. What was once
a tasteful print was turning into the image of a spread-eagled
woman.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to
her boss.

Mr Evans
propped himself up against his desk, his arms folded over his chest and eyed
her with a calculating look.

Violet
shifted as the warmth in her cheeks spread across her chest at his scrutiny.
Did he know? No, he
couldn’t
possibly. Yet there was
something in his expression that told her she could hide nothing from him.

He broke
the silence suddenly, making her jump. “Mr Harrison from the head office is
stopping by shortly. I need you to here to attend to him. We have a lot of
paperwork to go over. You’ll be paid double time.”

“O-of
course, Mr Evans. No problem.”
Why her?
Though it
wasn’t
unusual for him to single her out, there were surely
more efficient workers. Still, she
wouldn’t
complain.
She was broke after drifting from job to job and living in London
wasn’t
cheap. Double time would help towards this month’s
rent.

“I have
another proposition for you too.
A promotion, so to speak.”

“A
p-promotion?”

Mr Evans
pushed away from his desk and snatched at a bundle of papers. Thrusting them
into her hand, he moved around behind her. Violet stared at the papers but she
couldn’t
focus on the words, not with him so close by. Fuck,
his presence was so…so intimidating.
But
in the most
compelling way. Men might look at her and think of sex but Mr Evans made her
think of sex and a whole lot more.

His hand
came upon her shoulder and he bent over to murmur in her ear. “It’s a contract.
I’ve
watched you, Violet. I know what you want and I
know what you need. I have a knack, shall we say, for recognising those that
are naturally…accommodating. You act brash and confident but I know that’s not
the real you.”

Her
throat tightened as Mr Evans traced the shell of her ear with a finger before
trailing across her collarbone. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You
want me to fuck you,” he stated simply.

“No!”

He
chuckled in her ear and she realised it was the first time
she’d
ever heard him laugh. God, this was so humiliating. Mr Evans’ hand pressed more
persistently, levering her dress away from her chest and exposing her to his
gaze.

“Your
nipples are tight and rosy and begging for my mouth.”

Violet
gasped.

“You
want me to fuck you.”

A hand
closed over her breast and she released a moan. Oh, what was the point in
lying? She wanted him badly. It had to be the worst idea in the world, sleeping
with the boss, but
at the moment
she didn’t give a
shit.

He
pulled his hand out of her dress abruptly. “Look at the contract, Violet.”

Blinking,
she stared at the writing in front of her as he circled around and positioned
himself back on the edge of the desk.
Agreements, blah, blah, blah,
employment rights etc. Contract between Patrick Evans hereafter known as the
…Her
eyes widened…
Master?
She glanced up at Mr Evans and he nodded towards
the paper.

“Keep
reading.”

Violet
Johnson, hereafter known as the Slave?
What the hell?

“You’ll
find the terms quite agreeable, Violet. A pay rise, use of the company’s
private jet and holiday accommodation…”

“Wait.
Mr Evan’s, am I right in thinking that you want to have sex with me?”

“Not
just sex.”

She
bristled. “I’m not a
whore,
you don’t need to pay me
for sex. I would have fucked you anyway but I don’t want to be paid.” She
stood. “In fact, I think I’d rather forget the idea now.”

“Sit,”
he barked.

Violet
flinched at his sharp tone and immediately sat. She gaped up at the commanding man,
her body alive with conflicting emotions. She wanted to fuck him, she really
did, but she
didn’t
want to be brought. She wanted him
to need her, to crave her
like
she did him, not pay
her for a quick fuck.

“What I
want, Miss
Johnson,
is more than just sex. I want your
complete and utter obedience.
And
I am not paying you
to have sex with me. I could take that from you quite easily, but I will not
have my slave struggling to pay her rent and living off cheap ready-meals. I
want you healthy and relaxed so you can pay your full attention to servicing
your master.”

Licking
at her dry lips, Violet gaped at him. “You…you want to dominate me?”

“Yes,
you could say that. You are submissive, Violet, even if you haven’t realised it
yet.”

She
shook her head. “I’m not. I always take the lead. I always have.”

A wry
smile tugged across his strong jaw.
“Because your partners
have let you.
They’re
too weak and grateful to
have you in their bed. You need to a strong partner to treat you properly.” He
lowered his voice. “Like a cock-hungry slut.”

Her eyes
widened at his crude words but she
couldn’t
ignore the
pulse of her pussy. Was he right? Was this what
she’d
been missing? No, it
couldn’t
be. She
didn’t
like pain. Violet had never tried BDSM but
she’d
read enough erotica to know that it involved spanking
and nipple clamps and stuff.