Authors: Adriana Hunter
“Good.” He smiled, then slid her panties
off. “No,” he murmured when she tried to close her legs. “I want to see you.”
Pressing her palms hard against the desk,
she held her breath as he spread her legs wide, exposing her most private area
to his gaze. Her legs trembled as she fought against the impulse to snap them
shut—she’d had sex before, but the few encounters had been sloppy and
quick. She had little experience with foreplay.
“Beautiful.” His fingers gently stroked
her dark blond curls, sending her muscles aquiver for different reasons now.
They moved down to her lips, and she could feel her core heat. “Already wet. By
the time we’re done tonight you’ll be dripping for me. Begging for me. Do you
want that?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” He lifted a black, lacy thong out
of the box, then clipped a small device to the inside of it before sliding it
up her legs. He adjusted the string around her hips and squeezed her ass cheeks
lightly, his fingers digging in and massaging. She could feel the cold metal of
the device right up against her clitoris. “You’re wearing a remote-controlled
vibrator right now,” he explained, holding up a small, black remote to prove
his words. “You’ll keep it on at all times when you are wearing clothing, even
when you are not with me.”
“All the time?” When he arched an
eyebrow, she lowered her eyes. “I mean, yes, of course.”’
He lifted her chin with the tip of a
single finger. “That means when you’re at home on the couch, watching TV, or sitting
at the front desk answering phones at work. It will serve as a constant
reminder, so that you’re always thinking of me, always ready for me. Do you
understand?”
“Yes,” she said, a breathless note to her
voice this time at the images he was putting into her head.
“Very good.” Removing his hands from her
hips, he brought them up to her blouse and undid the buttons. Her blouse and
bra went fluttering to the floor where her skirt lay, and she bit her lip as he
slid his warm palms beneath her breasts, hefting them in each hands. She gasped
when he tweaked her nipples, then licked her lips when he pulled a column of
fluid black silk from the box and slipped it over her head.
“Stand up.” She did as he asked, and he
smoothed the dress over her hips, her thighs, the curve of her ass. It was a
little black dress with a short, ruffled skirt that barely reached the end of
her fingertips when she let her arms hang to the sides
There was enough support built into the
bodice to accentuate and lift her breasts and so she tried not to be worried
about the fact that it was strapless. Altogether it showed off far more of her
skin than she’d ever done before.
“Gorgeous.” He came around behind her,
his fingers sliding against the column of her neck as he fastened a black onyx
choker around it, then fixed a matching pair of dangling earrings in her lobes.
Each touch was like a brand, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Her attention
was so completely fixated on what he was doing that her knees buckled when the
vibrator suddenly sprang to life, pulsing against her clit and sending
bone-melting sensation through her body. A small cry escaped her lips as he
hauled her up against him, and she could feel his erection pressing up against
the curve of her ass.
“Now, now,” he murmured, his lips
touching her earlobe. “I can’t have you doing that in public. People will
wonder what’s wrong, and what will you tell them?”
Her cheeks burned at the thought. “W-will
we be g-going to a place with lots of people?” she managed, though it was incredibly
hard to formulate words with the vibrator still vibrating against her clit. She
tried to lock her knees so that she wouldn’t fall over when he let her go.
He chuckled. “Katherine, we’re going to a
soiree. There is going to be a fundraiser tonight for a political campaign, and
because I’m on the board I’m required to be there. I’m taking you as my date.”
“A fundraising soiree?” a laugh bubbled
out of her, surprising her as the rebellious part of her rose up. “Awfully…
strange place for… a first date...” she ended on a gasp, squeezing her legs
together tightly as the pleasure built. She was so close to coming, she was
certain she would go over the edge in just a few seconds.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he wagged a finger as he bit
down sharply on her earlobe, the stinging pain an admonishment. The vibrator
shut off and she sagged, both relief and frustration sinking through her.
“Another rule. You aren’t allowed to come unless I give you permission.”
Katherine bit back a groan. How was she
going to last the night? They hadn’t even left yet and she was already dripping
wet and on the verge of begging. She bit the inside of her cheek to try and get
a handle on herself. “Yes, Mr. Donaldson.”
“In private you must call me Master.” He
pinched her bottom through her dress, making her jump. “In public, when we’re
with other people, you may call me Mark.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good.” He took her arm in his. “Our
carriage awaits.”
Their ‘carriage’ was a black stretch
Lincoln limousine with a fully-stocked bar and seats that stretched along the
sides of the limo’s interior rather than facing forward. Katherine wondered if
the driver who held the door open noticed her flushed face or stiffened
nipples—his expression was polite yet unfathomable, so she couldn’t tell
what he thought of her. She was certain she didn’t look like any of the women
he normally took around in this limo. She was too short, and not skinny enough.
His phone rang almost immediately when
they got into the limo and after glancing at the screen, made his apologies to
her before answering it. She sat across from him, her eyes restlessly drifting
across the interior as well as the view outside, but inevitably coming back to
the tiny bulge in his pants pocket where she knew the remote lay. She could
feel the metal of the vibrator pressed intimately against her still, and try as
she might it was impossible to relax—the knowledge that he could turn it
on kept her in a mixture of dread and anticipation.
They arrived at their destination—a
Hilton—and took the elevator up to the hall where the soiree was being
hosted. The hall—tastefully decorated with gold and silver ribbons,
flowers and balloons—was packed with people dressed in evening finery and
holding champagne glasses while they sat at round tables draped in white table
cloths set with candle and flower centerpieces. A band was playing soft,
tasteful music up on the stage, and the banners clearly proclaimed the
fundraiser and its message.
Mark snagged a champagne flute from a
passing waiter’s tray and handed it to her. “Drink some of this, and relax.
You’re so tense you feel like a wooden board pressed up against my side.”
Katherine flushed as she took the glass
from him and took a breath, trying to release the tension in her muscles. The
task was made more difficult when he placed his hand at the small of her back,
rubbing up and down gently—she knew he was trying to soothe her but his
touch only heated her more. Placing the cool rim of the champagne flute to her
lips, she allowed the bubbly liquid to slide down her throat, filling her with
warmth. The knot of tension in her stomach eased slightly.
“Thank you,” she murmured, then thought
to add, “Master.”
Smiling, he kissed the top of her head,
then took her arm again and led her through the crowds of people, stopping by
tables as well as clusters of people standing to talk. She was introduced to
businessmen, politicians, even a few celebrities, and though initially she was
a little flustered she found herself getting into the rhythm of things,
learning to give and receive polite introductions, make small talk, take and
give compliments. She couldn’t quite hold back the blushes on the many
compliments she was given, either directly or indirectly when one of the men or
women spoke to Mark and ask where he’d managed to find her. She wasn’t certain
if they were being polite, or if they really meant it, but with Mark’s arm
around her and the constant smiles he flashed her it didn’t matter.
Eventually dinner was served, and they
sat at a table with several other patrons. As introductions were passed around
she realized they were board members of the charity, just like he.
“Who is your friend, Mark?” a woman with
silver hair dressed in a trim navy suit asked. Despite the color of her hair
there was not a wrinkle on her face, and her dark eyes were warm, but
vigorously alert.
“This is Katherine, my assistant,” Mark
told her, and Katherine had to fight to keep her eyebrows from rising. She
supposed it would be rather awkward for Mark to introduce her as his
receptionist, since he would have no reason to bring her to a social function
otherwise. At least as his assistant she had a reason for being there with him.
“Katherine, this is Emily Sandoval. She is the Chairman of the Board.”
“Very nice to meet you.” Katherine held
out her hand and exchanged a firm handshake with the woman.
“Likewise.” Emily turned back to Mark.
“So you finally got rid of that greasy stick, did you?”
“Fred is still around,” Mark said as
Katherine’s lips twitched. “Katherine assists me in… other capacities.”
Katherine’s eyes dropped to her plate as
she suddenly became very interested in her meal—she knew she would blush
if Emily met her eyes. Thankfully the woman was content to converse with Mark,
and paid Katherine no mind. She was just beginning to relax again, having
finished a second glass of champagne and a good portion of the food on her
plate, when Mark’s fingers gently slid up the hem of her dress, fingers gliding
along her inner thigh. Breath caught in her throat, she glanced over at him,
but his attention was firmly fixed on Emily.
Wondering if she was imagining things,
she dared a glance beneath the table, and saw his fingers curled around her leg
for an instant before his grip tightened subtly. His eyes were still fixed on
Emily as he conversed with her and other board members at the table, but the
message was clear; he didn’t want her drawing attention to herself, or what he
was doing with her.
“So how is it that you’ve come to work
for Mark, Katherine?” one of the other board members, a man in his forties leaned
in to ask her.
“Oh! I… uh…” the pad of his thumb began
massaging the inside of her leg in slow circles, and she had to fight to
marshal her thoughts as the man led her into a conversation. It was everything
she could do to keep her voice steady, and though she considered slapping at
his hand or kicking him underneath the table, she had the feeling that would
violate the rules of the game.
Eventually they had a moment of silence
in which no one was talking with them, and she leaned over to whisper in Mark’s
ear. “You’re tormenting me.”
“Just a taste of what’s to come,
darling,” he murmured back.
She stiffened as the vibrator hummed
against her clit, and at the same time the lights dimmed and Emily ascended to
the podium to make her opening speech for the fundraiser. Chuckling, Mark
stroked her back briefly as everyone clapped—Katherine would have joined
in but her hands were gripping the sides of the chair for dear life.
“Remember,” he whispered wickedly in her
ear, “you can’t come unless I say so.”
The fundraising dinner lasted an hour and
a half, and it was the longest hour and a half she’d ever lived through. Mark
didn’t keep the vibrator on the entire time, but would turn it on and off at
random intervals, keeping her on her toes so that she never knew when it was
going to hit her. Sometimes it was when someone was talking up on the podium
and no one was paying attention to her; other times it was when someone was
talking to her, or even when she was mid-sentence—those were the most
mortifying. By the end of the fundraiser she was in a state of such heightened
need she could barely walk, and clung to Mark’s arm for dear life as he
escorted her out and into the limo.
“Please, Master,” she told him once they
were safely inside and the car was moving. “I can’t take this anymore.”
He only smiled and crooked a finger,
beckoning to her. “Come and sit in my lap.”
She scrambled to obey, and he positioned
her so that she was straddling his lap. His erection pressed right up against
her panties, and she whimpered.
“Uh-uh.” He gripped her hips tightly when
she began rubbing herself against him, forcing her to stop. “if you do that,
you’re going to come. I didn’t say you could come yet.”
“When will you let me?” she asked
breathlessly. “Please, I want to.”
“I know.” He framed her face with his big
hands so that she was staring up into his deep brown eyes. They were darkly
seductive, beckoning with hot promise, and they filled her vision so that she
felt as though she were drowning in them. His thumb stroked her lower lip
gently. “But I haven’t kissed you yet, Katherine. I haven’t tasted that
luscious mouth of yours.”
Katherine blinked. “You haven’t.” She’d
not dwelled on it, but now that he mentioned it seemed absurd. She’d shown him
the most private areas of her body, allowed him to touch her, and he’d never
even kissed her. Her heart pounded as he angled her head properly, then pressed
his lips firmly against hers. He seduced with soft, tender kisses, tiny nips
that sent shivers down her spine, and strokes of his tongue that had her
opening her mouth willingly. He slid his tongue in and out, rubbing it against
her own tongue and the roof of her mouth, and the motion was overtly sexual,
mimicking the act. He nipped her tongue between his teeth and sucked on it,
enticing a moan from her.