His Want (3 page)

Mr. Black started to stand from his chair.  Even against the massive desk, he looked big and strong.  He looked radiant and confident.  The window behind his desk had just the right amount of sun coming through it that it silhouetted around him. 

“And if there’s something I need,” he said in a softer voice, “well, I always get what I want and I always have what I need.”

He started to walk along his desk.  I followed the lines of his face, holding the image of his defined jaw in my memory, wishing my tongue could have the chance to taste him. 

“Do you know how I handle my wants and needs?”

He turned and looked at me.

“Isabella Grace…”

Hearing the name again had the same results as before.  My body felt like mush, my grip on the chair hadn’t let go.

“How?” I asked.

Jonathan Black looked away from me.  He finished his walk to the end of his desk and then around it.  Just as I had fantasized, he stopped in front of me and leaned on his desk.  He placed his hands in his pockets.  Clothed yet exposed to me.  I respected the move.  Most men would cross their arms.  Jonathan, with his hands in his pockets, sent a signal of no fear.  Of domination in all situations… maybe even domination of me.

His eyes met mine again.  He was serious and in control.  “My command, Isabella Grace.  My command.  I speak, the world listens.”

I nodded.

“The really good people already know what I need and are there. 
Like you,
Isabella Grace.  Like you.  You were there, waiting for three days, weren’t you?  You were there, waiting for me to get on that elevator.  You were there, inside, hoping I’d speak to you.  Hoping I’d touch you.  So now you are mine… under my command…”

I nodded again.

At that point, my mind didn’t actually comprehend everything Jonathan Black was saying.  The talk of
command
only registered the idea of being at work, being in the office.  Sure, I had sexual fantasies running rampant in my mind but I did my best focus. 

He took a hand from his pocket and touched my face.  His fingers touched near the back of my head, liberally slipping into my hair.  He curled his fingers, digging into me as his warm palm lay flat on my neck and his thumb rubbed my cheek. 

“I can smell your desire and innocence,” he whispered.  “Such an interesting combination.  You’ve been waiting for me, Isabella Grace, and I’ve been watching you.  Studying you.  Trying to know if you could be under my command.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I said. 

It was my last chance at having any sort of control.

Almost instantly Jonathan Black’s hand gripped tight on my neck. 

I gasped for air and blinked furiously. 

I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me.

Maybe he liked pain.  Maybe he liked seeing people in fear.

“You’re under my command.  I need someone directly under me.  I’m tired, Isabella Grace, tired of inconsistencies in my life and my company.  Someone needs to be perfect, here, for me.  Someone needs my command to see the right way.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Let’s see if you understand.” 

I didn’t understand how he could speak so effortlessly.  My mouth kept running dry and as he pulled at me, wanting me to stand, it took me a few seconds to find not only the strength in my legs but also the feeling in them.  I pushed myself up and stood before him, looking up at him.  Being that close finally confirmed our height difference.  My head would have nestled perfectly into his hard chest… maybe that day would come.

With his hand still on my neck, his gripped loosened a little.  His other hand touched me at my lower back, his fingers aggressively pulling at my shirt, going under it.  He pulled me in, forcing my lower half against his. 

My body relaxed and succumbed to him. 

I could feel his thickness pressing, moving and throbbing, still growing.

He put his lips to my ears and let out a breath. 

“I am your only desire, Isabella Grace.  And you are under my command.”  He thrust himself at me, rubbing hard against my tender, still clothed body.  “You will do as I say, when I say.  A second of hesitation will cost you everything.  I know more than you care to understand or need to know.”  His thumb dug into my cheek just a little too hard.  I moaned because within the small pings of pain there were pulses of pleasure.  Face it, a touch from Jonathan Black was pleasure, no matter what.  “I am everything, and not just inside this office or this company.  I am everything, to you.”

“Yes,” I whispered.  “I understand.”

“Now touch me, feel what waits if you can be commanded.”

I couldn’t believe my ears had received such words.  My right hand came forward.  I touched cloth a fraction of a second before I felt him.  My hand shook as I cupped him, or at least attempted to cup him.  My hand was too small to hold him, so I ran my hand up and down, making sure I could feel all of him.  My fingertips were given the pleasure of finding his definition, from the round tip of him all the way down to the root of his sex, where it met with his body.  I came up from there and let my middle and ring finger slid into his belt and waited.

I stared at Jonathan, waiting for his command.

I could see something flickering in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell what it was. 

Rage?

Passion?

Lust?

Hate?

Whatever it was, it was something I’d never seen before.  It was something that had me frozen, my heart jumping harder than ever, battling between pleasure and fear.  I had never feared for my life until that moment.  And I don’t know why.  I don’t know why I feared Jonathan Black.  Maybe it was his strong words, his strong grip, or maybe it was the fact that he knew more about me than anyone else.

He let out a long breath and blinked.

That was it.

He pushed off his desk and crashed hard against my body.  I was knocked back a few steps.  The back of my knees hit the chair I had just been sitting in and the sudden pain forced me to try to sit.  Jonathan held me with his hand at my lower back and he swung his foot up, kicking the heavy chair over.  It landed backwards with a thunderous sound. 

Jonathan then lifted me off the ground.  My reaction was to wrap my legs around his body and hold him close and tight between my legs. 

But that’s not what he wanted.

He shook his head and let out a sound that resembled a growl. 

His hand moved into the back of my skirt and he gripped my skirt, forcing me to the ground, forcing my feet to find some kind of balance.  My feet hit the floor and I stumbled forward, my arms out.  Jonathan moved aside but his one hand did not let go of my skirt.  His other hand, the one that had been on my face, hurried and grabbed my hip.  Before I realized what was happening, both his hands were at my hips and he positioned himself directly behind me.  My hands found comfort on his desk and I was able to catch myself.  When I looked up, I realized just what kind of position I was in.

I looked over my shoulder and saw the look in Jonathan Black’s eyes again.

He pressed himself against me and I felt him again. 

He was going to have me… in many ways.

-6-

His hand came around to the
front of my skirt.  His hands lay flat on my legs, forcing my skirt to fold in.  He then slipped his hands into my skirt, pulling it down just a little, showing off my sexy pair of red laced panties.  I couldn’t believe I wore such a sexy pair to work that day.  Perhaps a little fate and destiny playing together. 

His hands felt rough against my legs and I enjoyed it.  I wanted it.  One hand moved to my backside, his fingertips grazing alone the line of my panties, sending chills throughout my body.  His other came down and moved between my legs, cupping my warmth.  He pulled, his fierce grip forcing my panties to dig into me.  My slit ached for him and when he touched the inside of my leg, skin to skin, I shuddered and moaned.  He reached down a few inches and then came back, moved back over my wet panties, and went to the other side.  After repeating the torturous motion one more time, his hands were back at my hips, still in my skirt. 

“Take your heels off,” he said.

I fought my way out of the annoying heels and let them rest where they landed as I kicked my feet. 

I lost a couple inches of height, but I knew Jonathan would find a way to make it up. 

When he took his hands out of my skirt I whimpered.  I was desperate for him to finish what he started.  To allow me to feel everything he had to offer and to give me all he could command. 

His fingers clawed at my skirt, going down, inch by inch until he reached the bottom.  He lifted my skirt up to my back.  I was still bent over his desk, giving him the sight he wanted to see.  I was fresh for him.  My skin tender and full of desire.  I was the portrayal of innocence he needed and by his command, I would give him anything he wanted, and needed.

He touched my bare skin again, his hands at the sides of my legs, his thumbs massaging the skin of my backside.  One hand then moved down and under, his thumb touching me again.  I jumped at his touch and felt him pressing my panties into me again.  He finally inched to one side, pulling my panties away, just enough to expose my tender folds.  He cut right between my folds and moved his thumb up and then back.  He touched all my sensitive skin, once, and then paused at my hole.  He tested it, pressing, feeling it pucker against his thumb. 

I could hearing Jonathan moaning and I tried to look over my shoulder at him. 

I caught a glimpse for a second before his other hand came forward and he pressed his fingers to my jaw, forcing me to look forward.  He leaned over me, body to body, and he let out a long breath, making my hair dance all around me.

“Don’t look unless I tell you to,” he said.  “I’m testing you.  You don’t want to mess this up, Isabella Grace.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

His fingers remained at my jaw and I strained my eyes to look at his fingers.  His other hand still remained between my legs, his thumb gently touching me, finding all my weak spots.  When he flicked at my clitoris, I cried out and my knees gave way.  As I gained strength back in my legs and came up, I rubbed against him, adding to the intense pleasure rolling through my body.  After another minute of teasing play, Jonathan stood back up and then pressed his thumb into me, finally penetrating me. 

My body throbbed and clenched.  I went to my toes as my body tensed.  My hands tried to grab something on his desk but nothing was attached to the desk that could help me. 

I was screwed.

So screwed.

In a hurry, Jonathan took his hands away from my body.  I listened to the sound of metal clanking together as he opened his belt.  Then came the soft sound of his zipper.

My entire body shook with anticipation.  I wanted to be everything he wanted and expected of me.  I wanted to be under his command. 

The sound of cloth rubbing together sounded and stopped. 

That’s when I knew his pants were down.  He was exposed, fully erect, and just a few inches away from the gentle folds of my sex. 

“Ready yourself,” Jonathan said.  “Open for me.”

I reached under myself, touching my smooth skin.  I slowly moved down using my pointer and middle finger, sliding between my wet folds.  I opened my fingers and then rubbed my hole with my middle finger.  It wasn’t the same as Jonathan touching me but it was something.  My sex was ready.  Tight, but ready.  Jonathan would have to conquer my body for me, I couldn’t do it for him. 

I spread my fingers again and waited.

When he finally came forward, I felt the flesh of his sex, the thick tip of his erection as it slid along my slit, touching my hole for a second then touching my fingers and going beyond.  It may have been breaking the rules but I looked down. 

His hardness disappeared from view again as Jonathan now positioned himself to enter me.  His fingers crept up his shaft, curving himself to allow the tip of his erection to press directly on my hole.  I felt his fingers touch my fingers, bringing back the scene of the elevator.  Our hands had touched there too but in much different circumstances. 

I moaned and wanted to call out his name.  I wanted to call for his sex, to call for him to please fuck me…

But I didn’t need to.

He was in command and knew just what to do.

He thrust up at my sex.  He penetrated me with a pleasure filled ease, working his thick tip into me.  The sudden change of feeling between my legs put me back on my toes and had them curling.  I lifted myself some more as Jonathan thrust up again, wanting more of me. 

“Damn you,” he growled at me sending my nerve endings into a frenzy.  It felt so good to feel him but I wanted to please him too.

His hands appeared at my hips again, this time with vice grip strength.  He pulled down at me, forcing me down on him as he thrust up for a third time.  That time he finally entered me completely.  His thick shaft making itself at home, thrashing against my tender walls, forcing itself into my hottest depths, and sending a sexually charged rage through my body that created an almost instant orgasm. 

My hand was still between my legs, holding myself open even though Jonathan had me spread wide.  I was his, what he wanted, waiting for him to tell me to move my hand.

He started to offer long pumps, pulling himself almost completely out and then thrusting back in.  As he pulled out,  I could feel the tip of him, the bump of sensitive skin on his tip, something I hoped to one day taste and savor.

“Move your hand,” he finally said. 

I put my hand to his desk and he started to have me. 

His thrusts suddenly went wild, my body able to accept all of him with ease.  His hands pulled back at my hips each time he came forward, ensuring we connected at the deepest possible level.  It took a matter of seconds before the sex got loud.  My wetness flooded between my legs and the smack of our skin together became amplified with the added moisture.  I tried to suppress all my noises the best I could but as the orgasmic levels continued to peak I couldn’t contain myself.  I threw my head back and let out a long groan as Jonathan fucked me, the moans becoming scattered as I started to lose my breath each time he dug deep in me.