The Office Slave #2: The Boss

Opal Carew

They brought her ultimate sexual fantasy to
life… Now it gets real.

Sylvia couldn’t get his deep, domineering
voice out of her head. It had only been a one minute phone
conversation, but it had elicited the most compelling and intense
sex dreams she’d ever known.

Her friend had arranged for her to live out
her sexual fantasy of being office slave to four hot hunky business
partners, and at the end, their fifth partner had called to ask if
she wanted to be dominated… for real.

Now she was about to give up total control to
the man behind the voice… the Boss.

Volume 2 of the The Office Slave series.

.

5 Stars!

"Very well written, makes you feel as if you
could be one of the characters in this story. I like how they don't
cut her any slack and make her fantasy come true with a
bang."
Annette, Amazon reader

5 Stars!

Totally HOT and sexy!

"I loved it. Where were my friends like this
when I was single? Holy mother! I hope there's a sequel. I want to
see how it works out with the big boss." :)

Slinkydennis, Amazon reader

4 Stars!

"Exciting and intriguing book, as always
kept the sizzle throughout the whole novel. I could not put the
book down till I finished reading it all."

Leslie, Amazon reader

Published by Opal Carew at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Opal Carew

Discover more books by Opal Carew at her
website

www.OpalCarew.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
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and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the
characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are
either products of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First edition: June 2013

www.OpalCarew.com

The Office Slave #2: T
he Boss

Opal
Carew

To my readers.

Enjoy!

Sylvia stood in front of the door to Suite
150, wearing her black fitted business suit, and pressed the button
to ring the bell. Anxiety quivered through her. When she'd been
here last week, it had been to experience her deepest sexual
fantasy, to submit to the sexual whims of four hunky business
partners.

It had been the most incredible experience of
her life.

Now, here she was again, but this time was
different. Their boss had called afterward and challenged her to
put aside the play-acting and submit to him for real. His voice on
the phone had been deep and authoritative and she'd found herself
yearning to obey him.

The weekend had been sweet torment as she'd
anticipated this encounter. What did this man look like? What would
he command her to do?

Although the mere thought of being under his
control excited her, faced with the reality of coming here this
morning, she'd almost backed out.

"Hello," a deep, masculine voice said over
the intercom speaker.

It was him. Tingles danced down her spine.
She was finally going to meet him.

"Hello, Mr. Grant. This is Sylvia Reed."

"Walk past the main area, turn left, then
open the door at the end of the hall. You'll find my office
there."

At the buzzing sound, she pulled open the
door and stepped inside. As she walked, she patted the back of her
head to ensure her hair was still neatly captured in the
barrette.

The four partners she'd interacted with last
week had their offices off the main area. She saw Granger and Mike
talking in one of the offices, triggering heated memories of their
big naked bodies pressed against her. Her heart-rate
accelerated.

They didn't notice as she passed by. She
continued down a hall and turned left, then at the end of the
hallway, found a door she hadn't been through before. She opened it
and stepped inside a reception area.

The floor was carpeted and a desk stood in
the middle of the room. A couple of comfortable-looking leather
chairs stood along the wall facing the large window overlooking the
nicely landscaped grounds outside the building.

She glanced around and saw a large door of
deep mahogany. Her stomach fluttered and she drew in a deep,
calming breath. This was it. She'd been anticipating this moment
ever since she'd first heard his sexy voice. It was time to meet
the mysterious man who'd been haunting her dreams.

She tapped on the door, then opened it and
stepped inside.

A suited man sat behind a huge, mahogany
desk, staring at a large, sleek laptop. His glossy hair, black as a
raven's wing, was cropped short. His face, with high cheekbones and
angular jaw framing full lips, was striking. He glanced at her with
piercing steel-blue eyes and her breath caught. He was intensely
masculine. And incredibly sexy.

"Miss Reed."

"Yes."

She expected him to tell her to sit down, but
he didn't. His gaze took in her face, then drifted down her neck
and settled on her chest. Heat washed through her at his intense
scrutiny. Her nipples puckered as he blatantly stared at her
breasts. Then his gaze drifted downward again, slowing over her
stomach, then settling a few inches below her navel. She felt as if
he could see right through her skirt to the black lace panties
beneath. Her vagina clenched.

Then his gaze continued down her legs to her
high-heeled, black patent pumps.

Her breath held, and when his gaze slid back
to her face, she was elated to see approval in his eyes.

"Are you ready to submit to me?"

Her throat suddenly went dry. This was her
last chance to change her mind.

She drew in a deep breath, then nodded.

God, the man had barely spoken to her, and
she had just agreed to do anything he wanted.

"You will call me Sir, or Mr. Grant."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now take off your panties."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him, frozen
to the spot. She had expected him to lead into things a bit. Maybe
talk a little, or take her to see the other partners again before
they got started.

"Now." His firm, authoritative tone jolted
through her.

Excitement quivered through her as she
reached under the hem of her narrow skirt and shifted it up until
she could reach her panties, revealing quite a bit of thigh, then
she pulled them down and stepped out of them. Thank heavens she'd
worn them over her garter belt and stockings.

Cool air brushed against her clean-shaven
pussy and even though she was still fully clothed, she felt
naked.

He held out his hand and she placed the
skimpy black lace garment in his palm, then watched his big fingers
curl around it. He slid it into his suit jacket pocket.

"Go and lean back against the credenza," he
said as he stood up from his desk chair.

She glanced around and walked to the oak
credenza against the wall. He stepped from behind his desk as she
leaned back against it.

"Hike up your skirt and open your legs."

Her heart thudded loudly as she glanced at
him. Was he going to take her right here? She shifted her feet
further apart as she tugged up her skirt, opening her thighs wider.
Did he want her to expose her pussy?

When the hem of her skirt was high enough to
reveal the tops of her stockings, he said, "That's enough." He
leaned back against his desk. "Now reach under your skirt and touch
yourself."

She drew in a breath, then slid her hand
under her skirt. She found her warm, soft folds, which were already
slick.

"Stroke back and forth. Pretend it's me
touching you."

Her heart-rate jumped another notch. As she
stroked back and forth, she could imagine his big, masculine
fingers stroking her slick opening.

"Are you wet?" he asked.

Oh, God, was she ever.

"Yes, Mr. Grant."

His steel-blue eyes gleamed. "Good. Now slide
your fingers inside. Stroke your passage."

As she obeyed him, she imagined his big
fingers sliding into her, triggering a frenzy of desire.

"Tell me what it feels like."

"It's warm and slick."

To her satisfaction, she could see a bulge
forming in his pants.

"Now tease your clit."

She licked her lips as she found the tiny
button in the nest of folds, then glided her fingertip over it.

"Are you still imagining me touching
you?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm imagining your fingers sliding
inside me. Touching my clit."

"Imagine me stroking it, and licking it, my
fingers plunging inside you."

Oh, God, she wanted to feel him touch her for
real. Her finger quivered over her button, and her vagina clenched
tightly.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes, Mr. Grant." Her words came out in a
breathless murmur.

"Are you getting close?"

Heat swelled through her as she flicked over
her clitoris.

"Oh, yes," she said breathlessly.

"Good." He smiled. "Now stop."

Oh, God, no! But she withdrew her fingers
from her slick flesh. He stepped toward her and she drew in a
breath of anticipation. Would he touch her now?

She shivered as he took her wrist and lifted
her hand to his lips, then wrapped them around her index finger and
sucked. She moaned at the sensation, knowing he was tasting
her.

Slowly, he drew her finger from his mouth,
then licked her fingertip before releasing her wrist. God, she
wanted to feel his mouth on other parts of her. Like her breasts…
her nipples.

And, oh, God, her clit.

As if reading her thoughts, he smiled. "Take
off your jacket and blouse."

She slipped off her suit jacket and placed it
on the credenza, then released the top button of her dove grey,
silk blouse. She unfastened each button slowly, reveling in the
heat of his gaze as she exposed more and more skin. Finally, she
drew the garment from her shoulders and tossed it on top of her
jacket.

Now she stood before him in her low cut bra,
her dusky nipples clearly showing through the sheer, black
lace.

He smiled appreciatively. "Very nice. Now
take off the bra."

She reached around behind her, excitement
quivering through her at the thought of revealing her naked body to
him, and released the hooks. She slipped the bra from her body
quickly, before she lost her nerve.

His blue eyes darkened to navy as he stared
at her naked breasts. Her nipples tightened to beads at his blatant
masculine admiration.

"Touch them," he said, his voice a little
hoarse.

She cupped her breasts and lifted them, then
caressed.

"That's right."

Arousal danced through her as she stroked her
nipples with her thumbs, mesmerized by the smoldering desire in his
eyes.

"Pluck the nipples. Pull and squeeze them
until they're big and hard."

She rolled one nipple between her index
finger and thumb while she tugged on the other one. She squeezed
and pulled until they swelled and elongated.

She longed for him to touch them. To cup his
big masculine hand around her breast and tease her nipples. To wrap
his lips around her nub and suck it hard.

But he just watched as she toyed with her
nipples, the bulge in his pants growing steadily.