Management Skills (5 page)

“Don’t stop now!” She thrashed, her nipples straining up to the ceiling as her back arched.

The pressure in his shaft mounted. “You’re stunning.”

Again and again he drove her to the ragged edge of passion, only to pull back. She moaned and twisted. He continued to tease her to a fever pitch and then withdraw. She was perfect in every way. But she was also nearing the end of her endurance.

“Ride me, you bastard!” she blurted through clenched teeth.

Her curse wasn’t exactly “over,” their agreed-upon safeword, but it would work.

He stripped off his clothing and sheathed himself. He teased her with his hard cock and she whimpered. The angle of the treadmill deck was perfect. Grasping her hips, he thrust into her lush body. She shuddered around him, nearly sending him over the edge.

He regained control of his lust, taking his pleasure slowly and deeply. Allie didn’t approve. Her body, pinned on his cock, bound to the machine, writhed, frantic with desire. Her body sheened with sweat.

“More,” she cried, demented. “Give me more.”

He continued his deliberate, measured assault, ignoring her pleas and thrashing. He thrust leisurely, patiently, forcing her to soar ever higher with need.

“Mine,” he growled.

His pace quickened. She cried out, climaxing again and again. Already on a high plane of arousal, it didn’t take much. He drove into her harder and faster. He enjoyed her wild response. He used every ounce of strength to hold back his own release. Some of her orgasms left her shuddering softly, pleasure surging through her in soft waves. Others crashed into her like a raging tsunami, making her scream. Every single one of her flailing twitches and clenching gasps delighted him.

Finally, after knowing her body and her responses, he gave in to his own needs. He pounded into her slick softness, taking what belonged to him. His selfish thrusts grew more demanding, faster, deeper. Her back bowed against the restraints.

His mind and body were on fire. He roared with pleasure and drove into her one last time, exploding.

Allie was heading out of town again. Her destination was Saint Louis and the folks at Depuy Group. This unique co-op of programmers and engineers had made some exciting progress in 3-D media. She wanted to take a personal look.

On the way to the airport, she made a stop at SSG, intending to do a bit of last-minute research into 3-D. How advanced were the Depuy Group concepts? It was Sunday, so nobody was around. She hurried into her office. The SSG internal network server had loads of confidential white papers evaluating a variety of technologies. 3-D was one of them.

She settled in her exotic chair. After connecting her laptop to the network, she started on a search for the relevant information. She had less than two hours to find what she needed, but it should just take ten minutes.

Today she wore her version of casual, a cropped cashmere sweater in ice blue and wide-legged gray wool trousers. She still liked wearing blue, but her color palette had expanded into the occasional black. She also dressed a little less conservatively, showing a bit more skin, a few more curves. Her transformation wasn’t extreme enough to make Pilar happy, but Grant appreciated the changes.

She touched her collar, barely hidden under her sweater.

She’d been owned now for almost four weeks. Since her collaring, she’d had a few face-to-face business meetings, a lunch at the airport and one dinner with her owner.

And zero sex.

Grant wanted her in a highly aroused, deprived state, so that when he finally permitted a sexual encounter, she’d be crazy hot. He claimed denial and teasing made for magnificent, world-shattering orgasms. He was right. It did. Tying her up to his treadmill and stoking her to insanity had given her the best climaxes she’d ever had.

But keeping herself chaste was getting harder by the day. Was the pleasure worth all the pain?

She glanced at the white paper files on her laptop. One of them seemed perfect. Suddenly the files went
poof.
She tried the search again. The search came up empty. And once more. Something was wrong with the internal network.

IT at Synthos Systems kept bankers’ hours. Fixing the network on a Sunday afternoon would be a DIY affair. Heading downstairs to the subbasement machine room, she hummed to herself, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. She really didn’t want to spend a ton of time fixing the stupid server, only to have to run off to the airport.

She opened the heavy fire door of the machine room. The door squeaked. Grant was inside, hunched over a component rack. At the sound, the president and CEO of SSG turned and silently stared at her. He grunted, looking unfriendly.

She’d never seen a perturbed expression on his handsome face. It was sexy as hell. Her body vibrated as if she’d been strummed.

“I
do
know how to fix these things, Allie,” he said.

She should take the hint and leave. She almost took off, leaving him alone. But big, mean, gorgeous bosses sometimes didn’t know as much about computers as they thought. She’d make sure the network was working before she made the long trek back up to her office.

Stepping into the dim space, she let the door close behind her. The machine room smelled faintly of metal and ozone.

He turned back to the rack, and slid out a component. Straightening, he stepped past her to pick up a fresh circuit board on a shelf near the door, brushing close. Her breath caught in her throat. Even fully dressed, wearing a snug-fitting dress shirt and pleated trousers, he struck hard at a sexual nerve.

He returned to the rack with his board and inserted it. He mumbled to himself. After a few minutes of work, he said, “Subnet up.”

When he turned to look at her, his expression was raw. He moved toward her. He wanted her. Her heart thumped erratically.

Why now? Why did he finally make a move right before she had to catch a flight?

Crowding her up against some electronic equipment, he was mere inches from her. Unwelcome fire flared through her body. He didn’t touch her, but his dark purple eyes caught and held hers.

She swallowed. “Network is up? That’s great. Working again now? Thanks. I suppose we should both get back to work. Thanks again.” She held her breath, waiting for him to move. He didn’t.

She stepped to her left, trying to slip past him. But he wouldn’t budge. His finger slid gently over her belly ring under her cropped sweater. A quiver surged through her veins.

“Will you please let me pass?” She was begging him now. He promised he wouldn’t interfere with her job. He
promised.
“Please, I have a flight to catch. I’m going to Saint Louis.”

“You packed?”

“Yes.”

“What time is your flight?” His dark eyes were hungry, proprietary.

“Two-thirty.”

He hooked a finger under her collar and yanked her toward him. “Then you’ve got time.”

He’d never dominated her with his physicality before. Her knees nearly buckled. “Sir.”

His finger still curved under her collar, he drew her closer. He kissed her, sweeping her up in a haze of desire and submission. The kiss wasn’t exploratory or gentle, like the touch on her belly ring; his mouth and tongue told her she was
his.
His to control, his to tease, his to pleasure. White-hot lightning surged from his lips to her stomach, all the way down to the soles of her feet.

He let go of her collar and reached under her sweater to cradle one lace-covered breast. His masculine scent of woods enveloping her, he continued to kiss her. He pinched her nipple through the lace. Her passion exploded. He broke the kiss. Closing her eyes, she moaned, throwing her head back and gripping his hard biceps.

He whispered into her arched neck. “You’re so tempting.”

He began to strip off her clothing. Slowly. Too slowly. He stopped to drag his teeth over her tender skin. He paused to nibble and bite. She loved it. And hated it. She couldn’t bear another minute of his long, painful foreplay as he undressed her. Her heart beat wildly. She couldn’t get enough air.

And then, finally, she stood naked in the machine room, bare except for her collar. He devoured her body with his hot gaze, making her feel as if she was the only woman in the universe. Any thoughts of catching a flight—of a life beyond this moment—burned to ash.

He dragged a condom foil out of his wallet. Holding it in his teeth, he stripped naked. He was big and beautiful, corded with muscle. A sigh shuddered through her. His erection was enormous. Just looking at his rigid, straining cock made her body scream for release.

But begging her owner to have mercy would be futile. He wouldn’t give her release until he’d ratcheted up her arousal to explosive levels.

Still holding the foil in his teeth, he scooped her up in his strong arms. He carried her over to a large silver table crammed with parts and tools. He lowered her to sit on a bare spot on the hip-high metal surface.

“It’s cold!” she shrieked.

His deep-set eyes smoldering with indigo fire, he swept the table clean of cable, hubs and cardboard boxes. A screwdriver clanged to the floor. “Lie back, Mine.”

She obeyed and lay down on the icy table, shivering, waiting.

In one smooth, easy movement, he straddled her. He placed the condom packet in the valley between her swollen breasts. The foil edges poked into her skin, reminding her that her fulfillment would be at his pleasure, not hers.

“You’re cruel,” she whimpered.

His eyes met hers. They sparked with a strange, satisfied light. He loved her sensual misery. He couldn’t get enough of bringing her to the edge and jerking her back, and then, finally, tearing her apart with orgasm after orgasm.

His hands seared a path to her belly ring and roamed intimately over the jewelry. She squirmed beneath him. He inserted his little finger into the ring and pulled gently. Stinging desire and pain pooling in her loins, her body surged toward his. A molten haze of hunger swirled in her brain.

“Please don’t tease me anymore, Sir.”

“If only we had more time.” He released the ring.

He dipped his head to hers. She felt his erection, hot and hard, against her bare stomach. His testicles pressed against her mound. She moaned under him, shifting his weight to just the right spot.

“I can’t take it anymore,” she said.

She ground against him. Fire consumed her. Blood pounded in her ears. Her body spun out of control, twisting and pumping. She was burning up, flailing in flames. Dimly, she sensed him tearing open the foil.

And then he was hot and hard inside her. She shuddered with joy and gratitude. Cradling her hips in his hands, he filled her, he rode her. Gently at first. So soft, so smooth, so loving. His thrusts intensified, plunging into her deep and fast. He drove into her, each potent contact radiating into a series of powerful, overlapping climaxes.

She cried out, electrified by his passion and endurance. Each new orgasm was stronger than the last. The world turned timeless, a universe of escalating heat and friction. In that slim instant before she convulsed with a shattering finish, she realized she was well and truly his sex slave.

Quivering in the aftershock, legs intertwined, they lay on the metal table for long minutes. Her body tingled with contentment. She studied his handsome, serene face, his dark hair mussed. Smoothing her palms over his broad, hard chest, she showered his lips with kisses.

He kissed her back.

After a while, he got off the table, giving her a long, hot gaze. She adored the way her body, splayed lasciviously on the metal table, could stir him.

“I didn’t go slow, Mine,” he said. “That means you owe me. Next time I’ll collect that debt.”

She smiled and stretched. “Yes, Sir.”

Allie’s day had been long and grueling. The tech test at the stadium had gone poorly. Not enough light, too much light, wrong gels. The timing of light cues was messed up. Two of the lamps had burned out. The master electrician had disappeared for hours. The stage manager was a jerk. She felt responsible for every failure. After taking a long shower, she lay on the hotel bed, exhausted.

The desire she suppressed during the day tumbled into her consciousness. Grant. She needed him, needed his touch. It had been three weeks since their encounter in the machine room. She hadn’t seen him since.

Alone and lonely, she stroked her collar, attempting to deepen her contact with her owner. Her finger curled over the oval jewel. The opulent sapphire necklace never failed to intrigue anyone who saw it. No one guessed at its intended symbolism: mutual devotion.

Right now the necklace only represented pain and deprivation.

At night, so far away from him, the collar was a burden. It had become a silver antenna with a big blue stone, collecting all the sexual energy of the universe. All the shimmering erotic ether was drawn into her neck, spilling down her breasts, sliding down her stomach, to swirl heavily in her pelvis.

She needed Grant to pump out that brilliant sexual energy. He was like an oilrig. His thrusts would turn her into a supernova, throwing the shimmering substance of sex back out into the universe.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he drilling into her? Was he fucking other women? She bit her lip, forcing away that dreadful thought. She was being unfair, paranoid. She texted Pilar, looking for womanly support, or at least girly diversion, but her friend didn’t respond. Pilar was asleep or showering or having sex with some stud who was pumping, pumping, pumping.

Exhaling a long breath of air, Allie composed herself. Desire came from the brain. She could control it with the same organ.

She had plenty of experience in sublimating her fire. She’d tamped down on her own sexual needs during those last few months with Joseph. Joseph would be scowling, upset about her having gone to the library or the lab or something, feeling neglected.

She’d unfasten his pants, reaching in for his cock. So precious. So magnificent. Growing harder and harder.

She’d whisper soft, loving words. She’d tug his pants all the way down and kneel in front of him. Proof of her submission would make him happy with her again. Focusing only on his pleasure eased his anxiety, made him feel strong. And his strength gave her security. Her skilled fingers would stroke his length from base to head, making his shaft pulse and thicken. Joseph would throw back his head and groan. She’d take him deep into her mouth, caressing with her tongue. Her hands would fondle his balls. Soon he’d be bucking and snarling against her. And then, his release imminent, he’d scream.

Her recollection faltered and faded. No. That wasn’t right. Joseph never screamed. But someone had screamed.

Was it her? Had she just screamed? Right here in the hotel room?

It
was
her. She’d climaxed. She was shuddering, spent, her palm resting on her core. She’d re-enacted pleasuring Joseph—on her own body.

Drawing her hand off her mound, she rested it on her collar, a symbol of commitment again. She felt a renewed devotion to Grant. Exhausted and happy, she fell asleep.

A gentle knock at the hotel room door woke her up. She blinked, confused. Someone at her door? She pulled on her robe and looked out the peephole.

Grant!

Squealing with joy, she opened the door and dragged him inside.

“Oh, Sir,” she cried. “I’ve missed you so much. So much.”

She let her robe drop and wafted to the small desk. Leaning over it, she planted her elbows. Her nipples grazed the fine-grained wood surface. She glanced over her shoulder at him. He didn’t move. He was so handsome, so stern. He wore a black suit—and an even blacker expression. He stared at her as though he’d never seen a woman before.

He’d never taken her from behind. She wiggled her ass in invitation.

He closed the distance between them, roughly turning her to face him. She loved his strength. Her vagina clenching, her juices running freely, she moaned, equal parts lust and anticipation.

She reached up to touch his stubbled chin. He captured her wrist, stopping her.

His indigo eyes glimmered. “You’ve disobeyed me, Mine. You haven’t been chaste.”

His words shocked her into silence.