Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 42185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
This man is dark and mysterious. Apparently, he’s dangerous. Apparently, I should be afraid of him.
Instead, I want him so badly and it’s driving me insane.
6
Mason
That night, I think about my new fucking assistant, and my cock is so hard I can barely stand it.
That kiss, god damn, that fucking kiss. It’s the first kiss I’ve had in five years, and it felt so fucking good. It’s like I forgot how good a woman can feel against me, ready to give herself to me, ready to obey me simply because she wants to. Hazel was shaking with desire and delight and fear. I reveled in it, loved her reaction, wanted to push her even more.
Until fucking Rogers called and reminded me about a teleconference meeting I had scheduled.
Now though, now I can picture what I would’ve done to her. I could’ve lifted her skirt up, teased her tight little pussy with my fingers, pushed her boundaries just a little bit. I’d make her get down on her knees and beg me for more before getting her off.
When she reaches the point where she can’t take it anymore, I’ll slide my cock into her mouth and make her gag on it. I’d make her beg me some more with my dick down her throat.
Only after she performs for me will I give her what she wants. Ass out, spread wide open, pussy glistening wet. I’ll fuck that tight cunt, make her come a thousand times.
I stroke my cock just thinking about it. I need to feel her breasts, feel her hips, feel her ass. I need to taste her dripping pussy, slide my tongue inside of her, lick every inch of her. I want to hear her pant and moan and beg.
I want to see how far she’ll really go for me.
I stroke myself faster, faster, thinking about my dirty new assistant. I’ll push her buttons, make her strip, spank her ass red and raw. I want to see just how much cock she can handle.
I come thinking about her body, her name on my lips. I clean myself up and slip into a deep, dream-free sleep for the first time in years.
* * *
The next morning, after waking at a more reasonable hour and working out, I shower off and dress before heading into my office.
Hazel’s already there, standing at attention and holding the same silver tray. This time, there’s a newspaper on it.
Good old Rogers, always knows what I want, although not necessarily what I need.
“Good morning, Hazel,” I say, sitting down.
“Good morning.” She walks over and puts the tray down before doing a passable curtsy, barely able to contain her grin.
“Better,” I say. “Still a little awkward.”
Her grin fades and she glares at me. “I practiced that.”
“Practice harder.” I wave my hand at the tray. “Pick it up, come around the desk, and kneel.”
She frowns, but does as I ask. She comes around and kneels down next to me.
I swivel my chair and pour some coffee. I take the cup and put it in front of me before opening the paper.
I make her sit there on her knees, holding up the tray with the coffee pot on it while I page through the paper. I finally find the article I’m looking for, a short little write-up about the deal I’ve been brokering with the Chinese.
I read it with a little frown and toss the paper aside.
“Bad news?” she asks.
I glare at her. “Speak when spoken to, Hazel.”
“Sorry, sir.” She looks down at the floor.
I sigh. “Not bad news. Just… inaccurate.”
“They didn’t get it right?”
“They misrepresented what I’ve been doing.”
“What have you been doing?”
I hesitate and give her a look. “Watch yourself.”
“Sorry, sir.”
I sip my coffee and idly page through the rest of the paper. She stays where she is for nearly five minutes. I can tell her arms are exhausted, but she doesn’t complain and doesn’t make a face. She just stays there, doing exactly what I told her to do.
Most people would be angry by now. Most people would be too tired to keep going. But not Hazel. She stays still, face calm.
I’m actually impressed. Very impressed, actually.
“Get up,” I say finally, putting the rest of the paper back on the tray. “You can put it down now.”
She lets out a sigh of relief and puts the tray on the corner of my desk. I pour some more coffee as she stretches her arms out.
“I’m really going to be muscular after this,” she says, smiling at me.
I shake my head. I don’t know how she’s spinning this into a joke. I just made her kneel next to me and hold up a tray like a piece of furniture, and yet she’s smiling.
Art degree or not, she must be the strongest assistant I’ve had in here… maybe the strongest person to date.