His Every Touch [The Complete Series] (2 page)

“I think you need to learn the value of
patience, Ms. Bell,” Vance circled around so the desk was between them. “I'm
recommending you be required to give weekly reports of your progress.” He sat
in his chair, ignoring her incredulous stare. “And I believe I'll have you
report directly to me. Your first assignment is to write me an outline of your
plan of action, what you intend to do to please me in the future. Have it in my
inbox before the end of business tomorrow.” He opened his laptop and waved a
hand dismissively. “You may go now.”
Courtney blinked, shocked at the sudden change
the conversation had taken. When he didn't look up after a few minutes, she
straightened. Vance made no indication that he'd seen her move. Keeping one eye
on him, she grabbed her jacket and left, mind racing, one incoherent thought
chasing the next, the only underlying theme being: 'what just happened?'

***

“
You need someone to discipline you.
”
His words had echoed in her mind throughout
the day, sometimes accompanied by various images.
She was bent over his desk again, and his
hand was coming down on her bare ass.
She stood in front of him, wanting to say
something that would make him use the ruler he had in his hands.
She knelt in front of him, behind that big
desk, hands bound behind her, shirt open, breasts exposed. He had a hand
tangled in her hair, pushing her head towards his massive erection. She licked
her lips, wanting to taste it, to feel its weight on her tongue.
By the time she got home, her panties were
soaked, and she felt like she was going to explode. She couldn't remember the
last time she'd been this horny. She'd had half a dozen or so partners, but the
kinkiest she'd ever gotten was letting one boyfriend handcuff her to the bed.
She had a feeling that fuzzy pink ones weren't exactly her boss's style. She
heard it in his voice, saw it in those eyes. He promised pleasure in a manner
she'd never before realistically considered. She wasn't naïve; she knew what
type of lifestyle this was. She'd even had her curious moments leading to
several interesting hours on the internet. But even then, she'd never
experienced the level of desire she'd felt in that office.
She picked at her dinner, a reheated chicken
breast leftover from yesterday's meal, unable to think of anything other than
the ache between her legs. It seemed like ages since she'd last had a decent
orgasm. About six months ago, she'd dumped the cheating bastard she'd been
dating. During their three month relationship, he'd made her come once. She
hadn't dated since, having no time or patience for the inane ways people met.
She could've looked for a one-night stand. She was pretty enough for that, she
supposed. But it seemed she had just as many orgasms on her own as she did with
her partner. Not that either number was impressive. She tried masturbating at
least twice a week since then, if only to relieve stress. Fingers and toys
both. She'd watched videos, read books, fantasized about men from her past,
about celebrities she'd never have a chance with. Even the few orgasms she'd
managed were weak and unsatisfying.
“
...you need someone to keep you in line...
”
Courtney threw down her fork in frustration.
How was she supposed to concentrate with his voice in her head? The ghost of
his touch burning her skin? Giving up the meal as a lost cause, Courtney pushed
back the tv table and turned the volume on the tv down. Closing her eyes, she
let her mind return to earlier that day, let all of her thoughts and fantasies
come forward.
She was bent over his desk, and he was
standing behind her. She could feel him, hot and hard against her hip.
She yanked her blouse from her waistband and
shoved her hand under her skirt.
He flipped her skirt up, caressing her
silk-clad bottom for a brief moment before delivering a stinging slap. She
gasped, juices flooding her pussy as he did it again.
Two fingers flicked over her clit, and she
shuddered. She stroked herself, letting a moan fall from her lips. Pleasure
coursed through her body, and she slid her fingers into her cunt.
He pushed his fingers inside her while his
other hand reached underneath to roll her clit between his thumb and
forefinger. He whispered in her ear, voice dripping sex. “If you fuck it up,
I'm going to punish you. And you'll deserve it, won't you? I bet it'll make you
come. In fact, you're wet just thinking about it, picturing me taking my belt
or a crop or a cane to that peaches and cream skin. Maybe I'll put clamps on
your nipples, tug on them until you scream. And you'd let me, wouldn't you?
Because you're going to do whatever I say, just like a good girl. Now,” he
shoved his fingers against her g-spot. “Come.”
Courtney nearly screamed as an orgasm ripped
through her, muscles clenching and convulsing. Her eyes rolled back in her head
and a strangled noise escaped from her lips. Heat and electricity raced through
her body, drowning her in pure sensation.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed
before she could open her eyes. Her limbs felt like jelly and her heart was
still beating frantically within her chest. As far as she could remember, she'd
never come so hard.
Two hours later, she was wondering if the
orgasm had been worth it. What the hell had Vance Forster meant when he said he
wanted her to write a list of what she was going to do to please him? She took
another sip of wine, her head already pleasantly buzzing.
She smirked as an idea popped into her head,
fuzzy and malformed, but something so amusing that she couldn't help but giggle
as she wrote. Time slipped past as her fingers skimmed the keys, and she barely
noticed as she slid into unconsciousness.

***

The alarm blared in her ear, dragging her from
the darkness of sleep. Courtney groaned, head pounding. The sight of a mostly
empty wine bottle brought the prior night rushing back. She sat up, blinking
blearily at her laptop. With her brain still trying to catch up, it took almost
a full minute for her to understand what she was seeing.
A sent email to CEO Vance Forster.
Complete with file attachment named “My
Promises.”
Stomach sinking, Courtney opened the file. As
she read, her horror grew, and she felt the sudden need to throw up. She was so
going to lose her job. She sank back in her chair, her whisper loud in the
otherwise quiet room.
“I am so fucked.”

***

Vance couldn't suppress his grin
as he rode the elevator to his office. He'd intentionally taken the public one
yesterday, timing it just right so he'd be riding with Courtney. He'd watched
her for years, debated time and again the wisdom of hiring her, justifying it
due to her qualifications. Then, in the last few years, her performance had
deteriorated, and he knew that his opportunity had finally arrived.
Her routines were easy to track, and it had been a
simple thing to make sure he was waiting when she entered the lobby. The coffee
was just a stroke of luck. He'd felt her eyes on him when he'd stripped, and
he'd had the power from that point on. His only regret was that she hadn't
spilled anything on herself. He was relatively confident that he'd have been
able to convince her to lose the blouse. The thought of those full breasts,
clad only in her bra and that fitted jacket made his blood rush south. He could
still feel their welcome weight in his hands.
When he'd had her leaning over his desk yesterday
morning, it had taken all of his self-control to keep it to talk and touch
alone. He'd wanted to feel the sting of his palm against her curvaceous ass,
hear her reaction to the smack. Would she squeal in surprise or cry out in
pain? Would it be loud demands to stop that he would need to teach her to
suppress? Or would she take it in silence, making him want to continue trying,
maybe with something other than his hand, until she cracked?
He wanted to taste her, drive her to the edge again
and again only to deny her final release. He wondered how long she would last
before she started begging him to let her come. Would she come on demand? Or
would it take hours of practice? Days of punishing for lack of control? The
various ways by which he could instruct her were too numerous and wonderful to
contemplate at work. As it was, he was extremely conscious of the bulge in his
pants as he entered his office.
Ten minutes later, his hopes that answering email
would distract him enough for his erection to soften were dashed. Courtney had
sent him an attachment titled “My Promises.” Intrigued to see what she'd done
with his assignment, he opened the file... and nearly choked on his coffee.
“So, Mr. Big-Shot-CEO, it seems that I've been such a
naughty girl that I need to be punished. I'm going to promise to let my boss
spank me whenever I deserve it. He can use his hand or belt or a ruler,
whatever he thinks best. I promise never ever to argue and to do whatever Mr.
Forster says I should do. And, if I'm really bad and make Mr. Forster angry, he
can fuck me as hard as he wants. I promise to not wear panties when Mr. Forster
calls me to his office and I will only wear thigh-high stockings so my sexy ass
boss can access my pussy easily. And speaking of asses, I'm pretty sure I'd
like getting spanked and maybe even fucked but I've never done that before so
we'll have to talk about that later. I'm sure it would be a good punishment for
something. And, yeah, that's it. Fuck you and your tight abs Vance Forster.
What do you think about that?”
Vance stared at his screen, mouth hanging open. What
the hell had she been thinking? How much had she had to drink? Alcohol was the
only logical answer for what he was reading. And yet, yesterday, he'd heard her
breathing quicken when he ordered her to take off her jacket, to put her hands
on the desk. She hadn't protested when he'd touched her. And he knew she wasn't
the type of woman who exchanged favors for promotions or positive reviews, so
it hadn't been that. The only reason he could think that she would've allowed
him to do what he did was that she wanted it as much as he did. He glanced down
at his tented pants. All right, maybe not quite as much, but that was half the
fun, wasn't it? Showing her what she really wanted?
Before he could talk himself out of it, he forwarded
the attachment to his phone and deleted the email. That done, he leaned back,
breathing far heavier than his activity required of him. He was so hard it
almost hurt. If he didn't relieve some of this tension soon, he was going to
summon Courtney to his office and fuck her right there, training be damned. He
stood. Times like this, he loved having a private bathroom.
“Mr. Forster,” his assistant's voice came over the
intercom. “The board of directors just called again. They're wondering where
you are.”
Shit. Vance scowled. He'd completely forgotten that
he had a meeting first thing this morning. And there was no way he'd be able to
get off knowing that the board was waiting for him. He picked up his laptop,
thankful that he usually took it with him to meetings. He was going to need it
to cover his erection since it didn't look like it'd be going away anytime
soon. Courtney was so going to pay for this.
Before the meeting had really gotten underway,
Vance's mind began to wander. The quarterly earnings reports, which Vance had
gone over the day before, were hardly enough to keep his brain occupied. Not
when there were so many more delicious things he could be thinking about. For
instance, all of the ways he could make Courtney suffer for his current
situation.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers buried in
thick ash blond hair as he held her on his cock. Her mouth was hot and greedy,
and the desire to come was almost too much, but he kept control. She wouldn't
be allowed to cum until he did, and he could feel her sucking, trying to force
him over the edge. The only things that broke the silence were the wet sounds
of her mouth and the muffled vibration of the toy buried in her pussy. She'd
had it on all day, the constant stimulation a reminder of who she'd offended.
She whimpered as he forced her head down, shoving all nine inches into her
throat.
“Vance is something wrong?”
Vance yanked himself out of his daydream, forcing a
smile while inwardly cursing Dwight Lutz, the board member who'd interrupted.
“Fine, Dwight,” he tried for what appeared to be an apologetic expression. “I
was up late last night. Must've just zoned out.”
“I was just asking for a vote of approval to accept
the quarterly findings as is,” the youngest member of the board, Heathcliff Van
Arsdale, spoke up from the end of the table. He was only two years older than
Vance and the closest thing Vance had to a confidant. The two had met in
college and stuck together ever since.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Vance agreed. “Who's up next?”
As the next item on the agenda was presented, Vance
tried to concentrate, but found his thoughts returning to Courtney and her
email. Before long, he was caught up in another fantasy.
She was beautiful like this, tied, spread-eagle,
to his bed. She was always beautiful, he knew, but something about seeing her
like this just made her quiet beauty stand out more. Her pale skin was marked
with red lines, each one representing a lash with the cane he held in his hand.
She'd thanked him for every stroke, admitted she'd misbehaved and deserved to
be punished. Now, with her body quivering from sensation overload, it was time.
He dropped the cane and took a step forward, hand at his zipper.
“I hope you sleep better tonight.” A hand on his
shoulder jerked Vance from his reverie. Heathcliff grinned down at his friend.
“One more meeting like that and everyone's going to start wondering why we need
you.” He winked as he walked out, leaving Vance alone in the boardroom.
Oh shit. Vance ran his hands through his hair. He
seriously needed to get himself under control. He was so hard it hurt. A shaky
laugh escaped his lips. That's what he got for letting his imagination get the
best of him. He stood, once again holding his laptop in front of him as he made
his way to the floor's public bathroom. It was closer than his own and, the way
he was aching, he wouldn't make it that far without walking funny.
He breathed a sigh of relief that the room was empty
and slipped into the large stall on the end. This was stupid, he knew. He'd
fire anyone caught doing what he was about to do. But the ache in his balls and
cock overrode common sense. He leaned back against the wall, carefully setting
his laptop on the floor next to him. By the time his hand was at his zipper,
his eyes were closed and a new vision had formed in his mind's eye.
Courtney sat beside him in the board room,
appearing to listen as the directors talked. Under the table, her hand was
already inside his pants, fingers wrapped around his thick shaft. Her strokes
were steady and even, every other one twisting slightly at his head, thumb
running over the tip. Determined to make her calm facade break, he slid his
hand up her leg, grinning when her breath hitched. His arctic blue eyes
darkened at the sound. His fingers skimmed over the top of her thigh-high
stockings, tracing over bare skin until he reached the juncture between her
thighs. As she'd promised, she wore nothing beneath her modest business-length
skirt, and his fingers slipped easily into her wet heat.
“
Vance,” the whisper fell from her lips as her
grip on him tightened until it was almost painful.
“Courtney,” he was unable to stop from uttering her
name when he came, shuddering as he spilled over his hand.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and Vance's
eyes snapped open. He straightened, reaching for the toilet paper to wipe
himself off as footsteps traveled to the urinals. He tucked himself back into
his pants, wincing as the sensitive skin rasped across his zipper. Noise at the
sink indicated that the other man had finished. Vance picked up his laptop,
took a deep breath and stepped out of the stalls to wash his hands. After a
quick once over to ensure his suit was pristine, his blue-black hair stylishly
tousled, he headed back to his office.
Before he reached his door, his assistant stopped
him, several Post-Its in her hand and a strange expression on her face. Emma
Berry had been with him for six years and was one of the few people not afraid
to speak her mind, a quality he usually appreciated. At the moment, he was
reconsidering. She glared up at him. “I don't know what you did, but you need
to call this girl back.”
As he shut his door behind him, he skimmed the notes.
Even though he'd been expecting it, the sight of Courtney's name made his
stomach clench.
“Courtney Bell called to talk to you. I told her you
were in a meeting. She wants you to call her back.”
“Courtney Bell called again to see if you were back
from your meeting.”
“Courtney called again and she sounded upset. What
the hell did you do?”
“She called again. I think she was crying. Fix it,
douche bag.”
Vance sank into his chair, dropping the notes on his
desk. He ran his hands through his hair. What had he done? This wasn't what he
wanted. Not with Courtney. Had he gone too far? His computer dinged, alerting
him to a new email. Desperate for any distraction, he opened it... and
instantly wished he hadn't.
“Mr. Forster, as I have yet to hear back regarding my
inappropriate email, I feel that I can safely assume that my employment at
Asgard Corporation will be ending soon. I will take responsibility for what I
did and will be handing in my resignation tomorrow. I just can't face it today.
I'm truly sorry.”
What the fuck was she thinking? Vance punched the
intercom button. “Emma, get Miss Bell on the line immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Emma's tone made it clear that she was
still pissed at him.
Vance leaned back, trying to regain some semblance of
calm before Courtney arrived. If he was going to pursue a dominant role in her
life, she could never see him frazzled like this. A part of him was already
disturbed that she'd managed to rattle him this much. Then again, she wasn't
like any other woman he'd ever pursued. She was the end goal. Always had been.
“Mr. Forster.” Emma's voice came back over the
intercom. “Miss Bell went home about fifteen minutes ago.” The unspoken
accusation dripped from every syllable.
“Thank you, Emma.” Vance thought about it and then
added, “Cancel my dinner reservations at
La Mia Rosa
tonight.” He barely
heard her reply as he turned his chair towards the massive windows that made up
his back wall. The sky was a soft gray with clouds darkening in the distance.
Their color made his heart constrict as he imagined Courtney's eyes, that same
shade of dark gray, filled with tears.
“Shit.” He stood, shoving his chair back against the
desk. He strode over to the windows, peering out over the skyline but seeing none
of it. When he'd pictured finally beginning his relationship with Courtney,
he'd been calm and smooth, seducing her with his words and caresses. After he'd
made first contact, he could carefully cultivate his control over her, drop
hints and innuendos designed to make her uncomfortable with desire. Bit by bit,
she'd start doing things that he wanted, falling under his spell without
realizing it. Only after he was certain that she wouldn’t refuse him, they
would finally consummate their relationship. He'd had the entire process
outlined, approximately three weeks from beginning to consummation, and now it
was crumbling after just over twenty-four hours.
Of the thousands of times he'd run through various
scenarios, not a single one had looked anything like this, and he didn't know
what to do. Common sense told him that he should just let it go. What he'd done
could get him fired, if not arrested and sued. Courtney's drunken email was
bad, but nothing like feeling her up in his office during a review. If she was
embarrassed enough to resign rather than angry enough to sue, it might be best
if he just accepted it.
He turned away from the window. He didn't want to
accept it. Not only would it be wrong for him to let her resign for something
that he'd provoked, but he didn't want her to leave. Having a relationship with
a subordinate wasn't entirely ethical, but he'd wanted Courtney before she'd
come to work at Asgard. And he'd never force her into something she didn't
want. But, wasn't that what he was doing? He growled in frustration. Had he
done anything to imply that she'd lose her job if she didn't respond to his
attentions? Had he misread the signals yesterday?