Read Temptation to Submit Online

Authors: Jennifer Leeland

Tags: #BDSM; Contemporary

Temptation to Submit (7 page)

Victoria usually wore very appropriate business wear—suits made for her curves—in modest colors. No reds or bright pinks were in her wardrobe. Occasionally she wore pants, but they were always tailored and fit her perfectly.

Today she was wearing a loose short skirt. It was light green, and the hem stopped just below her knee. It was a soft, thin material that gave a small hint of her underwear beneath. Her blouse, however, was formfitting, curving in at the waist. It was black and the same material as her skirt.

“Forty minutes late today.” He watched her face. She wasn’t afraid or resigned. The minute he spoke, she relaxed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Paulus.”

“Do you need more punishment?” he asked. “What have I told you to call me?”

“I’m not calling you that,” she snapped.

He loved it when she mouthed off to him. It meant she was going to struggle more, curse at him, and then cling tighter when he held her afterward. “Why not, brat?” He was amused to see her reaction to his nickname for her.

“It sounds ridiculous,” she muttered and then glared at him. “And you like it too much.”

“I think
you
like it.” He stepped back and waved his hand toward his office. “Now, Ms. Rodgers.”

She strode toward the door and stopped just before entering. She turned her head to stare at the floor to her left and gave him a sidelong glance. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sir. Say it, Victoria.”

He almost laughed when snapped her head around, her eyes narrowed. “May I ask you a question, Sir?” She bit out the last word.

“You may. But hurry up. I’m impatient to discipline you,” he said sternly.

“Did you mean it? About the kidnapping fantasy? Would you?” She stood in the doorway, her head turned away, her gaze on the ground. She resembled a bird, startled and frightened, about to take flight.

“Would you like me to draw up a contract? Written rules for the scene like I did for our morning spankings?” His cock filled and strained in his slacks. She was going to kill him.

He heard her swallow. “Yes.” She took a step into the office and stopped. Then she said, “I do like calling you Sir, but it makes me feel weird.”

Quid pro quo. “I do like it too much,” he admitted. “But I won’t break our agreement.”

She turned to face him. “Even if I ask you to?”

“Are you?” Jesus, she could test a saint.

There was something desperate in her expression that tore at his heart. “Damn it,” he muttered and shoved her farther into his office and shut the door. “What do you want, Victoria?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and met his gaze. “Will you spank me without my underwear?”

His cock jerked in his pants. “I can do that. In return, I request a favor.”

Her eyelids drooped, as if to protect herself. “I’m listening.”

“I want to make you come.” He watched her face and saw the longing and the surprise.

She nodded. “In that case, I would like to add one more item to the agenda.”

Little smart-ass. “I’m listening.”

His heart rate accelerated as she stepped closer to him, not quite touching him, but near enough to feel her heat. Her voice was low and hoarse. “Will you come on me when you’re done spanking me?”

Her face flooded with color, and he noted that she dropped her gaze to the floor when she asked. He lifted her face and let her see his. “I want to make sure I understand you, Victoria. You want me to spank you per our previous agreement, but on your bare skin, make you have an orgasm as per my request, and then release my seed on your ass.”

“Yes.” She sighed the word, and he almost lost control.

But he hung on and lifted an eyebrow until she said, “Yes, Sir.”

“Agreed.” He gripped her arm and bent her over his desk. Fuck, she was the most perfect submissive like this. Her ass was round and full, spankable. Her feet spread, and her hair drifted over the wood of the desk.

He lifted her skirt and fingered the soft material of her panties. They were silky and white and slid easily down her thighs. She stepped out of them, and he picked them up. “I don’t know if you’re going to get these back,” he told her.

“Finch—” she protested but broke off when his hand connected with her flesh.

There was nothing better than the feel of her skin on his palm. The heat, the softness, the way it moved all worked on him. His cock was so hard, he found it difficult to restrain himself. He alternated between each cheek, some hard, some soft. He’d stop after two or three and grip the flesh of her ass, loving the feel of her. She squirmed and moaned.

With the permission to touch, he stopped after twenty smacks and slid his finger over the damp entrance to her sweet pussy. She let out a harsh breath and started to cover herself with her hands.

He whacked her hard. “Behave.”

She snarled at him, and he gave her a feral smile. He had grown to love her defiance. He captured her hands and gripped her wrists tight. “You hold those here, or I’ll stop right now.”

“No, please.” Her whole body shook as she clasped her own wrists, effectively binding herself.

He smacked her five more times and then leaned down to lick the heated flesh. She groaned and arched back to increase the pressure. He spared her nothing, and the last fifteen were hard and fast.

As he struck her butt on the last strike, he wrapped on arm around her waist and lifted her against him. She arched back and slammed her head into his shoulder. When one of her hands wandered to his aching cock and stroked it through his pants, he growled at her and moved her tempting fingers away. “Bad girl. Lift your arms and clasp your fingers together.”

She obeyed him, and he did what he’d wanted to do for weeks. He cupped her beautiful breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers. She jerked in his arms. He pulled on her tits, using the material of her blouse to create more friction.

Her hips thrust back when he bit her shoulder. “Hold still.”

She froze, and he caught her with her eyes half open, staring at him. “Please, Sir,” she whispered.

He palmed her breasts as he held her gaze. “Please what, brat?”

“Touch me…please.”

“Where, Victoria? Tell me where you want me to touch you,” he said in a strained tone. “And don’t be shy about it.”

“Touch my pussy,” she said clearly. “Rub my clit. Make it yours.”

At the last three words, his cock thickened, and he cupped her damp flesh. He flicked two fingers over her clit, pinched it, and she twitched in his arms. She spread her legs to give him better access.

With a curse, he whipped her around and laid her on her back on the desk. He pushed her legs apart and sank three fingers deep inside her. She cried out and arched her back, driving him in farther. He curled them and slid the tips until he found the spot he wanted. He knew the second he touched it. She gasped, inhaling a huge breath, and shuddered.

Controlled, deliberate, and fast, he worked her as he watched her face. Her hips gyrated, and a flush covered her neck and chest. Her whole body tensed, every muscle clenched as her pussy surrendered to his demand.

The feel of her release flowing over his fingers almost made him forget his promise and ram her with his greedy cock. But he clenched his jaw and stroked her inner walls again, extending her orgasm. Her movements were frantic and uncontrolled. Her tits bounced, and her hands clutched at his arms. Even her toes curled, dropping one high heel off as she shouted her second release.

“Y-you promised,” she gasped.

Her glazed eyes, green and piercing, captured him, ensnared him. He snarled at her and removed his hand. He licked his fingers, reveling in the taste. Then he turned her over so she lay facedown on his desk with her bare bottom on the edge, her legs spread so he could see her damp pussy.

He whacked her ass, wanting to remind her of the heat of his previous spanking. She moaned and moved to seek more. He unzipped his pants and dropped them. As he took his cock in his hands, she lifted up on her elbows and turned her head to watch.

She licked her lips as he stroked himself with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other.

“Tell me what you want, Victoria,” he ordered.

Without removing her glance from his stiff dick, she told him. “I want you to come on my ass. I want to feel it hit my skin. I want to smell like you all day.”

Her blatant request sent him over the edge, and with a snarling groan, he let go, his cum marking her ass and thighs. She rocked against the desk, her hand buried between her legs, and cried out as she came again.

He was breathing hard, his right hand on the desk to hold him up, his legs shaky. “If you were mine, I’d punish you for touching yourself,” he said in a guttural tone he couldn’t help. “I’d whip you with a flogger and put stripes on that perfect ass of yours. I’d suck your tits until you came.” Shit. What was he doing?

She was very still for a long time. The phone rang and startled them both. She rose from the desk and fled his office.

When she finally returned fifteen minutes later, she presented him with that cool exterior that kept him at arm’s length. She stood facing his desk, her clothes in perfect order, as if she hadn’t been facedown on it at all. “I’m afraid I made a mistake.”

“Victoria—”

“I shouldn’t have changed the parameters of our agreement.” She looked at him, and her gaze was pleading. He’d do almost anything to replace that desperate expression with the sensual flush she’d had before. “Please, Finch, I don’t want to stop the spankings, but—”

“But today was too much?” Yes, he’d gotten too close. She’d completely surrendered.

“I thought I could handle it. I’m sorry. I am. But I can’t- I can’t-” A panicked expression on her face brought him around the desk.

“It’s okay, Victoria. But we need to finish today’s session.” Gently, calmly, he wrapped his arms around her. “Shh, brat. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

The way she shook in his arms and then relaxed completely, holding on to him tight enough to stop his breath, broke his heart. “Don’t worry. We’ll go back to the same contract.”

“But you’ll still make up the kidnapping scene?” She raised her head and gazed at him intensely.

“I’ll write it up.” He’d probably never do it, though. How in the hell could he resist driving her to the erotic heights he wanted to take her? She was fragile. Yet there was a toughness he admired, a stubbornness he read in the set of her jaw and the steadiness of her stare. “I promise.”

She put her head back on his shoulder. “Thank you, Sir.”

He murmured against her hair. “Good girl.”

* * * *

“You tell that bastard I want to see him now,” a woman shouted at Atticus’s very fragile secretary. He was about to open the door and ream the unknown person, but Victoria only showed irritation when she came in and a woman pushed passed her.

“Yarina, this is Atticus Paulus.” Victoria shot him a warning look. “Mr. Paulus, this is Yarina Tourine.”

“Reena said you’re the one who cut my fucking budget,” the woman stated.

Atticus studied the woman who was the daughter of the CEO of Sunsoon, Victor Tourine. She resembled a gypsy, with long, dark hair and mysterious brown eyes. Her cheekbones were angled, and her bones were small. She was short, barely reaching his shoulder. His height and his position in the company didn’t seem to intimidate her at all.

“Yes, I did.” He waved toward a chair. “Would you sit down, please?”

Yarina leaned on his desk and glared at him. “You’re going to regret this. You think you know everything? You don’t. And I’m going to do whatever I have to do to protect myself.”

The woman whirled around and stomped out of his office. Atticus watched her leave and wondered. He and Victoria had not found the culprit behind the creative accounting used to cover up whatever Yarina’s department was doing. It would take a talented accountant to move money and hide it the way it was done.

“She is one scary bitch,” Victoria said from the door. She brought in two reports. “I found something.”

“Oh?”

“I started thinking that it might be easier to find whoever was cooking the books if I could pinpoint when the expenditures were being shifted.” She handed him two spreadsheets. “One of these is from over a year ago. It matches all the records I have, all the receipts.” She pointed to the second spreadsheet. “This one is from ten months ago. This is the first one I could find that had some discrepancies.”

“Was anyone hired at that time?”

Victoria shook her head. “No. But you should know that I think money has been diverted for longer than the spreadsheets show.”

“That pension restoration fund.” Damn it. Atticus gritted his teeth when Victoria nodded.

The pension restoration fund had been a deduction that Sunsoon had started taking out of employee’s checks to fix the faltering retirement account. All eight hundred Sunsoon employees, from L.A. to the Portland office, had money deducted for their pension. That money was invested. Unfortunately, with the economic downturn, the pension fund was hit hard. The employees gave a little more so that the pension fund could get out of the danger zone.

Apparently, the money hadn’t been added to the pension. With the fluctuations of the pension fund, it was difficult to trace. But not impossible.

“Who diverted it?”

“It’s a short list.” She met his gaze. “And I’d be number one on it.”

Not possible. He waved that comment away. “No. If it had been you, then I don’t think we would have traced the money at all.”

She laughed, and Atticus realized he hadn’t heard her do much of that lately. “That’s true, Finch. All right. All the department heads could do it, but they’d have to have some accounting experience. We’re back to our mystery money guy with an axe to grind.”

Atticus didn’t like it. Someone in the office had unauthorized access to their numbers. “Get Dimitri on the phone.”

When Victoria left his office, Atticus stared at the reports she had compiled. Damn her. She was so efficient, so smart he would have had no idea that his secretary was carrying a load of emotional baggage if he hadn’t been studying her intently. Whoever was diverting the funds had done it without getting Victoria’s attention. And with the way the second set of books were set up to direct guilt toward Victoria, it was someone who didn’t like her.

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