Page 15 of Serving the CEO

Like basking in the memory of Jessica Ellis and those snapping gray eyes that had turned as turbulent as a thunderstorm right before she stalked out of my office.

* * *

Jessica was still on my mind as I let myself into my penthouse later that night.

It was a day of frustration, most of which centered on my inability to stop thinking about her. Then there was the mess I created by letting Griffin go when it turned out she was the one who knew that project inside and out. I was too irritable even to consider hitting a bar for a drink or my club for a fuck. Instead, I spent an hour in my home gym, but even a few hard miles on the treadmill and a session with weights didn’t make it any easier to chase her from my mind.

She’d called me a bully.

I didn’t like that.

I was doing my job. Being the boss.

The accusation made me want to bend her over, paddle that sweet little ass of hers, and show her how much of a bully I could be.

And that thought was the one that told me it was time to be done working out. I had a fucking iron bar in my shorts and there was only one thing that could help with that.

My bathroom filled with steam as I climbed into the shower. Letting the hot water pound down on my aching muscles, I imagined bending her over the high frame of my bed, baring smooth skin that just begged to be marked. Bringing my hand down on the curve of her ass, turning pale flesh pink.

Had she ever been spanked before?

I doubted it.

She had a powerful air of sensuality, but there was nothing submissive about her, and if I was being honest with myself, I kind of liked it. I just didn’t want anybody challenging me in my place of business. Especially an employee.

I wrapped a hand around my cock, and stroked, the hot glide of water easing the way as I fantasized about showing her exactly who was in charge.

I’d demand she bend over my desk and pull up her dress so I could see what she was wearing underneath, to determine if it was work-appropriate. In my imagination, of course, she wasn’t. She had on only the tiniest of thongs and when I tore it off, she argued, asked what she was supposed to wear for the rest of the day.

I told her to go bare.

Then I asked if her hair was red or blonde. When she realized what I was asking, that delicious temper of hers flared and she said it was none of my business.

That earned her the first smack to one firm cheek.

Just the thought of the sound she would make the first time I made contact had my cock swelling in my hand.

I wouldn’t let up after that, slowly increasing how hard my hand came down until her soft whimpers gave way to broken cries. I’d tell her all the things she’d done wrong, punctuated with the crack of my palm against her ass, until she begged for forgiveness, and then begged me to fuck her.

I’d make her beg me to take her right there, bent over my desk, where anyone could walk in and see the cherry red skin of her ass. See how wet she’d gotten for me.

Only for me.

And she’d tell me exactly that. She’d plead for me to fill her pussy, to own it. Own her.

But I’d tell her that bad girls didn’t get their pussies fucked. Bad girls got fucked in the ass.

She’d argue, of course, even as I slicked a finger in her cunt and then worked a single digit past that little ring of muscle. I could almost feel how tight and hot she’d be around my finger. I’d tell her to hold her ass open for me so I could watch my finger go into her. She’d say she didn’t want to, but she’d do it, anyway.

Then, when it was time for her to take my cock, I’d start slow, easing into her just fast enough to make it hurt, but not so much I’dactuallyhurt her. If she’d never been spanked, I doubted anyone had ever fucked her ass. I’d been the first one there, the first one to make her understand the way the line between pain and pleasure could blur. I’d have her impaled there, writhing on my desk while she tried to decide if she hated it…or loved it.

She’d be dripping by the time I really got going. I’d need to put my hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming with pleasure when I made her come. And then I’d make her say it. Make her tell me she’d come harder with my cock in her ass than she’d ever come before. Tell me she wanted me to come in her, fill her ass with…

With a groan, I climaxed, my vision whiting out for a brief, blissful moment. My cum splattered on the wall and my knees almost gave out.

Fuck.

Was there any way reality could be better than fantasy?