Page 83 of Arranged Addiction
“From now on, you will accompany me to all of my meetings. I expect you to be in the office, at your desk, at eight sharp every morning. There will likely be some late nights in the future. Do you understand?”
“That’s fine, Declan, but?—”
He stares at me. “What did you just call me?”
My heart rate doubles. “I’m sorry, Mr. Whelan.”
“You’ll call mesirtoday.” He turns stiffly. Is this how it’ll be? Is he trying to put everything back in that sex-toy box? Maybe he thinks if we revert to the way we used to be, everything will be okay.
My mouth waters with excitement. “Yes, sir. Whatever you need.”
“Very good.” He steps closer, head tilted to the side, eyes roaming down my body. They linger on my skirt. “What are you wearing?”
I shrug and squirm a little under his gaze. “It’s nothing special. You’ve seen me in this a dozen times.”
“You’re right. I have. And each time I’ve always thought it was a little… bit… too… short.” He looms over me. His jaw works. “You’ve really disappointed me already this morning, Ms. Brennan.”
“Shouldn’t you be calling me Mrs. Whelan?”
His eyes flash and I can’t tell if I’ve pissed him off or excited him. “That’s right… Mrs. Whelan.” He walks around me slowly. “Step closer to my desk.”
“For what?”
“Do as I say.”
“Yes, sir.” I move forward, heart racing up into my throat.
“Palms flat. Lean forward.”
I hesitate. “Like this?” I put my hands down on the top of his desk, pushing some paper aside to do it.
“Good girl.” He comes closer. “Legs spread. Look at that inappropriate skirt. The way it slides up your ass.”
“Yes… yes, sir.” Excitement burns into my core. “Are you punishing me for being late, sir?”
“That’s right, Mrs. Whelan.” He kicks my legs wider and grips my hair. I gasp in alarm. His mouth finds my neck. “And for wearing such a slutty skirt.”
“Shit,” I whimper as he yanks the hem up over my ass. He grips the top of my tights and yanks them down, exposing my panties. “What… what do you want me to do, sir?”
“I want you to come for me. But not until I say you’re allowed. That’s what I want, Mrs. Whelan.”
“Oh, god—” He spanks me hard. I gasp in alarm as he grips my hair and pulls my chin up into the air. He spanks me again and again before his fingers stroke along my seam over my panties, sending a burst of pleasure into my core to mix with the pain.
“You think that just because you’re my wife, you don’t have to follow my rules anymore. But so long as you’re still my employee, Mrs. Whelan, youwillobey. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” I gasp, mouth hanging open, as he spanks me again. But this time, he yanks my panties down and palms my pussy, stroking me up and down. I moan, eyes rolling back. “Oh, fuck… sir… that feels good.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mrs. Whelan. Control yourself.” He sinks his fingers inside me.
My knees tremble as bliss hammers into my core. “Yes… sir… I’ll try, sir.”
“Such a little slut for me,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers in and out. “You were made for this, weren’t you, Mrs. Whelan? You were built to get fucked and spanked in my office.”
“Yes… yes, sir. Whatever you need, sir.”
He steps back. I look over my shoulder as he unbuckles his belt. My heart hammers in my chest as he takes off his pants, kicks them aside, and slips his hard cock from his boxer briefs. Slowly, he strokes himself, staring at me.
“Don’t move.” He steps closer. “Can you obey, Mrs. Whelan? Can you still follow orders?”
