I was itching to let her know about Borden. I needed a sounding board, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, sceptically.
We talked for a little while longer before she had to go. I browsed the internet for a while, exhausting more Borden searches. My body weakened at the pictures of him, and I wondered how the hell I’d gone from hating the man to feeling like this for him.
*
Tuesday arrived after a long night from hell and there Borden was, sitting behind his desk, hard eyes on me the second I stepped into the office. Casual clothes today: black long sleeved shirt with the sleeves pulled up, revealing the tattoos on his tanned skin. I tried to smile politely at him, but his lips didn’t flinch in response.
“Good morning,” I said cheerfully, shutting the door behind, wondering if my tone was overdone since I was faking it.
“It’ll be a good morning with you dropping to your knees,” he replied severely.
I froze. Well, that escalated quickly.
I looked at him, waiting for him to crack a joke, order me to sit down – something. But he just stared, waiting.
“Um, what?”
“Drop to your knees. I haven’t seen you in over thirteen hours, and I’ve got blue balls from hell. And don’t look at me like I’m being crude. You’re a little minx when you want to be, so stop pretending this isn’t what you want.”
I glanced down at the plush red carpet, debating silently just how far I wanted us to go. Did I want him to order me around like this? And dropping down on my knees?
“Do it, Emma.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I asked, pushing my boundaries.
He chuckled condescendingly. “Is that what you want to play at? Trying to show me you still have one apprehensive bone in your body? We’ve long passed that point, doll. Get on your fucking knees.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” I replied, enforcing strength into my tone. “I don’t go on my knees for anybody just because they tell me to.”
“Then I guess I’m the exception.”
I should have been offended and angry – yeah, more angry than offended, really. But I knew what it felt like being taken by him, and it was exquisite…and addictive.
Plus, I’d gone on my goddamn knees the first time he took me. This wasn’t so different.
He didn’t repeat himself, but I saw the demand in his eyes as he continued to watch me internally debate with this. Only, I was fighting the inevitable. He’d get his way, and not because he’d force it, but because I would ultimately succumb to the want of being possessed by him. It was a rush, firing every nerve-ending with adrenaline.
My face heated as I slowly let go of the nagging voice in my head. I dropped to my knees, setting my purse down beside me. I kept my eyes focused on the floor, part of me uncertain, the other coiled in anticipation.
I heard him standing up and take a few steps, and when I risked a look, he was leaning back against his desk, arms crossed over his wide chest, the move stressing his bulging biceps. He appeared both intimidating and mouth-watering all at once, and I felt a lick of fire at the pit of my belly.
“Crawl to me,” he ordered softly.
Jesus, was he obsessed with pushing me out of my comfort zone?
I hesitated again, some deep part of me dismayed by the idea of actually having to move on my knees and hands. I let out a breath, and without thinking, I started to move slowly in his direction. I could feel the burn of his gaze on me, on the movement of my hips and shoulders.
I imagined what I must look like to him, this tiny little body dressed to impress, hair up, black tendrils falling and framing a half-cast heart shaped face, crawling in a straight line to a man more than double her size. Strangely enough, I felt sexy and wanted. His desire for me was written all over his face and it was that look alone that gave me strength to carry on.
I stopped in front of him and slowly looked up. He dropped his arms to his sides, one hand resting on the top of my head.
“You’re too fucking perfect,” he murmured in astonishment. “Hard yet adaptable. It’s the biggest turn on seeing you submit, and you like it, don’t you?”
“Only when it’s you,” I whispered, my throat closing up at the admission. I averted my gaze, not wanting him to see the affection that lurked in the depths. Caring felt like a weakness, yet I wanted to confront that emotion and share it with him.
He silently watched me, and maybe seconds passed, maybe minutes.
“Unbutton me,” he breathed out shakily.
On my knees, my hands flew to his jeans, eager in my movements. I unbuttoned him and pulled his zipper down, glancing up at his heavy smouldering eyes as he watched me fixedly. He didn’t need to give me more instructions. I pulled his briefs down and wrapped my hand around his length, slowly stroking him. He was hard already when I took him into my mouth. His hand fisted in my hair, and his body tensed. A soft guttural grown escaped his lips as I sucked him. The lick of fire inside of me burst into flames, and I squeezed my thighs together, searching for some kind of relief for the throbbing I felt there.
I took my time savouring him, licking a trail up and down his shaft. He rolled his hips, thrusting himself in and out of my mouth, squeezing hard at my hair as he shuddered above me. He was impossibly thick by the time he pushed me away, holding me a foot away from his cock, staring down at me in a fog of lust and hard-pressed lips.
“You like sucking me?” he asked heatedly.
“Yes,” I answered.
He shoved me forward again, and I opened my mouth to bring him back into it, but he grabbed at his cock before I got there and shoved the head of it in between my lips. He pumped a few times, his breaths growing heavier, and then he pulled out, slapping his cock against my cheek, wetting it.
“Fuck,” he cursed.
Then he pulled me up on my feet and forced me to stand in front of the desk. He moved behind me and carefully pushed my upper body down until my cheek was resting against his desk. My heart was battering in my chest, my breaths were unsteady, and my sex wet and needy. I heard him shuffle behind me, felt his hands roaming up my legs, and my skin tingled deliciously under his hot touch. He pulled my skirt up, bunching it around my hips, exposing my backside to him. I wore another pair of sexy thongs – score on me – and he delicately peeled it off of me.