Forehead to forehead, we make up for all this week’s missed kisses until I can’t hold still. “There we go. Come for me.” He whispers to me all through the pressure’s buildup and long after I’m quaking in his arms, trembling in the aftershocks of my climax.
After, I trace his tattoos and the ridges of muscle within my reach. “You are so handsome, Kodiche.”
He hums and kisses my forehead. “I’m glad you think so. You're the marvel though. Tell me about this scar.” His fingers trace over the ridge on my hip.The memory makes me tense. “That’s from where I donated bone marrow to a girl I met at the hospital. I apparently have the same rare blood type and other things they were looking for. I was a match, but it wasn’t enough and she passed not long after.” There isn’t much more to the story, and I fall silent for a minute. “Is it my turn to ask you something?”
He finally pulls out of me, making me hiss. Kissing me lightly, as if he were made from feathers, he reclines next to me on the bed. “Ask away.”
Cupping my stomach, I bite my lip. “I’m on birth control, but you never asked. Aren’t you worried about getting me pregnant?”
“I had a vasectomy years ago. I had one that can be reversed if I want it done. I wasn’t interested in having kids after seeing what happened to...” He cuts himself off. “I used condoms with other women, and I'm clean, if you were worried.”
“No, I had just wondered.” And now I’m wondering what he was about to say about having kids. Instead, I move on with my original question. “I overheard you—just a little—on a call. What was it about?”
He goes still, barely breathing. “I knew you heard some of it with how you reacted. If you must know, firing you would make my shareholders very happy. Making them happy is all I used to care about.”
“Used to?”
“Get cleaned off and dressed,” is his response. Cold, shutting down, Kodiche rolls off the bed and stands. “We have two more days of training to do.”
Still naked as he walks away, I admire the way he moves and how the ink of his tattoos seems to come alive. The tribal bear paws on each of his shoulder blades are incredibly sexy. They don’t compare to the way he fucks, and definitely not to the way we kissed. My lips still tingle from our kisses, like we were lovers who have been doing this for decades. He knows every little way to make me respond; it's effortless between us.
But what’s going to happen after these two days? The shareholders are not going to be happy unless I’m fired. Why should I keep training as his submissive for just this week to go back to being fired? Even in the best case of keeping my job, are we just going to kiss one another farewell that last morning and return to, “Good morning, Mr. Lamant. Can I get you some coffee?” followed by him saying, “Thank you, Miss Robbins. I would appreciate it,” in his all-business tone? To think of never hearing him call me his “good girl” again makes a hollow pit open in my stomach.
Touching my lips, I cringe away from that thought. As new as all this is to me, I don’t know if I could go back to being just his office assistant. Not when I’ve seen the cute dimples above his ass or the way he dances in his chair to music while working when he thinks I’m not noticing. He’s never been that unguarded before, not even when it was just the two of us working late. Something inside him has unlocked to show me a glimpse of the real him, and it would be a true loss to not encounter this side again.
Getting off his bed, I hurry to clean up and get dressed. No matter what does or does not happen, I don’t want to disappoint him. I hate that more than anything.
9
I stare at the outfit draped across the end of my bed. All I can do is hope Kodiche doesn’t expect me to leave the house in this. It is utterly indecent, so revealing that I don’t even know where one would buy clothing like this. There’s no bra set out for me, but looking at the neckline, I don’t think a bra would work with this dress.
Is it even a dress? I think shirt is more accurate. It’s low-cut enough that I can see the inner curves of my breasts and even the lower edge of skin where my boobs and midriff meet. And the hemline is practically non-existent. If I so much as breathe too deeply, the mirror shows my ass. The panties he chose for me are not any better. White cotton, they looked deceptively innocent at my first glance. Then . . . Then I picked them up and noticed they’re crotchless. They hide nothing. The shoes he chose for me are more like ballet slippers with ribbons that wrap around my lower legs. After my near fall, Kodiche has wanted me to keep my feet on the ground.
It’s only a short distance from my bedroom to the home office on this level, but I take my time, trying to feel sexy in the scraps of fabric he calls clothing. I know I’m blushing when I enter the room; I can feel the heat on my face making me glow. I don’t think the hot wax he mentioned last night as a potential lesson could be any warmer than my cheeks right now.
“Do I look okay, sir?” I approach him with measured steps, turning to let him see the whole outfit before dropping down to kneel in front of him. It’s the one thing he doesn’t have to remind me of anymore. I kneel by instinct, loving the way he looks at me with a combination of pride and lust.
It’s the way he’s looking now, like he wants to eat me alive. “Spectacular,” he answers. “Up on your feet. Turn around for me, Vivian.” I steady myself on his desk as I get up and turn, knowing the dress has to be showing my ass. My skin is cool, definitely exposed.
“You are so fucking spectacular. Now bend over in front of me. Show me that pretty ass of yours.”
Mortification floods me as I picture the position he wants me in, of knowing what he’s probably going to ask for, but that’s second to being turned on, and I do as he asks. I love hearing his voice shake with desire. I do that to him.
“Oh fuck, baby. You look so fucking hot. Vivian, you are absolutely beautiful. I don’t even know where to start. The way you fill out this dress is outstanding. Your curves were made for this dress. I just knew it would be perfect on you, and you’re even better than I had fantasized. And the way you came in here so ready to please me, dropping to your knees?” His hands come up to my ass, gently stroking me at the edge of the underwear. “Vivian, you’ve grown so much in these past six days. I’m so happy that you’re learning to listen and obey all that I ask of you. I know it’s hard to be my good girl.”
One hand drops down from where he’s touching me, and I miss him immediately. “I’m hard for you,” he chuckles. “I’m going to make sure to reward you for your good behavior.” He pushes me down over his desk.
The wood bites into my stomach and thighs, and it’s icy against my chest, but the hot breath focused between my legs is the only thing that matters to me. Each time he inhales, he gets a little closer, and when he exhales, the heat teases me with hopes that he’ll touch me. I don’t care if it’s his tongue or a finger, I need more than just to be looked at.
“Yes, Vivian, I’ll make you come. You’re so pretty like this, on display for your boss. I could eat your juicy cunt every day as my dessert.” His lips brush me in a naughty kiss, and I buck my hips backwards to try and get more. THWACK! His hand slaps my ass, spanking me harder than he has ever given me as a first warning blow. “Hold still.” Kodiche’s command is one that allows no argument.
Gripping the far edge of the desk, I try to do as he asks. Hot and wet, his tongue probes me, licking between the lips that hide my clit and entrance, and I just get used to that when he buries his whole face in my pussy and starts to eat me out for all he’s worth.
From clit to the edge of my ass and back again, Kodiche uses his lips, chin, nose, and tongue to get me off, never letting me fully come back down. There aren’t circles or thrusts. It’s just Kodiche devouring my pussy, switching his focus often and constantly moving, and I can’t tell when I stop coming, or if I just keep going in one long orgasm. It’s soul-crushing in intensity.
At the brink of begging him to stop, when it really is too much for me to bear, he shoves bac
k in his chair, wheeling away from me. He may as well have dumped ice water on me; the sudden end to my pleasure is painful. Wanting more, needing him inside me, I push back and wiggle, hoping to entice him.
“I said ‘hold still,’” he snaps. He slaps my back, but it’s something larger than his hand, and it stays there—hard and heavy. “I wondered how you got into my head and knew what my dirtiest thoughts were. How you knew how to push my buttons the way you did when you asked me to punish you. Then I saw this morning that my book wasn’t how I left it.”
Kodiche flips me over unceremoniously, and my back hurts as I land back on the desk. At this position, my boobs are hanging out of the dress, nipples poking out as they beg for his mouth or hands. And the panties aren’t doing a thing except covering the lower edge of my stomach and a tiny triangle at the top of my ass. His erotica book is beside me, having fallen off me when he turned me roughly. I’m glad it’s not underneath me.
Tracing my inner thighs, Kodiche’s hands don’t stop moving. He hikes my dress up even more, exposing me fully. “I need to know,” he asks calmly, “if you were just playing me to keep your job.” His voice is quiet and thoughtful, the way you might ask someone how they’re coming on a project at work.
How can he even ask that? Baffled by the change in his mood and the question, I lean up on my elbows so that I can look him in the eye. “I agreed to do everything you said; you knew what was happening. Besides,” I continue, “wasn’t this whole week your idea? You told me I had to be here for seven days and do every last thing you asked me to.”
He goes silent, eyes squinting as he looks at my exposed pussy. When he agrees, it’s cryptic and unnerving. “Yes, you did agree to do everything I said.”
Without explaining further, Kodiche reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of lube and a purple anal plug. I’ve never done anything like that, but for him I can try.
“Sir?” I wait until his gaze meets mine. “I’ve never had anything in me . . . there.” I hesitate at the last moment, suddenly shy. “Can you go slow so it doesn’t hurt too much? Please? I’m willing to do it, but I’m scared of the pain.”