My Secretary, My Mistress Read online

  “Come closer,” he beckoned hoarsely. “Let me lick you.”

  “You want a taste?” she teased, the length of the small dildo appearing and disappearing into her tight sheath.

  “Yes,” he begged, thirstier than he’d ever been for a woman’s nectar.

  She pulled the dildo out of her sex, flashed him a wicked smile, and shoved the sex toy into his mouth.

  Grant’s first impulse was to gag, but Isabelle straddled his legs and watched him expectantly, two fingers still holding the bottom edge of her toy.

  He could not only taste her in his mouth, he could also smell her intoxicating, musky aroma. It turned him on. With his eyes locked on hers, he sucked on the dildo as she slid it in and out of his mouth. He licked and savored her sweet juices off the warm plastic, more aroused by this kinky act than he’d thought possible. Her eyes lit up in pleasure.

  Grant began to think the evening might turn out all right after all, until Isabelle let go of the dildo and moved away but didn't take it out of his mouth. She rifled through the pockets of her coat and pulled out something he didn’t recognize-and then an object that made him sweat.

  Grant spat out the toy. “What are you going to do with that?”

  He hated the tiny thread of fear that emerged when he spoke, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she turned with the switchblade cradled in her hand and stared at him.

  Then, with a wicked light in her eyes, Isabelle asked, “Are you ready?”

  The look of fear on Grant's face pleased Isabelle, as did the bulge in his pants. Poor Grant, warring between so many needs-the two predominant ones being his need to take control and the need to fuck her.

  Knowing he would be noisy, she grabbed the leather strap and bit she’d brought along and walked toward him. When he opened his mouth to protest, it was a simple matter to put the wooden bit between his teeth and secure the strap around his head. With his voice muffled, he was capable of only grunts.

  She picked up the switchblade again and methodically popped the buttons off his shirt. For what she had planned, she needed him naked, and she had no intention of untying him to get him into that state. Besides, slicing off his clothes was so much fun.

  When she’d taken care of all the buttons except for the one under the band of tape that bound him to the chair, she opened his shirt and bared his muscular chest. His heavy, erratic breathing made his pectorals rise and fall. Holding the knife between her teeth, she placed the palms of her hands over his nipples. They went taut at her touch. Pleased, she rolled the nubs between her fingers and pinched them. A pity he doesn’t have nipple rings. She quite enjoyed making a man gasp as she twisted the rings and brought him to his knees.

  Enough daydreaming. She had more work to do. She slid her hands across Grant’s muscled abdomen until she reached the waistband of his trousers, slipped the top button out of its loop, and then drew down his zipper.

  His erection poked out of the top of his briefs, its swollen head jerking as she looked at it. Taking the knife from her mouth, she went after his underpants, which had him grunting and thrashing beneath her.

  “Now, now, Grant,” she said, pausing to look him in the eye. She couldn’t help the mischievous smile that curved her lips. “I'm just going to slice this impediment out of the way, but if you keep bucking like a bronco-well, I won’t be responsible for any damage.”

  Grant immediately quieted, although his erection, if possible, grew even larger. Looks like my instincts were right. Grant might like plain vanilla sex, but the kinky stuff makes him rock hard.

  Isabelle applied her knife to the cottony fabric of his briefs. Alternately slicing and ripping, she pulled the tatters apart, exposing his rigid cock, which strained toward her like a homing beacon.

  Inspired, she hopped off his knees and bent over in front of him.

  His gasp was audible even through his gag.

  She grinned. God, I love being in control.

  Sweat broke out across Grant's brow, and he trembled. When his shaft had sprung forth from the remains of his briefs like a jack in the box-surprise!-he'd known fear. Yet even in the midst of it, he couldn’t help being aroused. She tortured him and, like a sadist, he lapped it up and yearned for more.

  He’d hoped that once she'd bared his flesh, the teasing would stop and the fun would truly begin. He’d seen the way she eyed his penis like it was the sweetest treat in the bakery. But instead, she’d bent over and continued the torment. He’d reached the point where he couldn’t decide which would feel better-more slow erotic torture that threatened to make him come, or finally plunging his cock deep inside her. Either way, his body screamed for release.

  The gag in his mouth prevented speech but couldn’t stop the moan he uttered. With her legs spread and her rounded bottom in the air, he had a perfect view of her sex. And not just that wet heaven, but what her fingers were now doing to it.

  She spread her slick folds beneath his avid gaze before sliding first one, then two, and later three fingers inside herself. Not only that, but she’d backed up close enough to him that his cock head brushed her fingers as they pumped in and out, each gentle stroke over his sensitized skin making him tremble.

  Grant groaned behind the gag and, to his secret surprise, found the feel of it in his mouth titillating. As if this sound were a signal, Isabelle slid her fingers out of her body's wet recess and ran the damp digits up and down the length of his cock. Then she grasped him firmly at the base and used him like an erotic toy, rubbing his swollen tip against her clit.

  They both panted as she rubbed his mushroom head against her swollen nub faster and faster. If his hands were free, he would grab her around the waist and slam his cock into her pussy. Ram his hard length into her, and then bounce her up and down on his lap until she clenched around him.

  But Isabelle was the queen of tease, a fact he discovered when she abruptly let him go, hopped onto his desk, and spread her legs wide, exposing herself to him. Putting her heeled feet on either side of his thighs, she rolled his chair forward until he sat between her legs, inches away from her molten core. The smell of her arousal made his mouth water.

  “Do you want to make me happy?” she asked, sliding a finger into her dampness as he watched, his eyes riveted on her moist flesh.

  Grant could only nod. He’d reached the point he would do almost anything.

  Leaning forward, she took off the gag that muffled him and held him by the hair. Then she drew him closer, tilting his chair backward so that his lower body slid under the desk and his face rested between her thighs.

  “Lick me, Grant,” she whispered. “Make me come in your mouth."

  He obliged, lapping his hot tongue over her sex, spreading her plump lips, and finally tasting her. She clamped her thighs around him tightly, dug her fingers into his scalp, and pulled his hair. His erection strained under the desk as he licked and sucked at her, her body going taut until she came with a whimpering cry and her sweet juices gushed into his mouth.

  Grant slipped his tongue inside of her, wanting to feel the quiver of her muscles as she orgasmed. The eroticism of the moment made his cock spurt, and he gasped against her swollen flesh. Fuck me. I can’t believe I just came like that.

  Isabelle pushed Grant away, rolling his chair backward until it hit the wall behind him. He looked dazed and she noticed his cock was now only semi rigid, the signs of his release all over his pants.

  Smiling like the cat who’d gotten into the cream, she stood slowly and grabbed her coat and toys without speaking.

  It was only when she unlocked the door and opened it that he finally spoke. “Where are you going?”

  She smiled inwardly at the edge of panic that colored his question. No longer did he sound like her commanding boss. She turned to him and lifted a brow in mock surprise. “Why, home, of course.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Isabelle tapped her lips in pretended thought. “Ooh, thank you. I quite enjoyed that. Goodnight
.”

  And, blowing him a kiss, she walked out of his office.

  He bellowed behind her, ordering her to come back and release him, but with a secret smile of satisfaction, she kept walking. Part one of her plan had been an unmitigated success. She couldn’t wait until part two.

  Chapter Two

  On Monday, Grant arrived at the office early and paced its length waiting for Isabelle to arrive. That is if, she had the guts to face him after what she’d done. He’d tried calling her over the weekend, but she must have been screening her calls, because he’d ended up reaching her voicemail each time. He’d thought about confronting her at home, but he’d only seen where she lived once in the dark while drunk. In the light of day when he’d driven by, the daunting row of townhouses had all looked the same and he’d refused to drive to the office like a desperate lovesick swain to look up her address.

  He had mixed feelings about what she’d done to him on Friday. He’d finally managed to release himself from her duct tape bondage after much straining and rubbing against his desk. The marks of his struggle to escape were now hidden by his dress shirt’s long sleeves. He hadn’t been able to hide all the evidence of his torture when he’d finally fled that night, however. His suit jacket hadn’t quite been able to conceal the stains of his cum, an embarrassing fact the security guard downstairs had noticed with a smirk.

  I still can’t believe she tied me up and used me as if I were some kind of sex toy-one that gives great tongue. Never mind that he’d enjoyed himself as well. Isabelle had called the shots and he knew that had he not come on his own, she would have left him tied up and suffering with a massive erection.

  But the worst part of it all was that he wanted to do it again.

  All weekend long, he’d fantasized about her. He wanted her to take charge of him again, for the experience had been nothing short of amazing. And now having had a taste of her kinky, dominant side, his Internet porn pictures and videos now paled in comparison. He needed Isabelle.

  Fuck, I’m rock hard again. Unlike at home this weekend, he couldn’t just whack off, although for a second he debated locking his office door and doing so. Or maybe leaving the door unlocked and having her walk in as he did it. Grant almost came in his pants at the thought.

  Where in hell is she? Grant went to his office door and peered out for what had to be the hundredth time.

  As if his thoughts had called her, in she walked, looking demure and unbelievably sexy in a simple flower print dress that emphasized her generous bosom and hourglass shape.

  Grant’s mouth went dry as his overactive brain imagined what she wore-or rather, what she didn’t-underneath her prim outfit.

  “Isabelle, could you come in here for a minute?” he asked quietly, standing to the side of his door lest she see the tent in his pants.

  Her baby blue eyes met his, and she curved her lips in a little smile. “I’m sorry, Grant, but I’ve got a pile of work to do. Can this wait until later?”

  He wanted to argue with her, to force her to come into his office, but both of their phones rang before he could and, to his frustration, he found himself busy the rest of the morning.

  When the noon hour arrived, he decided to ask Isabelle out to lunch-for sustenance, not sex-unless she had other ideas.

  However, she wasn’t at her desk when he emerged from his office.

  Damn it. She’s avoiding me. Kind of like he’d avoided her after they’d first had sex. Grant hated payback, especially when he was on the receiving end.

  But he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  * * * * *

  Isabelle listened absently to the handsome fellow she’d snagged as a lunch date. She had no interest in him at all. He was just another tool in her plan. And seeing Grant walk into the bistro across the street from the office, she implemented step two.

  Leaning forward and catching Derek-or was it Darren?-by surprise, she whispered in his ear, something so naughty his eyes widened. Then Isabelle flicked a glance at Grant, who watched them with a thunderous look on his face.

  She curved her lips in a naughty smile and kept up the intimate talk and touches with her temporary pawn until Grant left the bistro tight lipped and stiff legged. With her audience gone, she abruptly stood, leaving Darren-or was it Derek?-confused.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.

  Isabelle paid him no mind as she walked out of the bistro and headed for her nail salon. She wanted to be gone from the office long enough to give Grant the wrong idea.

  With her tummy tingling, she had to hold in the urge to giggle. She couldn’t wait to see the sparks fly when she got back.

  * * * * *

  The longer Isabelle stayed out for lunch, the more Grant simmered. He’d already sneaked back to the bistro and seen that she and the other man-a man he longed to punch out-were no longer there. Had they gone off somewhere together? Was she even now letting that stranger touch her?

  No. She’s mine! Grant cursed and punched the wall in his office. The pain of impact had him sucking his knuckles and bringing his anger and insane jealousy back under control. He didn’t understand his sudden possessiveness. All he knew was that he wanted to be the only one she touched and aroused.

  He didn’t want to share her, but she obviously didn’t feel the same way. And when she sauntered in almost forty-five minutes later with a smile on her face and freshly coiffed hair, Grant glowered. He hated not being in control, even if the situation excited him.

  “Whatever is wrong?” she asked when she finally came into his office. Her face was all smiles and sunshine.

  “How was your lunch?” he snapped, unable to stop the insane jealousy that consumed him.

  Isabelle’s lips curved in a sensual smile that made him, even in his anger, go rock hard.

  “Delicious,” she said with a purr.

  Grant growled in response. He had no right to feel jealous, because he’d been the one to ignore her the week before. But damn it, he regretted that now.

  “Listen, Isabelle,” he said, “about what happened…”

  “Don’t worry, Grant. I understand perfectly. You don’t want to be with me, and I’m sorry about what I did to you on Friday. It was terribly naughty of me. I promise it won’t ever happen again.”

  Then, with a wiggle of her heart shaped ass, she left, closing his door behind her and leaving Grant despondent.

  How could he make her understand that he wanted things to change? That he yearned for her to take charge of him again?

  * * * * *

  Isabelle sat at her desk and smiled. She’d seen the confusion on Grant’s face-and the desire, as well. But he hadn’t quite reached the point of needing her more than he needed air to breathe. But he’s close.

  Her plan was moving along perfectly. Actually, she’d almost completed the first phase-the conquering of her boss. Soon Grant, a commanding male in public, would be groveling at her feet. She couldn’t wait to hear him beg. Just the thought of him being on his knees, ready to indulge her every whim, made the crotch of her panties go wet.

  With a quick peek to see that no one was coming, she slipped off her damp panties and stuffed them into the top drawer of her desk on top of her Rolodex.

  One quick phone call later, she’d set the next part of her operation in motion. Fighting hard not to giggle in excitement-although the crux of her thighs was damp-she gathered her coat and purse and ducked out of the office early. Her next destination? Home, where she needed to get ready for the night’s upcoming adventure.

  * * * * *

  A firm knock at his door made Grant frown. That didn’t sound like Isabelle. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and a freckled faced intern peeked in. “Excuse me, sir, but I’ve got an urgent package for Ms. Isabelle Garret. She doesn’t seem to be at her desk.”

  Grant glanced at the clock. Still a few minutes shy of quitting time. He got up and walked into the vestibule “Is her coat gone?”

  The boy sh
rugged.

  Grant looked around and noticed that the coat tree now held only his jacket, and that Isabelle’s computer had been shut down. She left early without saying a word to me?

  “Just leave the package on her desk. She’ll see it in the morning.”

  “Oh no, sir.” The intern shook his head. “I was told to give this to Ms. Garret today personally,”

  “I see.” A thought popped into Grant’s head and refused to leave. “Why don’t you give it to me? I have to go out her way anyhow, and I’ll make sure she gets it tonight.” The lie slipped smoothly from his lips.

  The freckled faced young man didn’t catch the lie or care. With another shrug and a brief thank you, he handed over the package and left.

  Now to find Isabelle’s address. Grant pulled open the top drawer of her desk where he’d seen her hide the Rolodex. He paused and with a hooked finger, pulled out a skimpy scrap of lace. Isabelle’s underwear.

  Unable to resist, he brought the panties to his face and inhaled. Her sweet scent surrounded him, and the dampness of her juices wet his lips.

  Suddenly more randy than a teenager watching his first porn video, Grant walked back into his office and locked the door. If he didn’t want to embarrass himself with Isabelle, he should take care of his turgid problem before he reached her place.

  Unzipping his slacks, he pushed them down, sat in his chair, and pulled out his hard cock. Wrapping the soft, scented panties around his shaft, he stroked himself. He closed his eyes and put his head back, breathing deeply of her scent, which seemed to permeate the air. He thought of the tiny piece of fabric being so close to her body, intimately so. He stroked himself visualizing her perfect pink pussy, remembering how she’d tasted when she’d come on his tongue.

  Stifling a shout, Grant shot his load into her panties, his rigid cock pulsing.

  Damn. Even absent, she packed a potent sexual punch.