Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Beg For It 1) - Page 67

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My phone blipped with a text message:

On my way back!

She was all right. Relief flooded me, sudden and unbidden. I didn’t like how it felt, with so much emotion bound up in her. So I replaced it with determination.

She was here for the week to be with me, to serve my needs. This wasn’t going to happen again. This wasn’t how the arrangement was supposed to work. Had I not been clear? Maybe I should have put it all in a 50 Shades-style contract, had her sign on the dotted line.

I’d teach her to keep me waiting. I’d show her who was boss. I’d have her panting and so desperate for me she’d be on her knees, literally, begging for me. That’s what I’d do. That was what would satisfy the beast in me. And teach her what she needed.

It took twenty minutes for her to get back. I used my time, making preparations. By the time she walked in the door, I sat cool and composed at my desk. It was coming up on my three o’clock call and I never missed an opportunity.

“Declan!” She burst in through the door, all smiles and excitement.

“You’re late,” I reprimanded her, cold water on her sunshine.

“Yes, I know.” Flushed, apologetic, she came toward me. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was just walking around and I lost track of time!”

“I said two o’clock.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looked so abashed I almost felt bad. Almost.

“You made me wait.” I sat there, stern. “No one does that.”

“Declan—”

“Kara, you know the kind of man I am. You know my high standards, my expectations. You know our agreement.”

She looked down at the floor.

“You’re going to need to do some work for me to show me your heart’s still in this.”

She looked up, an eagerness in her eyes that made my blood pump. “Sure, what would you like—?”

“In the bedroom. I’ve laid out some clothes for you. Change into them and then come back out. I’m about to get on a business call. I’m going to need a secretary.”

I turned away, focusing my attention on the screen of my laptop. I wanted her to know I was dead serious. Now wasn’t the time for playing, for chit-chat and gossip about the day. Now it was time for her to get to work.

I started my call at three o’clock, launching into my pitch without missing a beat. I’d get this guy to lower his price. I knew I would. I had to dominate this call.

Good thing I was listening, not talking when Kara came out of the bedroom. I knew what she’d be wearing, I’d laid it out, but I still wasn’t prepared. Words would have stuck in my throat. As it was, I sat there, my eyes burning into her as she approached my desk.

She wore stilettos, the black ones she’d had on before with the red soles. I’d found a good girl’s outfit in her closet, a slim pencil skirt and a fitted white blouse. She wore them now, but I’d changed things up underneath. Down below, nothing. I wanted her bare. And under the prim white blouse, she’d put on the bra I’d chosen. Black, padded, push-up, the bra thrust out Kara’s large breasts and made the shirt so tight she couldn’t even button it up all the way. She had to leave the top two undone so you could see her black bra emerging, her slutty cleavage, rising up from the white blouse. It took the conservative, pulled-together outfit and made it pornographic.

She’d put her hair up into a neat bun. That’s how I knew she was into it. She knew what I wanted. I wanted her to be my secretary, and she was signing up for the position. Now I needed to give her her first assignment.

I looked up at her from behind my desk. She smiled shyly, demurely, seeking my approval. I wasn’t giving it. Not yet. I punched the call onto mute.

“Sit,” I ordered her, pointing to a hard wooden chair. I’d taken it from over by the kitchenette and placed it a few feet away from me.

Tentatively, she walked over and sat down, perched on the chair like it might bite her. She crossed her legs and looked at me, awaiting her next command.

“Take notes on my call.” I gestured to a legal pad and pen I had on my desk. “And keep them neat. I’m going to need you to read them back to me.”

I took the call off mute and lit into the other end. They needed to know I wasn’t messing around. I’d made my offer and it was final.

While I called the shots, Kara, unsure, took the pen and paper. Her eyes flit up to me, then down to the pad and she started scribbling away. Only problem was, she started bending down. That wasn’t going to work. I required a view while I conducted my business.

I put the call on mute again. “Keep that pad of paper down on your lap. And take your tits out so I can see.”

Her eyes went round with surprise. She always seemed so shocked when I talked dirty to her. I liked that. I really liked how turned on it got her.

She placed the pen and pad on her lap, then brought her fingers to her top and hesitated. I didn’t know if it was because she felt shy, or she wasn’t sure how to comply. I let her work it out. Surrender came so sweet after a struggle.

Biting her lower lip, she decided to unbutton her blouse a bit more. Then she slid a hand down inside of the black satin and pulled her breast up so I could see, the pink nipple exposed out over the bra. My eyes narrowed at the sight and I suppressed a hiss of satisfaction. She did the same with her other breast, the two creamy mounds and pink buds now forced up and out for my enjoyment. Combined with the conservative nature of the blouse and slim grey skirt, she looked like every man’s fantasy of the naughty secretary. But she was mine, all mine.

I put the call back on and talked through some more points. I made my case, persuaded and intimidated. And I watched Kara, her tits on display as she took notes. I could tell her breathing was becoming more labored. Her nipples formed tight peaks. She liked this. She liked serving me. My cock hardened in response, pressing for release. Not yet.

Kara diligently took notes on my conversation, but the pad of paper had snuck up again, at an angle threatening to block my view. Pointing at it to command her attention, I mouthed the word, “Down.”

Instantly, she complied, pad down, breasts out, her nipples stiff pink points. Still speaking on my call, I reached out and pinched one between my thick thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t think you understand. I mean what I say,” I barked to the men on the phone. I took Kara’s other nipple in my fingers, pinching it and tugging it so that it matched the other, both nipples aroused and straining from my touch. Kara bit her lower lip and a soft sound came from her throat, needy. Pointing at her notes, I whispered, “Make sure they’re neat.”

She squirmed in her chair and I wondered how wet she was getting, no panties, showing her tits to me. My sweet Kara, so pretty and so nasty.

On the phone, I called the shots, the alpha male, the prick. I owned this deal. I knew I did. They knew it, too. The guy caved. He agreed to my terms, signing an e-document before we even got off the phone. And that was how you got things done.

Shutting down the phone, I turned to Kara.

“Read back the transcript. Now.”

She shook slightly as she held the pad between her fingers. Good. I wanted her nervous, aroused, anticipating, feeling that adrenaline surge when you stood up in front of class and read your paper aloud. If she messed up, she’d get in big trouble. She began reading her notes back with a tremor in her voice.

“Bring your chair closer,” I told her, gruff, pointing between my thighs. “Here.” She stood and slid her chair closer, right between my legs. “Now pull your skirt up before you sit. I want to see if you were a good girl and dressed like I told you.”

Biting her lip, she gathered the sides of her neat, gray pencil skirt in her fists and then drew them up her silky thighs. She brought the fabric up right to the start of her pussy, then sat down with her legs slightly parted.

Naked, I could see now, her sex bare and glistening and already ready for me. Just how I wanted her, my Kara.

“Read,” I ordered. A few tendrils escaped her

bun as she began reading back the notes she’d taken, her large breasts exposed and heaving. Her hands shook as she held the pad of paper.


Tags: Callie Harper Beg For It Erotic
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