An Excerpt from Pleasing Sir

Following is a scene from Pleasing Sir.

One adventurous little submissive is just what the bosses need…

Raelie might be a submissive in search of just the right Dom, but she’s not the kind to sit back and wait for the right man to happen. When she gets the chance to fill in as Bryce Caldwell’s executive assistant, she decides some subtle seduction is needed to see if he dominates the bedroom the same way he does the office.

Bryce can’t keep his mind off the sexy blonde sitting just outside his office. Especially not after the security cameras in the copier room catch Raelie “misappropriating” office property. A little disciplinary action leads to a whole lot of complication while he tries to find out whether she’s the right assistant to fulfill a special vacancy. Add a second round of interviews, and suddenly, Bryce is finding out he’s not the only one who’s not sure who’s really in charge.

Content advisory: oral sex, voyeurism

Bryce hit the function key on his keyboard that opened a dozen different views from the security cameras staged around the office, looking for her, Morgan a silent witness at his shoulder.

Miss Raelie Wood wasn’t at her desk. He wished he could resist her powerful allure because it wasn’t like he didn’t have work to wrap up or that he couldn’t find a woman he didn’t have to stalk. However, Raelie filled his thoughts to distraction.

Bryce recalled how her eyes had slid shut in ecstasy while she’d massaged her breasts Tuesday morning after he’d watched her bend over his desk. He’d been unable to look away, hoping that damned little button would slip out of its hole and offer him a glimpse of her full, firm breasts.

Yesterday during lunch, he’d gone rock hard the moment her fingers had brushed his cock. He’d sat in an agony of suspense wondering if she’d done it on purpose or by accident. In the end, the answer to that question hadn’t really mattered. He still hadn’t decided whether she was the one, which meant he couldn’t make a move on her. So he’d locked his outer office door and took care of the erection in his private bathroom before he’d been able to continue working.

This afternoon, watching her play with that damned string of large white pearls while one sleek thigh scissored atop the other had been sheer torture. He’d rushed through the meeting agenda to push the men out of the office before he betrayed the uncomfortable extent of his distraction.

Raelie was becoming an obsession. Every pout of her lips, even the way she gazed up at him, wide-eyed and expectant, had driven him slowly into blue-ball hell. He was quickly realizing that the timetable he’d worked out in his mind for a careful seduction, once Kathryn returned, didn’t take into consideration his constant state of arousal or the blonde woman’s tenacity.

For the sake of his business and his sanity, he either had to fire her or step up the schedule.

“There,” Morgan said, leaning over his shoulder and pointing toward the entrance to the copier room.

She stood in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder, an action made suspicious by the furtive way she looked up and down the hallway. Was she planning to steal supplies from the cabinet?

He set his cursor over the view into the room, watching her enter and quietly lock the door behind her.

“Is our little Raelie a thief?” Morgan said, laughter in his voice.

“I don’t think so,” Bryce said, his body tightening with irritation.

Morgan might be his partner in business and one of his wingmen when he cruised the clubs, but this time, Bryce felt oddly possessive toward this particular woman. She had to be his first. He wished like hell he hadn’t been tempted to mention the fact to Morgan. Now, Morgan felt it was his duty to help Bryce make a hook-up.

She walked toward the copier and slipped her feet out of the pretty pink pumps that had teased him all through the meeting with the crew. Then she reached for the hem of her skirt and lifted it on one side. Her free hand disappeared beneath it and a wispy bit of lace drifted down her long, silky legs toward the floor.

When the hell had she removed her pantyhose?

“Do you think she has a clue we have a camera in there?” Morgan murmured.

“Obviously not,” Bruce clipped, annoyed that Morgan was enjoying his tension.

Morgan had been the one to tempt him with the security cams the day Raelie occupied Kathryn’s desk. Ever since, Bryce had been obsessed, tapping keys to find her a dozen times a day, watching for a glimpse into her thoughts, looking for a hint of how to entice her to play.

However, he quickly discovered he was the one caught. Just watching the swell of her breasts as she breathed turned him on. Temptation was making him the worst sort of perv, not that Morgan seemed to have the same scruples as he leaned closer to the screen.

Raelie took a small step stool and placed it next to the copier then opened the cover and turned. Pulling up her skirt in back to expose her bottom, she sat on the glass.

“Fuck!” Morgan breathed.

Bryce wanted to give him a shove, but couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen.

Raelie’s skirt pooled around her hips, cutting off their view of her lush ass. Holding up her skirt in front with one hand, she reached between her legs and hit the start button. Light flashed, rolling beneath her. Paper spat out the side.

She leaned over, glancing at the sheet resting on the hopper. Her nose wrinkled, and then both her hands disappeared between her legs. She wiggled a bit and bent to mash the button again.

Morgan smacked his shoulder. “Look in the queue, dumbass.”

“What?” he said, shaking his head, unwilling to look away from the young woman who smiled impishly as she took pictures of her intimate parts.

Morgan snorted. “It’s a new machine. Didn’t you pay attention to the demonstration?”

“Of course not,” Bryce said nastily, his gaze still glued to the monitor. “It’s what I have a secretary for.”

“You’ll be glad I was listening.” Morgan shoved Bryce’s chair aside and commandeered the keyboard. He opened a file, and then clicked on an icon for a document.

A picture filled the screen—Raelie’s pretty, shell-pink pussy bracketed by pale buttocks, her lovely, orchid-shaped inner lips spread to display the opening of her vagina, which was deep and dark…beckoning.

“She’s a real blonde,” Morgan murmured.

Bryce clamped his jaw closed, the rush of blood toward his cock robbing him momentarily of the ability to speak.

“Well, will you lookie there,” Morgan said, touching the screen twice, pointing to the glints of gold piercing her inner lips. Morgan turned to Bryce and waggled his eyebrows. “Think she knows we can access what’s printing?”

“Of course not,” Bryce said, scowling at his grinning friend. “She’d be mortified.” Bryce hesitated a moment, then ground out, “Print it. Print every one of them. Then delete the entire file. But use another computer.”

While Morgan hurried out of his office, Bryce switched back to the video feed in the copier room.

Raelie hopped off the glass and smoothed her skirts down her sides. She gathered the copies from the hopper then bent over to grab her panties from the floor. She used them to wipe the copier glass and balled them up inside her fist. Taking a deep breath, she walked back to the door and unlocked it.

Morgan sped back into his office, papers clutched in one hand, which he slammed against Bryce’s chest. “Done,” he said, with a sly look. “What are you gonna do with them?”

“Morgan, have a seat there,” Bryce said, pointing toward the sofa to the side.

Morgan raised a brow. “Thought you might be worried about embarrassing her.”

Bryce snorted, anger building in his gut. “Not anymore. She played us, buddy. When she bent for her panties, she pointed her sweet little cunt right at the camera.”

Morgan’s grin reflected delight, which annoyed the hell out of Bryce.

Bryce tightened his tie and headed out of the office to find the not-so-innocent Miss Raelie Wood and let her know there were consequences for misappropriating office property.

The wait was over.

Raelie bent to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer of the EA’s desk and slipped inside the panties and the copies she’d made.

Bryce’s office door opened, and she straightened, knowing her face burned. She hoped he didn’t intend to stay much longer, because she needed to get into the online copier folder and delete the pictures of her pussy.

“Do you have a minute, Ms. Wood?” he said, his words sounding clipped.

“Of course, sir,” she said breathlessly, still horribly aroused. She’d wiped the copier glass with her panties, but knew she’d have to return with some Windex. She’d gushed arousal as the machine vibrated and heated beneath her bottom. She’d imagined Bryce looking at the pictures of her cunt, and she’d been transported.

His face looked so stern as she passed him upon entering his inner sanctum that she faltered for a moment, wondering if she’d been caught after all. However, Morgan sat on the dark leather couch inside. Surely, this was all about business. He wouldn’t chastise her in front of another man. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave, sir?”

Bryce’s eyes narrowed, and he stared for a long, disconcerting moment.

Raelie fought the urge to fidget. If he was the guy, he’d want her to show greater self-control. Still, she couldn’t help lifting her chin a notch and meeting his gaze.

A soft snort gusted from his otherwise implacable face. Then Bryce thrust a paper toward her.

Raelie glanced down, saw the picture of her genitals, and felt a flush of humiliation heat her cheeks and creep down her throat to the tops of her breasts. This was so not how she had imagined she’d feel in her fantasies. “I can explain…” she began, but couldn’t continue when she looked up again.

His expression didn’t betray a thing—not disgust or anger, and sadly not a hint of arousal. “Miss Wood, what were you thinking?” he said, his voice dead even.

She bit her lip, preparing a story then winced as he lifted a brow as if to say, I dare you to lie to me. But she did it anyway, although not with as much conviction as she might have wished. He was just too scary at the moment. “Um…I wanted to see my piercings?” She waited, and when he didn’t immediately respond, blurted, “I’ll pay for the toner and the paper, sir.”

Bryce’s eyes were fierce, frightening slits—completely sexy—which was not something she should be thinking right this moment. Not when she was about to be fired.

“This is misappropriation of office equipment,” he rasped softly, like Dirty Harry to a perp. “A firing offense. What do you think I should do with you?”

Raelie froze, heat draining away as the blood left her face. “Perhaps you could suspend me instead?” she asked hopefully. After all…he’d asked.

“Suspension seems a little light for this kind of infraction,” Morgan said from the sofa.

There wasn’t of hint of teasing in his hard voice. Lord, had her sin been so bad that even Morgan Markham was shocked? Shame shivered through her. She closed her eyes. It was one thing for Bryce to see the picture. But Morgan too? What had she been thinking? She bent her head. “Maybe you could…” She bit her lip. The only retribution she could think of that she deserved seemed every bit as inappropriate as her “infraction”…and completely self-serving.

“What, Miss Wood?” Bryce insisted, stepping closer and folding his arms across his chest. “What do you think I should do?”

She didn’t back away. Each shortened breath dragged in his spicy scent and warmed the parts that had burned when the copier light hit them. Slowly, she looked up. “Maybe you could…spank me?”

A choking sound came from the couch.

Bryce aimed a killing glare at his partner before focusing on her again. “Spank you? Does that seem an appropriate and professional punishment? It sounds like something the State Employment Board would definitely frown upon.”

She quickly shook her head, although she knew her continued insistence could get her fired for sure. If she was about to get the boot, she couldn’t blow this last chance at getting what she wanted. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Now or never. “I would never tell. I’ve wanted your attention for the longest time, sir.”

Bryce blinked, his expression still neutral, but she saw a hint of tension in the grinding of his jaw. Then his gaze softened, fractionally.

His hesitation gave her hope. Raelie felt a rush of power sweep through her. If he was intrigued, here was a weakness she could exploit. She turned abruptly away and glanced over her shoulder—at him then at Morgan—and walked around him to his desk, bent over the gleaming wood, and reached back to inch up her skirt over her bare buttocks. “Just for the record, sir, you didn’t ask me to do this.”

“Looks like Bryce could be the one to scream sexual harassment,” Morgan murmured. “Want me to leave, Bry, while you…uh, handle this?”

“We’re partners,” Bryce said, his voice still level. “It’s our copier she abused.”

Raelie faced forward and rose on her tiptoes, lifting her bottom higher. Seconds ticked by. The longer she laid there, her ass perked for them both to see every inch of her feminine anatomy, the more nervous she got. Her stomach clenched. Maybe she’d misinterpreted the signs and colored them with her own desires.

At last, the slide of leather through cloth told her he was removing his belt. She bit back a whimper at the thought, but a tiny groan slipped out.

“Are you afraid of my belt, Miss Wood?”

“Yes, sir,” she said in a small tight voice, so excited she thought she’d melt from the inside out and end up a gooey puddle at the foot of his desk.

A warm, heavy hand cupped one cheek, molding it. Clothed thighs pushed against the backs of hers. Bryce leaned in and pinned her to the desk. “I’ve watched you, Miss Wood. You’ve been playing me all along, trying to seduce me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” What else could she say? She’d laid it all out, sacrificing her pride to reach this moment.

“I’m a particular kind of man,” Bryce said. “Some might even say peculiar or deviant. Does that frighten you?”

Jesus, did he mean it the way she hoped? Her mouth went dry and she swallowed. “No sir, I’m not frightened.”

“Just so we’re clear. You can stop me at any time. Your job is not at risk. You can say no. Do you understand?”

She nodded eagerly, her excitement growing so intense she couldn’t catch a full breath.

The hand on her ass squeezed. “I need an answer, Miss Wood.”

Her pussy clenched, and moisture seeped to wet her folds. “Yes sir, I understand. You’ll stop if I ask you to.” She took a deep breath and deepened her voice, “This is consensual, something I need…so that I can be a better secretary.”

A muffled laugh sounded from the sofa then leather creaked.

While her heart beat madly, Morgan walked around the other side of the desk to stand in front of her. He held his own belt in his hands. Had Bryce signaled him? She tried to glance behind her to see Bryce’s face, but couldn’t quite reach.

“Morgan’s my partner, Miss Wood,” he continued in his uninflected voice. “Some matters require joint disciplinary action. Do you have a problem with that?”

She swallowed hard. This was happening faster than she could have hoped, but she really didn’t want the pace to slow. While she’d been teasing Bryce, she’d worked up her own arousal to a fever pitch. “No sir,” she whispered, “you know best what punishment I deserve.”

Morgan threaded the leather tongue of his belt through the buckle, forming a circle that he looped around her wrists. He drew the loop tight and pulled her arms toward him. Then he threaded the end through the handle of Bryce’s center drawer.

Standing on her toes, with her body stretched across the surface of Bryce’s desk, she was completely, deliciously helpless.

Morgan’s fingers dug into her hair, and he lifted her head. “Had a feeling ’bout you for a while, Raelie Wood.”

“Oh?” She didn’t complete the thought. Her scalp stung, which only heightened her awareness of the cool wood beneath her and the heat radiating off the man standing behind her.

Bryce nudged apart her feet, widening her stance. When she was spread so wide she felt her inner lips gape open, she couldn’t help the little shivering sob that escaped.

“Was that fear, baby girl?” Morgan asked, easing his grip on her hair and kneeling so his face was aligned with hers. “Or do you want this?”

She searched his face, looking for a clue of what he thought about the way she’d behaved or a hint of where this was going. But his expression remained bland. “Want,” she groaned, hoping she’d given the right answer. Want trumped the trepidation that quivered through her body.

One brown eyebrow arched. The wicked twinkle was back in his eyes. “You’ve been teasing Bryce here until he’s just about lost his mind.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, but allowed a little one-sided smirk, sharing a glimpse of the joke.

He tapped her nose then rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “You should be. We have a business to run. What are you going to do to make this right?”

She licked her lips. “Whatever Mr. Caldwell feels is appropriate.”

Morgan’s eyelids dipped, but the laugh lines on either side of his mouth deepened. “So if he wants to spank your ass until it’s pink…?”

“I want him to be pleased with my dedication. I’ll trust that I deserved it.”

His thumb slid along her lip again. “If I want to fuck your mouth…?”

Her mouth went instantly dry unlike her pussy which gave its moist approval. “With Mr. Caldwell’s permission…” she said huskily.

“Does your cooperation depend on his being here?”

She nodded. “I’m his secretary.”

Morgan grinned then shot a glance up at Bruce and nodded. “That’s all right with me. How about you, Bryce?”

“She’ll do what I tell her,” Bryce growled. “If I want her to open her mouth for you to fuck, she’ll do it. Won’t you, Miss Wood?”

Raelie’s excitement was so intense she didn’t know how she managed to suppress a squeal. However she suspected that Bryce wouldn’t be pleased at her loss of control. “Yes sir,” she managed to mumble through tight lips.

“Morgan, she can’t open your pants for you,” Bryce drawled.

“Oh, right.” Morgan straightened and unbuttoned his slacks then slid down the zipper. He carefully untucked his cock from the flap of his boxers and pumped his fist once down his stiffened shaft.

Raelie sucked in a deep breath and couldn’t help but stare. The man was huge. No wonder all the women in the building held no grudges once he’d moved on. They’d feel it was an once-in-a-lifetime privilege to take that cock deep inside their bodies.

Morgan gripped himself beneath the head and pointed the tip at her lips. He pushed against her closed mouth.

Remembering to breathe, she opened wide and wrapped her lips around her teeth, letting him slide inside while struggling to ignore the palm smoothing in circles on her ass. When Bryce’s hand left her bottom, she groaned, her attention arrested. A sharp slap landed on one cheek, and she gasped around Morgan’s dick.

Morgan hissed. “Bite me and I swear I’ll be beating that pretty ass too. Got that?”

She nodded, bracing herself for the next blow. When it came, she was prepared. Bryce’s broad hand left behind stinging heat with every slap that had her pussy drenched in seconds. Raelie breathed noisily through her nostrils.

Morgan let go of himself and gripped the sides of her head, supporting her as he stroked into her, using shallow thrusts at first, quick little flutters that forced her to suction hard to hold him inside her mouth. “That’s it, baby,” he ground out. “Suck it hard. Fuck, your mouth feels good.”

She moaned with pleasure at his praise, using her tongue to tell him how much she appreciated it, adding a swirl over his broad cap, pointing the tip to slide it into the vertical slit, then curling it to flutter beneath the ridge defining the head.

Morgan’s scent was musky and earthy. Male sweat, concrete dust, and just plain dirt clung to his skin, but she didn’t care because he loved her mouth. He’d told her so.

“Damn, you’re hot,” he said, pulling her hair. “Fucking that sweet mouth is like fucking a pussy. Baby, let me come deeper.”

He shoved past her tongue, tapping the back of her throat, and she thought that was as far as he intended to go, but a slap against her rump by Bryce and hard tug at her hair from Morgan, disabused her of that idea.

“Loosen your jaws,” Morgan said, his voice sounding rough as gravel. “Breathe through your nose and let me into your throat. You can do it. And don’t you dare choke on me.”

At the gravelly texture of his voice, her pussy clenched. Behind her, fingers slowly rimmed her opening, and she took a deep fortifying breath.

“Open wide and let Morgan sink deeper,” Bryce said, his voice taut and stern.

Raelie gave a whimper but widened her jaw, allowing Morgan to tunnel deeper. Her lips were stretched around him, her jaws aching, but the emotions scrolling over his face—deep arousal, approval, a hint of his usual swagger—made her stay the course.

Morgan’s face reddened, sweat sprouted on his forehead, and his thrusts quickened. “Swallow it, swallow it all.”

Scalding spurts filled her mouth—viscous, salty, tangy. Her jaws burned but she remained obedient, her lips sucking hard, her throat working as he stroked toward her throat, and she swallowed down his cum.

When he pulled free from her mouth, he knelt and kissed her, his tongue penetrating and sliding deep. He had to have tasted himself there. When he leaned back, he winked. “You did good, office girl. Now, think you can behave from now on?”

Raelie whimpered because Bryce was pinching her clit.

Morgan chuckled and rose, pushing his cock back into his pants and zipping up. “You got it handled from here?” he asked, his gaze rising behind her.

“I’ll finish the punishment.”

Morgan walked away, his steps muffled on the thick carpet. The door shut with a quiet click behind him.

Raelie tensed, wondering what Bryce would do next and whether a punishment fitting her naughty crime was his only intention.


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Copyright © 2010 Delilah Devlin

Delilah Devlin
Ravished by a Viking — "Perfect Read." Fresh Fiction
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All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.