Beg for It(39)

“I went for a run,” he said unnecessarily, because the way she looked him over made it clear she could see exactly what he’d been doing.

“Would you like to take a shower or something? You’ve already kept me waiting. I can handle another twenty minutes.”

Reese took a long, slow pull from the bottle of water he’d stopped to grab from the break room fridge. He watched her eye his throat as he swallowed. Then his mouth when he licked his lips.

“Used to be that you liked me sweaty.”

“You will want to stop pushing my buttons, Reese,” Corinne said in a soft, dangerous voice. She took a step or two closer. “You called this meeting with a demand for me to bring you ‘correct’ reports like I’ve never provided you anything you needed before, which is not true and extremely insulting. You showed up late, which was also disrespectful. And if you want to talk about being unprofessional, that last comment borders on sexual harassment.”

He blinked.

“You’ve made it very clear that our past relationship is of no consequence to our business dealings,” she continued in that same low, stern voice that had once been enough to get him to his knees in front of her.

It was making his cock twitch, no way to hide an erection in his thin running shorts. God help him, he’d brought this on himself. He didn’t move when she took another step toward him, which put him within grabbing distance…if she chose to touch him.

“Therefore, Reese, I expect that you will treat me with the respect I am due. Is that understood?”

Fuck, that look. That voice. He’d been playing with matches and had started a fire.

“Yes,” he answered.

Corinne’s gaze flashed. Her lips parted. He could see the flash of her tongue as she slid it along her teeth.

“Yes, what?”

Ma’am. Yes Ma’am. Please, Ma’am.

“Yes, I understand,” Reese replied, knowing what she wanted but refusing to give it to her.

Her gaze fell to the bulge in the front of his shorts, then met his eyes. “I’ve already told you once not to push my buttons, Reese.”

He laughed. “Or what? You’ll spank me? You really think that’s going to work on me, anymore?”

Without blinking or turning away from him, Corinne reached to the cup on his desk. With unerring precision she slid the wooden ruler from amongst the pens and pencils. She drew it between her hands, gripping it lightly in front of her. Reese was so immediately and inexorably aroused that he actually thought he might need to sit down. Sit, or fall from knees gone weak.

Corinne tapped the ruler lightly on the underside of her palm. “Since you acquired Stein and Sons, do you feel your behavior toward me has been respectful and professional?”

He didn’t answer her.

The ruler tap, tap, tapped on the underside of her palm. If his cock had ever been this hard, Reese couldn’t remember it. The look she gave the front of his shorts only made it worse, because he could square his shoulders and lift his chin and refuse to give her what she wanted, but there was no way he could hide how much she affected him.

“Do you think it was appropriate of you to come to my house?”

Silence.

The ruler tapped.

“Do you think it was appropriate for you to request that I come to your house, for you to be drunk—”

“I wasn’t,” he gritted out. “I’d been drinking, but I wasn’t drunk.”

Corinne let a small slow hiss slip between her teeth. “That’s one.”


“My list is getting longer,” Corinne says. “Keep testing me, Reese. See what happens.”

He knows what is going to happen. She will refuse him the sweetness of her * on his tongue, or she will tease his cock for an hour before she’ll let him enter her. She will have him kneel, naked, hands behind his back and forbidden to touch her or himself while she makes herself come and all he can do is watch. Corinne has dozens of ways to discipline him. Hundreds.

“Keep testing me,” she says again, the words an offer, a command, a promise, and a threat all wrapped up in a wicked smile. “See what happens.”


“I had two and a half glasses of wine. It wasn’t enough to impair me.”

“So you ordered me to come to your house after work and you put your hands and mouth on me, all without the influence of alcohol?” This time, she smacked the ruler hard enough beneath her hand to make a cracking sound.

“I don’t need to be drunk to want to f*ck you.”

Her eyes narrowed; he hated himself for the way the words had come out, but something inside him pushed him to it. Years had passed in which he’d dreamed of saying all the things he’d wanted to tell her. Of closing the door that had stayed open through every other broken relationship.

“Oh, yes. I know.” Another crack of the ruler on her skin had him swallowing hard. Her gaze never left his. “That was not my question, Reese. I asked you if you thought it was appropriate. Considering that you are technically my boss. Do you think it was professional of you to invite me to your house after you’d been drinking?”

“No.”

“To touch me?” This time, she slid the wooden ruler through the half circle of her fingers; it made a whispering sound.

His fists clenched at his sides. “No.”