Praise (Salacious Players Club #1)(37)
My lips part and my body is flooded with heat. “Yes, Sir,” I reply. He moves out of the way, so I can crawl to my desk, where the printed paper sits next to my laptop. Grabbing it off the desk, I hesitate for a moment, not sure how to crawl and carry it at the same time.
“In your teeth,” he replies, noticing my uncertainty. And I do as he says, biting down on the paper as I move back onto all fours, carrying it toward him. He’s leaning on his desk now, arms crossed and watching me. Once I reach him, I sit back in a kneeling position.
He strokes my head gently and takes the paper from my teeth. Then I wait as he browses through what I wrote. This is the nerve-racking part because there were a lot of things on that list that made me a little nervous to admit.
“Where did you get this?” he asks.
“It was a printable list I got online. Is it okay?”
He waits a moment before responding. “It’s excellent, Charlotte. I’m proud of you.”
I smile to myself. The list has over two hundred items and I had to rank each one from zero, being an absolutely hard limit, to five, being very interested, please do. Most of the list landed at three, which means curious. Naturally.
I know I’m supposed to keep my head down, but I can’t resist the urge to watch his face as he reads the list. To be honest, most of the items were hard to rank because they involved sex, and Emerson and I don’t have that kind of relationship, yet. All I know is that the more I’m with him and the more he pushes me past my limits, the more I want.
He doesn’t say a word as he browses, and his poker face doesn’t give much away. All I know is he’s reading things like…
Paddling, three.
Caning…two.
Serving, five.
Bondage…three.
Boot licking, zero.
Sex. No answer.
In fact, everything in the sex category is blank, from hand jobs to fisting—zero on the last one if I had to rank it.
It feels like forever that he reads the papers, and I’m sick with anticipation. I keep waiting to be scolded like a child. And I regret not at least putting a three or four under the sex categories, but how could I?
If I’ve learned anything this past month and a half, it’s that I should ask for what I want, and that sex doesn’t need to be so serious. It’s supposed to be fun and feel good, and that’s what I want…so why didn’t I ask for it?
From my boss.
Beau’s dad.
God, what am I thinking?
“Interesting,” he says without looking at me. Then he just sets the paper down on the desk and turns his gaze to me. “I’m not interested in physical punishment, so you don’t have to worry about the caning or the paddling. But you left a few of them blank, Charlotte.”
I clear my throat. “I didn’t know…”
“Sex isn’t necessary, you understand that, right?”
“Yes.”
“In fact,” he adds. “I’m willing to teach you what you need to know to be a proper submissive, but we have to maintain an appropriate relationship. You’re still my employee, and Beau’s…friend.”
Disappointment washes over me. “Okay.”
“For now, I want you to go back to your desk and do your tasks for the day. You’ll be silent and only address me as Sir if you have a question. Otherwise, you’ll stay at your desk, and when I need you, I’ll call you over and you’ll do what I say. Is that clear?”
I’m hit with another wave of disappointment. Just be silent at my desk? That’s it? “Yes, Sir,” I reply obediently.
“Good girl. On your feet then.” He reaches a hand down, and I place my fingers in his as he lifts me to a standing position. Once I’m upright, his gaze drifts down from my face to my blouse, noticing my black bra again like he did on my first day.
“Go ahead, then. Get to work,” he says, and his voice sounds a touch strained as if that’s not quite what he wanted to say. As if he’s holding back.
I’m restless in my chair as I work for the next hour. He asks me to get him coffee and to put in a delivery order for lunch, but for the most part, it’s a regular work day. But unlike every other work day, I’m silent and I miss talking to him.
After lunch, he has a video conference meeting planned with Garrett, Hunter, and Maggie. Apparently, they have something to discuss with their lawyer, and I’m a little nervous about what he expects me to do while he’s on the call.
“Charlotte, come here.”
Getting up from my desk, I walk over to him, and he gestures for me to come to his side. Once I’m there, he takes my hand.
“I want you to kneel by my side while I’m on the call, okay? No one will see you.”
“Okay,” I mumble, and he gives me a curious glare. “I mean, yes…Sir.”
“Very good. Go get your pillow.”
When I return with the cushion for my knees, I drop onto the floor. I’m resting in the space just next to his chair, but hidden behind his desk…and I hate it. He does a little on his computer while I wait, and I honestly start questioning everything I have chosen to do up to this point. This isn’t what I expected at all. I expected him to pay attention to me. I expected for it to be sexy, and at some point, I expected something, anything, to feel good. Where is this beloved subspace everyone online raves about?