The Billionaire's Touch(3)

This time, Courtney knew it wasn't in her head. Vance circled behind her and she nearly jumped out of her skin when his finger ghosted over the back of her neck.

“Mr. Forster,” she squeaked, then blushed. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Mr. Forster, I...”



“Stand up,” he cut her off. The words weren't harsh or loud, but full of that same quiet authority.

“Why?” The word popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. And suddenly, he was there, body just centimeters away. She looked up and the expression in those arctic eyes made her mouth go dry and her stomach clench.

“Why?” He repeated. “Because you need someone to keep you in line, to provide discipline.” His voice caressed the word. “Don't you?”



Courtney didn't know what to say. How was she supposed to respond to this? He wasn't asking for a blow job or a f*ck in exchange for a promotion. This was something completely different.

“Now, stand up,” he repeated the order, a dangerous set to his full lips.

She thought about arguing. Thought about not doing it. But she couldn't deny the thrill that went through her, straight to her groin, at the thought of this man telling her what to do. So, as much to see what would happen next as anything else, she stood. Vance's eyes ran over her body and she fought to not shiver. Something flickered across his face but was gone before she could put a name to it.

“Very nice,” he murmured. “Take off your jacket.” Responding to her startled look, he added, voice slightly softened, “Just the jacket.”



She did as she was told and let the garment drop into her chair. He moved out of her eyeline and she could feel him standing behind her.

“Hands on the desk,” his voice had taken on something low and husky, something that made her uncomfortably aware that her panties were damp. The polished wood was smooth under her palms. Every muscle in her body was tense, waiting for what would happen next. How far was she going to let this go? For some reason, this man had chosen her for this and she had no doubt if she refused, he'd have no problem finding another woman to take her place. She couldn't deny that there was something about the way he spoke that called to her, touched a place deep inside that she'd never known before. It wasn't about the job, of that much she was sure. Vance Forster didn't strike her as the type to do annual reviews for someone just a few steps above an intern. So how had he chosen her? Why?

Then his hands were on her waist, burning through the thin cotton of her blouse. He leaned over her, his hard length pressing against her ass. As his hands slid up, over her ribs, to cup her breasts, his breath was hot against her ear.

“You need someone to take a firmer hand with you, Ms. Bell. Punish you when you're out of line. Make sure you're living up to your potential.”



She closed her eyes, letting his words flow over her, the images dancing behind her eyelids making her * throb. She shifted, desperate for more friction, and he chuckled. He took a step back and Courtney made a sound of pure frustration.

“I think you need to learn the value of patience, Ms. Bell,” Vance circled around so the desk was between them. “I'm recommending you be required to give weekly reports of your progress.” He sat in his chair, ignoring her incredulous stare. “And I believe I'll have you report directly to me. Your first assignment is to write me an outline of your plan of action, what you intend to do to please me in the future. Have it in my inbox before the end of business tomorrow.” He opened his laptop and waved a hand dismissively. “You may go now.”



Courtney blinked, shocked at the sudden change the conversation had taken. When he didn't look up after a few minutes, she straightened. Vance made no indication that he'd seen her move. Keeping one eye on him, she grabbed her jacket and left, mind racing, one incoherent thought chasing the next, the only underlying theme being: 'what just happened?'

***

“You need someone to discipline you.”



His words had echoed in her mind throughout the day, sometimes accompanied by various images.

She was bent over his desk again, and his hand was coming down on her bare ass.

She stood in front of him, wanting to say something that would make him use the ruler he had in his hands.

She knelt in front of him, behind that big desk, hands bound behind her, shirt open, breasts exposed. He had a hand tangled in her hair, pushing her head towards his massive erection. She licked her lips, wanting to taste it, to feel its weight on her tongue.

By the time she got home, her panties were soaked, and she felt like she was going to explode. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this horny. She'd had half a dozen or so partners, but the kinkiest she'd ever gotten was letting one boyfriend handcuff her to the bed. She had a feeling that fuzzy pink ones weren't exactly her boss's style. She heard it in his voice, saw it in those eyes. He promised pleasure in a manner she'd never before realistically considered. She wasn't na?ve; she knew what type of lifestyle this was. She'd even had her curious moments leading to several interesting hours on the internet. But even then, she'd never experienced the level of desire she'd felt in that office.

She picked at her dinner, a reheated chicken breast leftover from yesterday's meal, unable to think of anything other than the ache between her legs. It seemed like ages since she'd last had a decent orgasm. About six months ago, she'd dumped the cheating bastard she'd been dating. During their three month relationship, he'd made her come once. She hadn't dated since, having no time or patience for the inane ways people met. She could've looked for a one-night stand. She was pretty enough for that, she supposed. But it seemed she had just as many orgasms on her own as she did with her partner. Not that either number was impressive. She tried masturbating at least twice a week since then, if only to relieve stress. Fingers and toys both. She'd watched videos, read books, fantasized about men from her past, about celebrities she'd never have a chance with. Even the few orgasms she'd managed were weak and unsatisfying.