He leans down and presses his lips softly against mine. It’s a soft, quick kiss and I already want more. After he straightens up, he walks to his desk.
“From now on, you need more sleep, Charlotte. If you’re going to be out until one in the morning, you need to stay home until ten the next day, understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” I purr.
“Although I’d prefer you aren’t on the streets at all so late at night. Perhaps you should consider staying until morning.”
I smile to myself, my eyes still fixated on the floor. “Yes, Sir.”
When I am on my knees and he is Sir, not Emerson, he plays the part so well. Only slightly different from who he is on a daily basis, I love this power he manifests. It makes me feel so…something. I don’t know how to put a word to this feeling. Like he is everything and nothing exists outside this room. I have no other purpose, which really makes me feel at peace. No other purpose means no other worry. Not a house payment or a struggling little sister. No estranged dad or broken family. And no ex-boyfriend. In this space, it’s just him and me. My tasks are simple and fulfilling—please my Sir. I don’t even care anymore about what anyone would say or think about this arrangement. It makes me happy.
“Come here, Charlotte,” he commands, and I crawl obediently toward him. “Stand up.”
I climb to my feet, keeping my eyes down. His fingers drift down my blouse, sending a rush of excitement through me in its wake.
He touches one of the buttons, and I seriously hope he doesn’t plan to rip this one open like he did yesterday. I’m going to run out of shirts. He slips the first button through the hole.
“I’m going to take this off for the day. Is that all right?”
Eagerly I nod.
“Use your words, Charlotte.”
I swallow. “Yes, Sir.” And my mouth goes dry as he slips open my blouse one button at a time and slides it off my body until I’m standing before him in just my bra and skirt.
“This too?” he asks as his fingers glide along the skin just above my skirt. I have to force myself to swallow again.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply, this time in more of a whisper.
He gestures for me to turn around and slides the zipper along the back down, letting the skirt fall to the floor. The cool air of his office hits the skin of my ass and goosebumps erupt over my skin.
He’s silent for a moment, my back to him as his fingers delicately graze my arm, and I wait for him to give me my orders. I’m pretty much ready for him to bend me over his desk or force me to my knees.
His lips press softly against my left shoulder, sending warmth to my core. “Get to work,” he says with a gentle smack on my ass.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply, biting my lip to keep from grinning too hard.
Focusing on my work proves to be difficult, but I manage to get through a handful of emails and send off the tax documents the accountant needed all within the first couple hours of the work day. I feel Emerson’s eyes on me from time to time. He watches me with a hungry gaze, but I never look back, relishing in his attention while I work.
When I bring him his coffee, he touches my bare legs, running his fingers up the inside of my thigh and making me want to explode, but I stay in character.
“Is there anything else you need, Sir?” I ask with a slight tremble in my voice. He’s driving me crazy on purpose. I don’t know if he’s not currently screwing my brains out because it’s not part of the secretary fantasy for him or if he’s just drawing out the tension. Maybe when the work day is done and we’re out of character, we can go up to his room and do ungodly things to each other. Although if I’m honest, I sort of hope he’ll do it the secretary way. I guess that’s a fantasy I never knew I had.
“That’s all for now, Charlotte.” My name rolls off his tongue like silk gliding through his fingers. I no longer care that he doesn’t call me Charlie. It makes me feel like I am his and only his, and I like that.
Before lunch, he drops his pen onto his desk. I glance over at him to see what’s wrong. “I’m having trouble getting anything done today, Charlotte. You’re distracting me and all I can think about is how beautiful that pussy between your legs is.” He leans forward and levels a devious glare in my direction.
A subtle smile lifts the corners of my lips.
“I’m sorry, Sir. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes. Why don’t you come over here and read this email for me?” he says in a way that tells me I’ll be doing a little more than reading an email.