Page 49 of Dominant

Chapter 12

Office Appropriate

Alexander

Jordan’s return to the office went better than expected, even though I had the urge to pull her hair or rip her dress off every time I saw her. Without explicitly discussing it, we had tacitly agreed to keep our relationship a secret, and I’d started out the week unsure about how it was going to play out. I’d never had an initiate make the transition from submissive slave to employee before, but as it turned out they weren’t such different roles after all.

She’d left my place on Sunday, after our night together, to see her roommate and get a change of clothes, and I was surprised by how much I missed her by nightfall. I’d gotten used to seeing her every day.

On Monday, I’d greeted her as usual - maybe a tad more warmly than usual - and then we’d simply gone about our days, perfectly professional until five o’clock, when I’d taken her home and fucked her brains out.

On Tuesday, when we’d happened to be alone together in the kitchen, I couldn’t resist telling her, sotto voce, that she looked extremely fuckable. Ten minutes later, we met in the bathroom where I’d fucked her quietly in one of the stalls.

On Wednesday, when she’d dropped some tax forms on my desk, she murmured, “I hope these please you, Master,” and returned to her desk leaving me hard just thinking about her. I’d called her extension and made her listen to me while I jerked off in my office, telling her what I wanted to do to her. “Mm hm,” she’d said politely, the picture of discretion, and then a cheerful, “Sounds good!” when I came, trying to come silently so that no one would hear me outside my office.

I’d started to think I’d been too conservative in refusing to have an office romance all this time. Marianne commented that she’d never seen me in the office so many days in a row.

“Busy time,” I’d told her nonchalantly. “Got a corporate takeover in the works.”

I had a particular fantasy, a scene I wanted to play out in the office. Walking into the office kitchen one morning to get a coffee, I found Jordan chatting to a small group of people. I said hello and poured my coffee, speaking to Jordan as I made my exit.

“Can I see you in my office this morning?” I said in my most serious boss voice.

“Uh-oh,” joked Kenneth from Finance.

“Of course,” said Jordan, with a convincing note of anxiety in her voice.

When she came into my office shortly afterwards, she had a secret, playful smile, and I realized I missed the days when she was more afraid of me.

“Hi,” she said warmly.

I didn’t smile back. “When we’re in the office, our relationship is boss/employee.”

She instantly grew serious. “Yes, of course. Sorry.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… Mr. Abbott?” Awareness sparked in her eyes. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

I couldn’t help but give her a small, heated look. “Come over here and stand in front of me.”

Since her release from the House of Initiates, it seemed that Jordan had finally purchased some better-fitting clothing. She was wearing a slightly flared, slightly too-short skirt that day, and I desperately wished it was summer so that she wasn’t wearing tights under it. Nevertheless, she had so much leg showing that I’d still practically gotten hard pouring my coffee.

“This skirt,” I said, frowning in disapproval. “Don’t you think it’s a little short for the office? I saw Kenneth checking out your legs and I’m not happy about it.”

She looked at me innocently. “I thought you liked when other guys wanted to fuck me?”

“No. What I like is letting other guys fuck you, at my discretion. There’s a difference.” I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward me. Her wrists had been bruise-free since she’d learned that I could do the bruising for her. “The office isn’t the place to be a slut, Jordan. I’ll have to punish you.”

“Yes, Mr. Abbott,” she said breathily.

“Bend over the desk.”

“Yes, Mr. Abbott.”

She put her hands on the desk, lifting her ass in the air and damn, I wanted to take her right there. But I had a special plan for the day, and it would take some patience on my part.

I flipped her skirt up over her back and pulled her tights and her panties down to her ankles, taking a minute to admire the view. “Fuck, you’ve got a perfect pussy,” I told her.

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