Page 17 of Daddy's Princess

He furrows his brow like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle but can’t quite make the pieces fit. “I own Titan-Rose.”

Oliver strides the rest of the way into the room like he owns the place. Well, I guess he does, so it’s fitting. He looks like a lion stalking his prey as he crosses the room toward me. The man radiates power. Even just the way he walks into the room is commanding. It’s like he’s daring whoever is in the room to challenge him if they dare. No one would dare.

I have a total head-slapping moment. Never in a million years would I have thought that Oliver Titan was my Oliver. I’m kicking myself for not keeping up with the gossip magazines now. If I were more like Britney—as terrifying of a thought that is—I would’ve known last night exactly who he is. How is it that a job as an illustrator at Titan-Rose Publishing has been my dream for years, and I’ve never once researched the newest CEO?Idiot!

I let my bosses’ bosses’ boss strip me naked and spank me. A deep pit of shame opens up inside me. The same shame I banished once I accepted the fact that I’m a submissive, not just a submissive, but a little. It took me a long time to understand my needs and desires and even longer to accept that it was okay to feel that way. I hate that my instinct is to automatically turn back to those negative emotions.

I have nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, this isn’t my fault at all. This is all on Oliver. In the month I’ve worked at Titan-Rose, I’ve never once met its commander and chief. I haven’t even caught a brief glance from across the room at him. If he were the kind of boss that took the time to meet his employees, this wouldn’t have happened.

I’m just about to work myself into a good bit of anger over the situation when I find myself swept up into his arms. It’s so unexpected that I don’t even protest when his lips crash down on mine. In fact, I do the opposite of protesting, I kiss him back like he’s my only source of oxygen. I have no idea how long we kiss. Only that when he finally pulls away, I’m weak-kneed and greedily sucking actual oxygen into my burning lungs.

“You’re in so much trouble, babygirl,” Oliver growls lowly, his eyes eating me up like a starving man seeing his first meal in days.

“I—what—that’s—” My brain stutters through so many thoughts at once that I can’t make a coherent sentence. What I should be saying is that I’m not his babygirl. I should be slapping him for kissing me without my permission. I should put him smack dab in his place. Except, my brain skips all of the rational thoughts and starts playing last night’s spanking on a loop in my head, screaming,‘yes, please.’

I’m daydreaming about naughty things regarding my bosses’ bosses’ boss. Very specific daydreams. I imagine him pushing up my pencil skirt and bending me over the conference table and spanking me until I’m begging him to stop, but he doesn’t stop. Once I’ve been thoroughly punished, he’ll pin me to the table and fuck me. Of course, I’ll be so lost in ecstasy he’ll have to put his hand over my mouth to muffle my screams. The fantasies keep coming.

“Why did you leave last night?”

Just like that, all my fantasizing stops. I left last night because I was scared of the connection I felt with Oliver. I left because I don’t want to be vulnerable ever again. I left for self-preservation. I don’t tell him any of that, though.

“Because our scene was done.” My words come out cold and harsh, the exact opposite of what would be considered respectful. My submissive self is cringing, and I have to bite back my instinct to apologize. I have nothing to apologize for, I don’t owe Oliver anything.

“You shouldn’t have left without talking to me.” His words are no longer scolding. Instead, his tone is gentle. He reaches up and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips set my body alive with just that barest of touch to the outside of my ear.

I’m in so much trouble. How will I ever keep my distance when every little touch—hell, every little look—sets me on fire with need? I need to keep myself aloof. Besides, in the month that I’ve been at Titan-Rose, this is the first time we’ve ever seen each other. Avoiding him shouldn’t be that difficult.

“There wasn’t anything to talk about.”

“I’m not sure what kind of dominant you’ve scened with in the past, but I prefer to check in with my submissives after a scene. In the future, you’re not to leave until we’ve talked.”

My heart skips a beat from excitement. Oliver is thinking about the future. My inner submissive is building white picket fences. She’d gladly jump into the future blindly for the chance to have more of what Oliver gave me last night. I can’t say as I blame her. It’s a tempting thought. Cody was tempting too. “There is no future. No next time. Last night was a one-time thing.”

I turn away from him and start fiddling with the already perfectly arranged pastries. Silence falls in the conference room, and the electrical charge that was crackling between Oliver and me dissipates like it never was.

“Where’s Antonio?” Oliver’s voice breaks the silence, he’s apparently dropped the subject. I shouldn’t be disappointed. I don’t want him pursuing me.

Right?

“Who’s Antonio?” I look over my shoulder at Oliver in confusion.

“The owner of Ante Up. He typically makes the deliveries himself for these things.”

“Oh,” I shrug. “Nadine told me to arrange breakfast and coffee for the meeting.”

“Nadine from office management?”

I nod.

“And she specifically toldyouto set up breakfast and coffee?”

I narrow my eyes at the way he worded the question. I’m starting to suspect my good pal Britney didn’t give me all the details to Nadine’s task. “Actually, it was Britney who told me what Nadine wanted me to do because she had to go and talk to Kevin.”

“And Britney is…”

“Another intern.”

“I see. Well, for future reference, if you call and speak with Antonio, he knows our usual order and will take care of everything.”

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