Page 17 of The Unplanned Wedding

“How dare you undermine my assistant’s dignity?” My boss’ voice drops even lower in pitch. ”Get out of here before I throw you out myself.”

“You’re firing me over her?” The other guy sneers, “She’s not worth it, you know.”

My boss’s shoulders seem to swell. The buttons on his jacket strain, and I’m sure they're going to pop any moment. In fact, I’m positive the seams of his sleeves are going to tear, thanks to how his biceps bulge. His gaze narrows on the Finance Director, who pales.

His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m going to sue the shit out of you Davenport,” he cries. Then he’s out of the room. The door closes behind him.

My boss straightens his tie, then glances around. “Dismissed.”

I watch as the men and women who watched the proceedings with open-mouthed surprise scramble to their feet.

Thanks to me, his meeting went to pieces. I failed him.I swallow down my disappointment.

There’s a clatter of chairs, the clop-clop of ladies’ heels, then they’re gone.

I take a few steps toward the door when, “Not you, Ms. Donnelly.”

Oh.I freeze, but don’t turn to face him.

“Come here,” he says softly.

I turn and, making sure to keep my chin lowered, shuffle toward him. When I come to a stop next to him, I swallow. “I... I didn’t do anything.” Except, I feel guilty for not pulling away when that wanker touched me. In my mind, I already belong to my boss.I belong to him?The realization crashes into my chest with the force of a storm which had been building all along.

“Is that right?” My boss’s cold, hard voice interrupts my thoughts.

I nod. Unable to meet his gaze for reasons I can’t comprehend, I murmur, “He's the one who?—”

“I’m aware.” The menace in his tone makes me shiver. He sounds so tough. So livid. When he stays silent for a few seconds, I risk a glance at his face, then wish I hadn’t, for he’s glaring at me. The tips of his ears are white, which is not a good sign, is it? His jaw has gone even harder, if that’s possible. And the way the muscles spasm at the tops of his cheekbones? I’m sure he’s going to crack a molar.

He reaches out and, before I can react, he slips off my spectacles, then folds them and slides them into his shirt pocket. To say I’m surprised is putting it mildly. I want to ask him what he’s doing but he snaps, “Bend over.”

“Excuse me?” I gape at him.

“Hands on the conference table, bend over at the waist, and put your cheek on the surface.”

I’m not sure why I comply. And I don’t know why this doesn’t feel like sexual harassment, but it doesn’t. In fact... It feels like whatever he’s going to do to me is atonement for letting some other man touch me. Whatever he has in mind is going to help me find redemption, and it feels right. Itfeels like I've waited all my life to have this man pin me with his fierce look and give me his complete attention. Everything inside of me wants me to obey him, so I do.

I turn to face the boardroom table. I flatten one hand on the surface, then the other. I lower myself forward slowly, until my cheek is pressed into the surface. For a few seconds, the only sound in the space is my breathing. The tension builds, pressing down on me. My stomach churns with anticipation. A heavy pulse kicks in at my wrists, at my temples. My nipples throb. Then he kicks my ankles apart, and I gasp.

“You deserve to be punished for not standing up for yourself when someone insulted your professional standing.”

He’s right.

“You deserve to be punished for letting another man touch you. Do you agree?”

I nod.

“Say it aloud, if you do,” he snaps.

“I... I agree.”

I cry out when his palm connects with my backside.One-two-three-four—I count as he spanks my alternate arse cheeks. Each time he connects with my backside, I rise up on my tiptoes. Each time he spanks me, the pulse between my legs blooms bigger. Thicker. More insistent. Until it spills over into my thighs, my lower belly, bounces down to my toes, and up, up, up to my pussy lips and my spine, and bursts into a fountain of light behind my eyes.Oh my god! Did I just climax?

I float down to earth and when I open my eyes, it’s to find he’s massaging my behind through my skirt, my panties, and my stockings.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and a whine leaves my lips.Ohmigod, what’s wrong with me? Why did that feel so good?

“You may straighten and put yourself to rights,” he says in a bored voice.

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