Page 5 of Submit
The meeting was a valiant success with Daniel showing all the numbers he ran, and as I leave the meeting room with a new billionaire pep in my step, I wonder why I was worried at all. I have an amazing team behind me, hand selected for their skills, and today we showed the world how much of a force we are to be reckoned with.
“Wanna celebrate later? Say your place, nine o’clock?” Ashley purrs in my ear as she struts next to me down the hall towards the stairwell. “I can congratulate you properly then.”
“Such a tempting offer.” I reply, grabbing her by the hips and slamming her back against the wall around the corner out of prying eyes.
She lets out a little huff of air but instantly melts between my body and the hard wall, her thighs dropping open on instinct, allowing me to put my knee between those slender legs and lift her up so her face is level with mine. Her eyes scan my face, the bright irises shimmering with the excitement of my touch.
“Do it, Sir.” She whispers, her lips grazing mine, her hand coming to the back of my head, her nails scratching my scalp just how she knows I like.
It’s like a homecoming when my lips press against hers, and my tongue slides against their seam. She opens up for me, inviting me inside to taste her and the coffee she’s been guzzling all morning. Her mouth is hot and needy as I trace her tongue and teeth, devouring her, stealing her breath from her in a hard, wanting kiss.
She moans into my mouth, her fingers grabbing my hair, tugging gently at first, then harder as I suck out her soul. It’s hot and encompassing as I drag my hands down her front, grabbing her tits, lifting her a little higher with my knee, feeling her wetness through her clothes and my pants leg.
“You’re going to cum, right here, right now.” I command her between plunges of my tongue. “Be a good girl and keep quiet for me, and cum on Daddy’s knee.”
“Yes Daddy, Sir.” She purrs in my mouth, her body undulating against the wall, her legs shaking.
It doesn’t take long for her to abide by my order. A little rubbing of my knee, and a squeeze of her perfect tits has her falling apart, quietly vocalizing out her pleasure into my hard kisses.
Dropping her back down onto her feet, I brush at the damp spot on my leg and give her a little devious smile, brushing a tendril of her chocolate hair from her flushed face.
“Nine sharp.”
She’s a panting mess, her chest heaving, her body trembling as I leave her to put herself back together, and jog down the stairs by myself, to my office, where I know the rest fo the day will go by at a snail’s pace while I wait for the pleasure of her company at my residence tonight.
A snail’s pace is putting it lightly as I stare at the little clock in the corner of the laptop screen as I work on spreadsheets, crunching numbers on a few accounts that I’ve had my eye on for a while. Now that I have the backing of the Japanese, I can make a sweep across the board for them all and acquire them easily.
I’m lost in columns of digits that all start to blend together and barely notice the sky darkening through the windows at my back, the sun setting as I work. Shadows elongate on the walls, and the room goes from bright and warm to more cold and almost ominous.
The sound of my office door opening snaps me out of my concentration, and I look up to see one of the cleaning ladies I pay very well to keep these three floors in pristine condition. She’s quiet as she can be, trying not to disturb me, but her mere presence is enough to keep me from continuing.
“So sorry Mr. Lambert.” She apologizes in a thick Eastern European accent as she walks around my desk to grab the waste paper basket. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.”
“It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect to stay so long.” I answer her, snapping the laptop closed and looking at my Rolex. “It’s only six thirty. Hmmm, seems later.”
“The winter sun, Sir.” She says, emptying the basket and sliding it back in place, being extra careful not to let it touch my leg or the briefcase sitting next to me.
“Yes, must be. The days are very short now.”
“And cold, like home in Russia.”
“Russia huh? I was thinking more Ukraine from the sound of your voice.” I say, watching her wipe down the furniture with a soft rag and spray can of polish that smells like forest trees.
“Easy to mistake...S…” She pauses and looks down at her feet. “I don’t mean you made a mistake. My apologies.”
Almost jumping out of her skin, she backs up, bumping her knee on the coffee table between the couches as I rise from my desk chair. The panic in her eyes is a tell-tale sign of what she must have gone through before coming to America. I’ve seen it way too many times.
Young, beautiful women in other countries that suffer unimaginable things flee here for asylum. That is how I found her and the other ladies I employ. I may be a cold-hearted bastard when it comes to business, but women, even ones I beat senseless in the playroom, will always have my utmost respect and care.
“Hey, it’s all good. No worries.” I say, gathering my things and grabbing my suit jacket from the coat rack. “You have a good night, and don’t work too hard.” I add, tipping my head towards her with a small smile.
“Goodnight Mr. Lambert.”
“Adrian.” I tell her, slipping on the jacket and stopping at the door. “Call me Adrian.”
“Yes, Sir.”
My steps are much lighter on my way out of the building then they were when I came in this morning, and as I wait for the valet to bring around the Porsche, I whistle a happy little tune, watching the city speed by.
