The elevator is crowded and so is my head. I can't stop wondering if I'm doing the right thing. I know I shouldn't be excited, but I am. All these people around me are bustling among themselves about lunch plans. They all stay half a step away and it's grating. For once, I'd like someone to act as if I'm not some fragile piece of china. I won't snap and fire someone if I'm accidentally bumped. Dad raised me better than that, and when I took over that job for him, I gained my own morals. Dad can be a strict guy, but I'm softer than him by enough to know better.

A loud DING scares me out of my thoughts and I push through to the 11th floor. A couple of people murmur quietly, probably wondering why I'm even down here.

I don't care what they say. What they think. I already have an excuse prepared if anyone asks. It's a lunch meeting with Steven, the head of advertising and packaging, but he doesn't know he's getting a promotion. Father is supposed to tell him after lunch at around 2. We're both so busy that our jam-packed schedules only allowed us to meet at noon. It's normal. I've had multiple business meetings over lunch. This is nothing new.

But it is new, what we're really doing. I've never had a lunch ... rendezvous. A nooner. An affair. Dalliance. Whatever you want to call it, I've never had one. I'm nervous, shaky, excited. I feel as if I could throw up and hyperventilate at the same time. As my thighs rub together, I notice an obvious dampness in my panties and feel a blush creeping from my ears to my cheeks.

I have to stop and lean against the receptionist desk- which is mercifully empty- and catch my breath. Kevin had stopped by my office with my favorite coffee trying to get me to talk to him. He refused to leave my office and had closed the door, his demeanor changing almost instantly. I told him we had broken up days ago, and that I wasn't interested in anything he said or did unless it was being silent and staying away from me. He turned red and slammed his fist into his thigh, demanding I stop being stubborn. He started begging me, really begging me to stay with him, to forgive him. I stood and opened the door, making sure I was loud enough to be heard by others when I told him,

"Thank you, Kevin. That will be all." He had glared at me for so long, I saw Stevonnie's head pop over the cubicle with a rolling pin. Kevin eventually stood, smoothing his blazer as he walked stiffly out the door.

"This isn't over, Connie." He growled under his breath.

"Have a nice day, Kevin." I returned pleasantly.

I'd been on such a high, I'd gone right into my office and started the online search for the perfect pink tie. Something gloriously sophisticated and expensive and sexy and elegant. I clicked on my favorite store sites until I finally found the one I knew he would love. And I loved it, too.

I saw that he had read my email, but by the time he did, it was almost noon.

My cell dings that I have a text message and I pull it out of my purse to find a number I don't recognize, along with a simple message.

I see you.

Glancing around, I see that no one else is nearby. The offices appear mostly empty. The entire floor has a hushed quality to it that I almost find unnerving.

Or maybe that's just me, completely unnerved and worried about what I'm about to do.

My phone beeps again.

You're late.

And then there's another message.

We only have fifty minutes to indulge in our appetizer lunch. I suggest you head over to my office now.

The pleasure that blooms across my chest at the texts from Steven makes me rush down the hall only to find him already standing there, leaning against the wall opposite his office, his arms folded across his chest, his biceps straining the fabric of his snowy white shirt. He must have taken off his jacket; he's clad in only the shirt, dark grey trousers, and no tie. His hair is in the usual tousle, his eyes glittering as I come closer.

"You made it," he says when I stop just in front of him.

"Sorry I'm late." I swallow away the nerves as best I can, hating how jittery I sound. "It's been crazy this morning."

"Same with me." He grabs hold of my elbow and leads me into his office, closing and locking the door behind us. The click is so loud that I internally flinch. I take a silent breath when I see the tie I bought him, laid out delicately on his desk as if he was studying it. "Do you really like it?" I ask when I turn to him, adding when I see his confused frown, "The tie?"

He releases a deep chuckle that has my insides pulsing with the pattern. "Oh yes, very much." He takes a step closer to me, reaching out to drift his fingers down the length of my arm. "Almost as much as this dress you're wearing."

I look down at my outfit and blush. I was going to wear something white today, but found this dress to be much more appealing. It's a black double button up, easy access if anyone was paying close enough attention. "Th-thank you," I shudder and stand in place anxiously. It's like my body wants to move but is paralyzed with fear. He smirks again and tugs me into him so our bodies are pressed against each other.

"Don't be nervous," he whispers just before he dips his head and presses his warm, damp lips to the side of my neck. I tilt my head back and close my eyes, resting my hands blindly on his chest. He's hot, physically. The heat that exudes from him is intoxicating and I sigh at the feeling. I want to let him touch me. I want to moan when his lips find an erogenous zone under my earlobe. My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as I anchor myself to him. He slips his hand down my back until he's gripping my butt and he hauls me into him before pressing me against the side wall. I can already feel him, big and thick. He's hard. Hard for me. My cheeks fill with needy heat and I feel my pussy do the same.

"What do you want, Connie?" he asks when he lifts his head, his hazy brown eyes meeting mine. I part my lips, ready to say I have no idea, but he takes advantage, kissing me before I can say a word.

The kiss knocks the wind out of me and I moan into it, wrapping my legs around him. It's rough and hot and I let him take control. I roam my hands over his chest with feather light touches, then grip his shirt as he grinds into me.

"Well?" he asks seconds, minutes later. His breathing is harsh, his shirt a wrinkled mess from my seeking hands. I keep this up and I'll ruin this shirt for good. "What do you want from me?"

I stare up at him, at a loss for words. How can I express to him exactly what I want when I hardly know myself? I'm scared to say it. Embarrassed, too. I've never spoken freely about sex. That's more Stevonnie's style. Which is silly because I'm a grown woman with needs and wants, just like everyone else. I've been with other men. I've had orgasms, plenty of them. Brought on by myself, by a vibrator, by a man. Mostly brought on by myself ...

"Do you want me to touch you?" He presses his lips to my forehead, his hand still gripping my backside. "Do you want me to make you come?" he whispers against my skin.

Oh God. Everything inside me goes warm and tight and I nod, keeping my eyes tightly closed. "Yes," I say shakily. He leans in and give my neck a longing kiss before setting me down and stepping a bit away.

"Strip," he commands, his tone firm.

My mouth parts with shock. "What?"

He smiles, his gaze roving over me, hungry and unfettered. "The dress. For now."

No man has ever demanded that I strip in front of him. Usually they undress me. Or it's a hurried frenzy of pulling off clothes in bed, in the dark, whatever, eager to get naked quick.

So this feels ... odd. As if I'm putting myself on display for him.

Which I am. And oddly, it turns me on.

I knew I should wear something easy access today so I'm thankful that half the buttons are faux. The top button is really the only one I need to manually undo, then I part the two pieces of fabric loosely held together with them and they one by one undo themselves.

Steven never takes his gaze away from me. He leans against the edge of his desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest again, his head bent to the side. His aura is regal and kingly, as if he's studying a subject closely, or a new toy.

I shrug the dress off my shoulders and it falls into a heap at my feet. I not only chose the dress for today, but also my lingerie. He'd asked for something sexy and I hope I delivered.

Pray that I delivered.

His gaze lights up as it skims over me and rests on my chest. "Incredible. It's a gorgeous set, I love the bra." His eyes are smoldering.

My breasts strain against the thin fabric, cream silk trimmed with black lace, my nipples hard and poking against the lace. The panties match, cut in a bikini style that covers more than reveals. I feel sexy every time I wear the set, which isn't often. I bought them on a whim while out shopping with my sisters. Stevonnie convinced Rose and me to buy something frilly and indulgent. Not for the men in our lives, Stevonnie had said, giving me a pointed look because I was the only one who had a serious boyfriend. But for us.

I wore the set a few times. Once when I had a particularly difficult meeting and I'd needed to feel confident in my femininity when facing a bunch of old, white men who didn't necessarily understand the cosmetics industry. Another time I wore it for a date with Kevin. He hadn't even noticed, hadn't even complimented my choice in lingerie. Did we even have sex that night?

I'm not sure. I don't remember. How sad is that?

So I shoved the bra-and-panty set into the back of my dresser drawer, forgotten. Until I had a minor panic attack last night over what I should wear for Steven. He wanted something sexy, something that would slay him ...

"Take it off."

I cough. "What?"

"Your bra." He waves a hand at me. "Take it off, Connie."

My fingers shaking, I reach behind me to undo the clip on my bra. I fumble with it, feeling many times the fool as he levels me with that cool, noncommittal stare. He appears completely unfazed by my standing in front of him almost naked. But I can feel his eyes on me. Lingering and hot, almost like a physical caress.

"My panties next?" I ask, letting the bra dangle from my fingertips before I drop it onto the floor.

"Yeah." His voice is faint and he clears his throat. Another tell that he's not as unaffected as he appears.

A tiny surge of power runs through me and I take a few steps toward him, so close I can smell his cologne, see the way his lids lower over his eyes as he not-so-discreetly drinks me in. "Do you want to help me?"

He swallows so hard I can hear it, hesitates and then shakes his head. "You seem perfectly capable of undressing yourself."

How could I forget he likes the anticipation? I hook my fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly slide the thin fabric past my hips, down my thighs, until they fall to my feet. Carefully I step out of them and stand tall, completely naked save for my favorite black Louboutins.

"Sit on the couch," he says the moment my gaze meets his again. "Now."

I turn and go to the small couch that sits in the corner of his office, farthest from the door. It's more the size of a love seat and a velvety mauve color. I perch on the edge of it, watching as he goes to his desk and plucks the tie I gave him from the desk.

White butterflies of doubt beat at my stomach and I wonder what he wants to do to me with that tie. My insides are churning with excitement and fear. I should know better than to do this.

"We only have forty minutes," he murmurs, twisting either end of the tie around his fingers. Back and forth, winding the fabric up before letting it unfurl. I watch, mesmerized by his long fingers, the pink silk a gorgeous contrast to his skin color. "Think that's enough time for me to make you cum?"

I nod shakily, excitement and fear taking away my voice.

"For women it's difficult to get there. They need foreplay, teasing and whatnot. I enjoy that too. But we don't have as much time as I'd like, so..." He lets the tie unfurl completely from one hand, so that the fabric detangles itself in front of me. "Would you let me tie you up, Connie? So I can do whatever I want to you?"

My heartbeat quickens times two and I take a shaky breath in, the image of me sprawled out with the tie I bought him wrapped tightly around my wrists."Is th-that what you want?"

He shakes his head, his expression grim, though I swear there's a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead. I'm glad to see it, because so far there have been minimal clues that he's even affected by me. "It doesn't matter what I want. What do you want?"

I lick my lips, searching for an answer. The thought of being tied up, unable to stop him from doing whatever he wants, both excites and terrifies me. I want to say yes. The practical side of me is screaming no, which admittedly is most of me, and yet...

"Tell me." He caresses my cheek with his fingertips and I lean into his hand, closing my eyes. His touch is so gentle but his words are so stern. It lights a flame in me. "Do you trust me?"

I open my eyes and stare up at him. "Absolutely not." It's true. I don't trust this man as far as I can throw him. And he seems to enjoy that, which adds more doubt. Besides, I'm putting everything at risk, especially my reputation.

And to my father and his business, my reputation is everything.

He smiles. "Good answer. You shouldn't trust me. Not completely. But I can promise that I won't hurt you. That's not my intention here. You can put a stop to this at any time. This is all for you."

All for me? No man has put my pleasure ahead of his before. But doesn't Steven want anything out of it? He's talking as if this is some great sacrifice. As if he wont be taking pleasure from me. "I understand," I lie.

"Good. Now." He pauses. "May I tie you up? Just your wrists."

Another small nod and a shaky sigh. "O-okay."

He reaches for my hands and lifts them above my head. "Lie back," he urges softly and I do as he commands, my arms resting on the edge of the back of the couch. He steps close, his chest brushing against my face as he wraps the smooth silk around my wrists once, twice, three times before tying the fabric into a knot. "This is loose enough that if you really struggled, you could break free. Or just tell me to stop and I will. Immediately."

I test the knots, jerking my wrists against the binding fabric. My butt is sunk into the cushion and my legs are slightly spread, heels braced flat on the floor. Steven steps away, his eyes roving over me, from my arms bound above my head down to my chest, my breasts pushing upward because of the position I'm in. His gaze drops farther, to the spot between my legs, and he smiles like a shark.

"Spread your legs wider."

I do, just a little though and he brings his legs in between mine and spreads them farther apart. I whimper, feeling how wet I am and how much I want this man to touch me already. To touch me more.

He doesn't leave me waiting. He takes my mouth with his and I melt. The kiss is fiery and I feel as if I could faint. He rains kisses from the side of my mouth under my ears and I reach for him, huffing as I realize I can't grip him to pull him closer.

"Leave your arms above your head," He says darkly, and I obey without question. My entire body yearns for his touch and he knows it. Instead he rains little kisses, nips and licks over my breasts and then under them, making me squirm with delight. He nears a nipple and I arch my back, letting him know I want it.

"So needy." He murmurs. But then he teases me and instead gives me something else. He nips under my ear again, and then along my collarbone. I'm trembling, my breaths coming in short puffs as he tortures me endlessly with his mouth. He licks my skin with his warm tongue and when he finally takes a quick swipe at my nipple, I cry out.

"Ssshh," he murmurs against my skin, just before he draws my nipple between his lips and sucks it deep.

I buck against him, closing my eyes and then immediately opening them again. I don't want to miss a thing. Don't want to miss the sight of Steven and his curly head of hair bent over my chest, his tongue circling my hard, wet nipple, his hand sliding down, down, down, until he's gripping the inside of my thigh and pushing my legs apart even farther.

He pulls away and kneels in front of me, his hands on the inside of my thighs, his gaze locked in between my legs. I watch him watch me, my chest rising and falling, my skin on fire, my entire body aching for more. It's all happening so fast and I feel like I could come apart at any moment. Just having his eyes on me, his fingers curling into the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, is almost enough to make me come apart.

"Beautiful," he murmurs. "And so wet."

I should be mortified that he's studying me so intently, but I secretly love it. Wish I could spread my legs farther to let him see more, all of me. He grazes his fingers over my trimmed pubic hair and I flinch. His fingers fall lower, tracing my skin with a feather-light touch. Searching my folds, streaking across my clit, sliding back down to trace every single part of me ...

"Could I make you come with just my fingers?" It's almost as if he's talking to himself. As if he's musing. "Or would you like my mouth on you, too?"

Oh God, he's trying to kill me in the absolute best way. "Your mouth," I whisper. "Please."

His eyes meet mine, full of wicked intent. "Say it again."

I whine and beg. "Please."

The sly smile that spreads across his face tells me he likes this. Making me beg. "Just my lips?" He drops the softest, briefest kiss on the very top of my pubic bone. "Or my tongue, too?"

"All of it," I say on a gasp, wishing I could grip his head with my hands and push his face into me. I'm on the edge, on the verge of falling completely apart, and he's teasing me.

Always teasing me. Testing me.

As if he knows I'm so close, he doesn't bother with words any longer. He puts his mouth on me, licking and sucking, his tongue searching my folds as he pushes his finger inside me. I whimper, tossing my head back and forth against the edge of the couch, my gaze never leaving the sight of Steven devouring me. Another finger joins the first one and he's pumping them inside my welcoming body, his lips attached to my clit, his hot mouth driving me to the brink. I can hear how wet I am inside as he curls his fingers upwards hitting my g-spot with ease. I cry out again and he licks harder and faster at my leaking cunt.

I still watch, lost to the sight of this gorgeous man bringing me so much pleasure. He runs his free hand up my thigh, over my hip, my waist, to caress my breast and I arch into his touch. He opens his eyes, once again pink, the exact color of the tie, locked directly on me. I should be terrified. I am terrified but I know better than to fall for the trick of light. The eye contact makes me even hotter and he lifts his mouth from my body, his lips damp and red.

"You like to watch."

I don't bother denying it. "I like watching you."

"You are a complete surprise." He dips his head, runs his tongue along the length of me, making me cry out. He pinches my nipple, as if that might shut me up, but the sharp taste of pain with my pleasure only makes me moan louder. "People might hear you, Connie," he chastises. "You're gonna ruin your spotless reputation."

"I don't care," I huff out, my body starting to quake. I'm almost there. So close and I close my eyes, unable to fight my body any longer. I want it. I need to come. I feel like I'm going to explode.

He rests his hand directly over my mouth, muffling my whimpers, which makes the pleasure heighten even more. "I like seeing you like this. All naked and wet and shivering, completely at my mercy."

Oh God. Now he's trying to devastate me with words. And when his lips latch onto my clit and he sucks, his tongue teasing, and now I'm there. I moan against his hand, push my hips up as the intense orgasm rushes over me, sweeping through my body until I'm left a shaky, exhausted mess. I can't stop cumming, because he wont stop licking and another, smaller orgasm takes me over as I dampen the seat under me.

Steven kisses one hip bone, then the other. Sweet, simple little kisses that melt me further. He rears up to his feet and reaches for my bound hands, undoing the tie, then rubs my wrist. The muscles in my arms shake from being in the same position for so long and I let them fall to my sides, then stretch them out in front of me.

I don't know what to say, how to act. I've never let a man bring me to orgasm on his couch in his office before, let alone while being tied up. I've never done anything like this at work. Or at home, or anywhere really. It was kinky. And I liked it.

"Twenty minutes." He backs away from the couch and checks his watch on his wrist, then smiles down at me. He looks very pleased with himself. "Which means we have another twenty minutes to kill. Unless you've ... had enough?"

I dunno guys, have you had enough? Was it worth it, or do I tell you the next part too? Ah decisions, decisions...

FilippoMasiero2

Lurkerbelow

HornedDemon666

T-Mortell

conniverse2000

EbbiTheTigress

JJisawesome876

Lunalover1718