Office Rules: The Assistant (Book 1)

Chapter 3

“You alright, Morrison?” the man across from me asked.

I couldn’t remember his name; I had seen him plenty of times, but he wasn’t memorable. “Just a bit warm,” I said reassuringly.

My face was burning now from Mr. Harris’ fingertip circling my c**t in slow, controlled motions. Someone made a joke I didn’t catch, and everyone laughed, things moved quickly after that - my orgasm getting dangerously close as they went over stats and every other mind-numbing thing they could. My every nerve was on fire, my p***y was slick and my thighs were quivering. When he called the meeting to a close, I almost jumped out of my chair with excitement, he couldn’t possibly leave me like this, right?

“Miss Morrison, collect your things and I’ll meet you back in my office,” Mr. Harris instructed calmly. I nodded and stood up shakily, the last of the men cleared out and he suddenly stepped close to me, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “Take the panties off and hand them over.” His fingers danced over my collarbone with his words before trailing down between my breasts to my skirt.

Blowing out a ragged breath, I shimmied out of them while holding his gaze. Bending down, I picked up the white lace and pressed it into his palm before I left, he lagged behind, but I didn’t draw attention to it. The hallway was awash with chattering employees and harsh, barely contained whispers that made my heart catch in my throat. Did any of them suspect anything? Did they hear what Mr. Harris asked me to do? I couldn’t dwell. The ride back up to his often was strangely the most erotic part of our encounter; I could feel the distinct lack of underwear, there was a heated dampness between my legs that was incredibly foreign, and all the while I was still giddy about doing that in front of so many other people despite the fear that they might know what was going on.

Back in his office I wiped my sweaty palms and reached for water out of the minibar, he couldn’t exactly say no to me having one after that act. I opened up the camera on my phone to check my makeup; the swooping black liner perfectly accented my cool grey eyes, and the w***e red lipstick stood out vibrantly against my porcelain skin. I really needed a tan, I hated being this pale in the winter. Mm, tanning in Bermuda with him… I whipped around as the door opened behind me, immediately I dropped the phone and greeted Mr. Harris again. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence as he walked around to his chair and relaxed into the plush black leather.

His eyes pinned me to my spot and my heart started pounding again. “Please lock the door, Miss Morrison.” I nodded and locked the large wooden door, when I turned back around, he was undoing his belt. “Now get your ass over here,” he ordered darkly.

Oh, f**k. I had to walk carefully toward him, my knees were threatening to give out with every step. He gestured for me to stand between him and the desk before forcing my skirt up over my hips. Cool air greeted my p***y as it was exposed to him and I was extremely grateful for the recent wax I had gotten but had wanted to cancel. He lifted me up onto the desk and pushed my legs wide apart so he could lean in. I gasped and clutched his hair just as his mouth met my c**t and sucked hard on the sensitive nub. I braced my feet on his armrests and moaned loudly as his tongue probed my s*x.

He pulled my legs up over his shoulders and I squealed in shock from the sudden change in position. I was writhing against his mouth; his stubble tickling my thighs, two fingers teasing my entrance and his tongue flicking my c**t over and over. The waves of pleasure that radiated from my groin had me moaning wantonly and panting as I got closer. His fingers suddenly plunged deep inside me and I cried out as my hips jerked up, my orgasm rocking through me while fireworks blossomed behind my eyelids.

After a minute he sat back and I pushed myself up while gasping for air from the force of my orgasm. Everything came crashing down around me and I started to wonder what the f**k I had just done. This was my boss, a man twice my age, who my relationship until today had been strictly work-related. And I had to be the most cliched stereotype in the world. I barely had time to process my own emotions when movement caught my eye and my mouth fell open as he freed his c**k; it was bigger than anything I had imagined—bigger than anyone I had been with—thick and long, the head a deep red, and decorated in several raised veins that emphasised the upward curve. I gawked openly as he stood up, his fist stroking up and down the length with knuckles flexing in his obviously tight grip.

“Stand up and turn around Miss Morrison,” he growled. Mr. Harris’ glacial eyes stared me down, I did as he said despite the half of my brain screaming that this was a terrible idea. As soon as I was facing the door he pushed me down and pinned me to the desk, his arm braced across my shoulders as his c**k teased my entrance.

He’s not wearing a condom. He hadn’t asked about birth control or if it was okay to go bare, and I’d never done it without a condom before. Part of me wanted to shove him away, to take control of the moment but the other parts of me were thrilled that he wasn’t asking. There was no “is that okay?” or “how about this?” and “are you sure?” because he was sure, and I was more than willing.

Without warning, he slammed into me, his groin hitting my ass hard as he bottomed out. I whimpered at the sting, my p***y was stretched more than it had ever been, and I had no warning before he did it. My mouth hung open and my eyes rolled back as he hit my cervix again and again. Every thrust raked against my g-spot and my body was on fire once more. Tears burned in my eyes even as the pressure in me started to build. He grunted and pressed his chest into my back, making breathing difficult as my breath was knocked out of me every time he pushed in.

“f**k, you’re so wet,” he said with a groan. “I didn’t think you’d be this easy.”

Embarrassment made my face burn and my nails dug into the hardwood beneath me. “I’m not easy,” I gasped out in a high pitched whine.

He barked a nasty laugh and twisted my hair around his fist before he jerked me back to him. “Your cunt is dripping, you let me finger you in front of twenty people, and now you’re letting me f**k you on my desk and it isn’t even noon,” he snarled directly in my ear, his hot breath tickling my cheek and intoxicating me all in one. “You’re a f*****g slut, Miss Morrison.”

Ohmigod. The electric current his words sent to my c**t was almost more embarrassing than his words. People didn’t actually do that, getting called degrading names like that only happened in porn, and none of my exes ever said anything during s*x. But I couldn’t stop my p***y from clenching on his length and crying out as I came. My shout was cut off as he pushed his fingers into my mouth and I sucked on them eagerly, tasting my fluid.

“Say it,” he snapped. “Tell me what a f*****g slut you are, Lydia.”

“I’m a filthy slut,” I cried. His fingers trailing my saliva down my chin. “I’m a filthy f*****g slut, Mr. Harris!”

His movement sped up and he panted as his hands moved to grip my hips, his fingers digging into my skin so hard I had to wonder if there would be bruises later. With a loud groan, he pushed into me completely and I grit my teeth at the uncomfortable pressure. The sudden flood of warmth inside me was foreign and I couldn’t help my soft gasp at the sensation. Without any preamble, he pulled out and there was an obscene splattering sound as his release dripped from me onto the floor.

I pushed myself up after a moment, breathing rapidly and my hands shaking. I slid my skirt back down and fixed my rumpled shirt, I could feel the rest of his fluid leaking down my thigh and my face burned as I turned to him.

“Can I have my underwear back?” My voice was barely a whisper and I couldn’t meet his eyes as I held out my hand.

Mr. Harris smiled affectionately back at me. “No, I don’t think so.” He reached out and stroked my cheek as he spoke.