The Secretary

Chapter 3

“Let’s see what you can do shall we”

I sank to my knees on the plush velvet floor, the movement fluid and practiced, but my heart hammered against my ribs with an intensity that felt anything but. "Yes sir," I breathed, the words barely a whisper.

"Good girl," Lucifer murmured, his voice a low, velvety rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floor and up my spine. He settled into the large armchair, spreading his legs with an easy, entitled grace that made my mouth water. He didn't look at me like a man in a strip club; he looked at me like a king surveying his court, and I was the evening's chosen entertainment. "Now," he continued, his gaze dropping to my body, "show me."

The music in the room was a slow, pulsing electronic beat, a heavy thrum that I could feel in my bones. I rose, turning my back to him, and began to move. My hands glided over my own hips, up the curve of my waist, and into my hair. I arched my back, presenting the delicate straps of the black lingerie, the sheer fabric barely hiding my skin. Every roll of my hips, every dip of my shoulders, was an offering. I could feel his eyes on me, a physical weight that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice cutting through the music. "Stop."

I froze instantly, my hands tangled in my own hair.

"On your hands and knees," he commanded. "Crawl to me."

A fresh wave of arousal, sharp and shocking, flooded me. This was different. This wasn't a dance; it was a surrender. I lowered myself, the carpet soft against my palms. I crawled toward him, my movements slow and deliberate, keeping my eyes locked on his. The space between us shrank until I was at his feet. I could smell his cologne—a dark, spicy scent of sandalwood and something metallic, like old coins or fresh blood.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His face was close to mine, so close I could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. He didn't touch me, but his presence was a brand against my skin.

"You want to please me, don't you?" he asked, his voice a near-silent whisper.

"Yes," I breathed, the answer torn from me.

"Then don't move." He sat back, his gaze sweeping over me as I knelt before him, completely still. It was agony. My muscles screamed to move, to arch, to do something to break the tension. But I held his gaze, my breath shallow, my body thrumming with a desperate, needy energy. He was drinking in my submission, savoring my stillness. The power in the room was so thick it felt like I was drowning in it.

He reached out, not to touch my body, but to gently trace the line of my jaw with a single fingertip. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I shivered, a soft gasp escaping my lips.

"Such a good girl," he praised softly, his finger trailing down my throat, resting in the hollow at the base. "So beautiful when you're obedient."

He held his finger there, a silent claim on my pulse. I was trembling, not from cold, but from a sheer, overwhelming need. For him. For his touch. For his command. He could do anything to me right now, and I would beg for it.

Then, just as suddenly as he began, he pulled his hand back. The loss of his touch was a physical ache.

"Stand up," he said, his voice once again calm and detached. "Turn around. Face the wall."

I obeyed, my legs unsteady as I rose. I turned my back to him, pressing my palms against the cool, smooth wallpaper. I heard the rustle of his clothes as he stood, the soft tread of his shoes on the carpet. He came to stand directly behind me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body, but still not touching.

"You have a beautiful ass," he stated, his voice right next to my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. "It's a shame to waste it."

I tensed, expecting his hands on me, the tear of fabric, the forceful taking I suddenly craved more than my next breath.

Instead, he simply leaned in closer. "I'll be watching you, R," he whispered, my name a dark secret on his lips. "Don't disappoint me."

And then he was gone. I heard the door click shut, and I was left alone, my body humming with unspent energy, my hands still pressed to the wall, trembling violently. He hadn't laid a single hand on me, but I had never felt more thoroughly f****d in my life.