Dangerous Affair with my hot boss

CHAPTER 005: TOUCH ME, MASTER

~~ELLIE~~

He sent for me.

I hadn’t even sat down yet in my office when his equally arrogant P.A., Jeremy Fischer, came in and announced Mr. Ashworth had requested for me. It felt like I'd been called into the principal's office. It was definitely about last night—the second worst night of my life. I'd drunk two shots of tequila for confidence, but it had been for nothing—if anything, it dulled my sense of realization that the dominant voice controlling me in that dark hotel room was my boss's—Marcus Ashworth.

"Maybe he wants to hook up again, properly this time. Let's be positive," Gia whispered as she helped me reapply mascara. Thankfully, we were the only ones in the office.

I'd told her about the awkward incident with Mr. Ashworth at Zeus as soon as I got home last night. She laughed. A lot.

"What if he does fire me?!" I pulled away, eyes wide with panic.

Gia rolled her eyes. "He won't. It's either of two things—" she began as she pulled out her very expensive perfume from her last trip to Dubai and sprayed it all over me. "One, he wants to make sure you keep last night a secret, or second, which I personally think it is, he wants another shot at licking your cunt."

I squirmed as I remembered—no, felt—his tongue twirling in my core.

Fuck, it felt so good. I literally shuddered just from replaying that hot moment.

"Alright. There's no need to panic. Everything will be fine." I inhaled deeply.

"Good. Now go show that hot, angry millennial who's boss." She dusted my chiffon maroon blouse, and I couldn't help but laugh at that.

Gia was the best work bestie ever.

"Okay." I took in another deep breath before walking to the door. I looked back, and Gia gave me two thumbs up before I walked out.

Mr. Ashworth's office was the largest room in the building. It was located on the last floor. I'd been in here once, during my third interview. I'd been a stuttering mess because I hadn't expected my boss to be so handsome—like the male lead in a romance movie—and intimidating as well.

He was seated in his "CEO" chair, waiting for me to stand in front of him like a criminal facing the judge.

"You sent for me, Mr. Ash—"

"Don't call me that," he clipped, tapping his fountain pen on a document.

"Not after I had my tongue in your between your thighs last night."

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't believe he just said that out loud.

"Sir, that is highly inappropriate," I rasped.

"Oh, I think we've gone beyond inappropriate, Elena." He stood up, adjusted his suit jacket, and walked to me. I took a step back.

"And that is why we need to straighten things out."

"Are you firing me?" I blurted out.

A&T was a really great company. I loved my job here, and good jobs like this didn't come easily—despite the CEO being an asshole.

"I'm not going to tell anyone." I shook my head frantically.

"I don't think you will, being that you're married." His eyes fell on my wedding ring.

"It's not what you think," I said quickly, putting my hand behind me.

I knew what this looked like—a wife looking for fun elsewhere because her husband couldn't satisfy her. But that wasn't the case. I was in an open marriage, and my husband was having his fun with his secretary. I was done caring. This was me doing whatever the hell I wanted to escape depression.

And how's that going for you? my alter ego asked. I had no reply for her.

"It's none of my business what you do and don't do in your marriage, but before you go off blabbing to whoever cares to listen in your circle of friends, I'd advise you to reread the terms and conditions of the app. There are legally bound rules. If you expose my identity to anyone, I'll be pressing charges."

"There's no need for all of that. Like I said, I'm not telling anyone." I almost cried out.

Did he really think I was a blabbermouth?

"Then I guess we're good then." He dipped his hands in his pockets, almost turning away.

"Actually..." I made him stop.

He looked over at me with the perpetual scowl on his ridiculously perfect face.

"I was hoping..." I swallowed, twiddling my thumbs behind me.

"I was hoping we could... do it."

"Do what?" He blinked. I caught the ghost of a smirk on his face. Smug bastard.

"The, uh, the..." a shaky breath escaped me.

"We could hook up exclusively—that is, if we're both down for it."

He stared at me like I'd just suggested we went on a money heist.

"Let me get this straight." He held a hand up.

"You want me to hook up with you again even after realizing I'm Mr. A and your f*****g boss?"

A beat passed.

"Yes."

Another long flabbergasted look, then his eyes went dark.

Oh damn.

"So..." He took a step towards me, backing me up against the chair.

"You want your boss to undress you, stuff your moist panties in your hot little mouth, bend you over, and f**k you till you come so hard, you'll be making a puddle of p***y juice at your feet?"

"You can do that to me?." I gasped like a child that had just been told Santa was real and lived nextdoor.

"Jesus. You're f*****g—" Mr. Ashworth turned half around, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I thought you were one of the good girls, you know, the type that only daydream about cats, rainbows, limited ideas of s*x, vanilla, and normal stuff like that." He breathed hard, his chest expanding, and I saw how his hands shook.

Was he feeling this way because of me?

"I should have known your type. Redhead, nerdy bangs, an innocent face. I should have known this Miss Goody Two-Shoes facade was covering up a freak in the sheets. You're a freak in the sheets, aren't you, Ellie?"

I had to grip the chair behind me so I didn't fall over.

"Yes, yes I am." I replied, my mouth drier than a desert. I shrank with every step he took toward me.

Another step, and he lodged his knee between my thighs arrogantly, his hands coming to grip my waist. All the while, his very grayish and beautiful eyes never left mine.

"And you'll do what I tell you to because you know what I'm capable of doing—what I'm capable of doing to your hot little body."

"Yes, Master, I know." A soft gasp escaped my lips as heat coiled low in my belly.

It was crazy how he easily exuded dominance—like that heavy word was made for him.

"You'll make a good pet for me, won't you?" He leaned in, his nose brushing mine, his hands pressing into my sides.

I arched into his touch, my skin aching for more, every nerve in my body alive and straining.

"You'll stuff your mouth full of my c**k while I read a magazine and not give a s**t about you between my legs, suck me dry until I have nothing left to pump down your throat, and I'll pat your head, and you could orgasm just from that, won't you?"

I was jerking now, waves of pleasure washing over me.

"Yes, oh yes, Master, touch me, please, please touch me, Master." I pleaded, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes, my heart pounding loudly, threatening to tear out my chest.

"Or maybe I won't. I could c*m on your pretty face, or your plump t**s, maybe your soft belly, and you'll let me, won't you? You'll let me because you're a good little pet, aren't you?"

His hot breath danced on my parted lips.

God, the way he was talking—he was such a dirty talker—and I felt each and every word right in the juncture of my thighs.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to touch him or I might pass out. I reached for his face, but he moved away like I'd held out a hot iron.

"No." He growled, stepping back. Just like that, the s****l tension snapped—not entirely. We were both breathing hard and fast, unable to look away from each other.

"What? Why?" I asked, absolutely distorted.

"We can't do this. It's not gonna happen. Not with me." He turned away, heading back to his seat.

I should have walked away then, gathered whatever remained of my dignity, and walked out of my boss's office. I didn't. Instead, I opened my mouth and said the most embarrassing word ever.

"Please..."

His head snapped up, his eyes flashed with anger and... something untamed.

"Don't push me, Elena. You don't know what you're asking for," he said dangerously.

"We're not hooking up again, and it's final." His hand sliced horizontally through the air, modifying the finality of his words.

I wanted to cry, but I'd rather jump down a four-story building than cry in front of Mr. Ashworth.

"You can leave now," he muttered, his eyes dropping down to the documents on his table.

I sniffled, holding back tears. I waited for him to say something else—anything—but he didn't. Beyond mortified and embarrassed, I walked out of my boss's office—a total mess.