My Secretary, My Mistress

He obliged, lapping his hot tongue over her sex, spreading her plump lips, and finally tasting her. She clamped her thighs around him tightly, dug her fingers into his scalp, and pulled his hair. His erection strained under the desk as he licked and sucked at her, her body going taut until she came with a whimpering cry and her sweet juices gushed into his mouth.

Grant slipped his tongue inside of her, wanting to feel the quiver of her muscles as she orgasmed. The eroticism of the moment made his cock spurt, and he gasped against her swollen flesh. Fuck me. I can’t believe I just came like that.

Isabelle pushed Grant away, rolling his chair backward until it hit the wall behind him. He looked dazed and she noticed his cock was now only semi rigid, the signs of his release all over his pants.

Smiling like the cat who’d gotten into the cream, she stood slowly and grabbed her coat and toys without speaking.

It was only when she unlocked the door and opened it that he finally spoke. “Where are you going?”

She smiled inwardly at the edge of panic that colored his question. No longer did he sound like her commanding boss. She turned to him and lifted a brow in mock surprise. “Why, home, of course.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Isabelle tapped her lips in pretended thought. “Ooh, thank you. I quite enjoyed that. Goodnight.”

And, blowing him a kiss, she walked out of his office.

He bellowed behind her, ordering her to come back and release him, but with a secret smile of satisfaction, she kept walking. Part one of her plan had been an unmitigated success. She couldn’t wait until part two.

Chapter Two

On Monday, Grant arrived at the office early and paced its length waiting for Isabelle to arrive. That is if, she had the guts to face him after what she’d done. He’d tried calling her over the weekend, but she must have been screening her calls, because he’d ended up reaching her voicemail each time. He’d thought about confronting her at home, but he’d only seen where she lived once in the dark while drunk. In the light of day when he’d driven by, the daunting row of townhouses had all looked the same and he’d refused to drive to the office like a desperate lovesick swain to look up her address.

He had mixed feelings about what she’d done to him on Friday. He’d finally managed to release himself from her duct tape bondage after much straining and rubbing against his desk. The marks of his struggle to escape were now hidden by his dress shirt’s long sleeves. He hadn’t been able to hide all the evidence of his torture when he’d finally fled that night, however. His suit jacket hadn’t quite been able to conceal the stains of his cum, an embarrassing fact the security guard downstairs had noticed with a smirk.

I still can’t believe she tied me up and used me as if I were some kind of sex toy-one that gives great tongue. Never mind that he’d enjoyed himself as well. Isabelle had called the shots and he knew that had he not come on his own, she would have left him tied up and suffering with a massive erection.

But the worst part of it all was that he wanted to do it again.

All weekend long, he’d fantasized about her. He wanted her to take charge of him again, for the experience had been nothing short of amazing. And now having had a taste of her kinky, dominant side, his Internet porn pictures and videos now paled in comparison. He needed Isabelle.

Fuck, I’m rock hard again. Unlike at home this weekend, he couldn’t just whack off, although for a second he debated locking his office door and doing so. Or maybe leaving the door unlocked and having her walk in as he did it. Grant almost came in his pants at the thought.

Where in hell is she? Grant went to his office door and peered out for what had to be the hundredth time.

As if his thoughts had called her, in she walked, looking demure and unbelievably sexy in a simple flower print dress that emphasized her generous bosom and hourglass shape.

Grant’s mouth went dry as his overactive brain imagined what she wore-or rather, what she didn’t-underneath her prim outfit.

“Isabelle, could you come in here for a minute?” he asked quietly, standing to the side of his door lest she see the tent in his pants.

Her baby blue eyes met his, and she curved her lips in a little smile. “I’m sorry, Grant, but I’ve got a pile of work to do. Can this wait until later?”

He wanted to argue with her, to force her to come into his office, but both of their phones rang before he could and, to his frustration, he found himself busy the rest of the morning.

When the noon hour arrived, he decided to ask Isabelle out to lunch-for sustenance, not sex-unless she had other ideas.

However, she wasn’t at her desk when he emerged from his office.

Damn it. She’s avoiding me. Kind of like he’d avoided her after they’d first had sex. Grant hated payback, especially when he was on the receiving end.

But he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

* * * * *

Isabelle listened absently to the handsome fellow she’d snagged as a lunch date. She had no interest in him at all. He was just another tool in her plan. And seeing Grant walk into the bistro across the street from the office, she implemented step two.

Leaning forward and catching Derek-or was it Darren?-by surprise, she whispered in his ear, something so naughty his eyes widened. Then Isabelle flicked a glance at Grant, who watched them with a thunderous look on his face.

She curved her lips in a naughty smile and kept up the intimate talk and touches with her temporary pawn until Grant left the bistro tight lipped and stiff legged. With her audience gone, she abruptly stood, leaving Darren-or was it Derek?-confused.

“Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.

Isabelle paid him no mind as she walked out of the bistro and headed for her nail salon. She wanted to be gone from the office long enough to give Grant the wrong idea.

With her tummy tingling, she had to hold in the urge to giggle. She couldn’t wait to see the sparks fly when she got back.

* * * * *

The longer Isabelle stayed out for lunch, the more Grant simmered. He’d already sneaked back to the bistro and seen that she and the other man-a man he longed to punch out-were no longer there. Had they gone off somewhere together? Was she even now letting that stranger touch her?

No. She’s mine! Grant cursed and punched the wall in his office. The pain of impact had him sucking his knuckles and bringing his anger and insane jealousy back under control. He didn’t understand his sudden possessiveness. All he knew was that he wanted to be the only one she touched and aroused.

He didn’t want to share her, but she obviously didn’t feel the same way. And when she sauntered in almost forty-five minutes later with a smile on her face and freshly coiffed hair, Grant glowered. He hated not being in control, even if the situation excited him.

“Whatever is wrong?” she asked when she finally came into his office. Her face was all smiles and sunshine.

“How was your lunch?” he snapped, unable to stop the insane jealousy that consumed him.

Isabelle’s lips curved in a sensual smile that made him, even in his anger, go rock hard.

“Delicious,” she said with a purr.

Grant growled in response. He had no right to feel jealous, because he’d been the one to ignore her the week