impossible. She sank to her elbows, burying her fingers in her hair, clawing at it to keep herself from moaning.
"I think you like being punished," he surmised, his voice slightly unsteady from exertion. "I think you crave it."
She craved him, but that was something Laney absolutely refused to confess. Let him think she was just in it for the sex, the same as he was. Let him think it was a dominating personality she was attracted to, rather than finding enjoyment in being dominated because it was him taking control.
It was an embarrassingly short time later before Laney felt herself tightening, the pleasure starting in the pit of her stomach and stretching outward, her toes curling inside the shoes he hadn't bothered to remove before plunging himself inside her. He must have felt it, could read her body well, because he quickened his pace, hitting the perfect place inside her to push her over the edge. Laney bit down on her lip to keep from screaming, her body shaking and shuddering against his. He came a moment later, with a muffled groan, again holding her against him as he emptied into her.
His hand rested on her lower back for a moment, a surprisingly gentle, affectionate touch. It calmed her, though it had no business doing so. Laney had to remember he didn't care for her, didn't want to care for her. This was a game to him, a diversion at the office; fun with the temp who would be gone in a month or two. Her body was still buzzed from her orgasm, her every emotion heightened, and she almost felt like crying.
All too soon he pulled away from her and she quickly scrambled to her feet, righting her clothing as she went. She was almost composed when he spoke.
"I assume you took Fran's information when you made her appointment?" he asked, buckling his belt. Even the way he did that was viscerally sexy.
"Of course," she answered, afraid to meet his eyes; afraid he might see how much she felt for him, even in the wake of how he treated her.
"You can tell her I've changed my mind. I'll take her case. Hopefully the judge will allow for a continuation, give me a few weeks to clear some space around here. Just in case, I need you to talk to Hennessey. Get him to take my patent case."
"How? Why me?" she muttered, dazed and confused by what had just happened between them and by Michael's seeming change of heart.
He grinned. "He likes the way your legs look in a skirt, too."
##
7.
Things were… strange. No, Laney thought. That was unkind. Things were exciting. Mind numbingly pleasurable. Confusing. Even heartbreaking. But as uncomfortable as she had been with the idea of entering into a strictly sexual relationship, Laney could no longer deny that she felt more with Michael than she had ever felt in her life. He brought out a side of her she'd never experienced. In his threats to punish her, he'd actually freed an assertive part of Laney she hadn't known existed. She enjoyed toying with him, taunting him into taking her, breaking his willpower until he ha d to have her, no matter who else might be around, no matter how close they might come to being discovered.
Their relationship - she hesitated to call it that, but any other word she could think of felt too unseemly to describe how she felt when she was with him - was relegated to the confines of the office. She had never asked him to accompany her home and he had never extended a similar invitation. Michael, for his part, seemed utterly content with things as they were. Though, what man wouldn't be, Laney thought ruefully. He could burn the midnight oil then take the edge off with a well timed blow job. What was there to dislike?
For all she was enjoying the sexual liberation in their relationship - and she was most assuredly enjoying it - Laney couldn't shake the feeling that the other shoe was hanging over her head, waiting to drop.
When it finally arrived, it turned out to be a pair of size five Louboutins.
Michael had called her into his office for lunch so
"I think you like being punished," he surmised, his voice slightly unsteady from exertion. "I think you crave it."
She craved him, but that was something Laney absolutely refused to confess. Let him think she was just in it for the sex, the same as he was. Let him think it was a dominating personality she was attracted to, rather than finding enjoyment in being dominated because it was him taking control.
It was an embarrassingly short time later before Laney felt herself tightening, the pleasure starting in the pit of her stomach and stretching outward, her toes curling inside the shoes he hadn't bothered to remove before plunging himself inside her. He must have felt it, could read her body well, because he quickened his pace, hitting the perfect place inside her to push her over the edge. Laney bit down on her lip to keep from screaming, her body shaking and shuddering against his. He came a moment later, with a muffled groan, again holding her against him as he emptied into her.
His hand rested on her lower back for a moment, a surprisingly gentle, affectionate touch. It calmed her, though it had no business doing so. Laney had to remember he didn't care for her, didn't want to care for her. This was a game to him, a diversion at the office; fun with the temp who would be gone in a month or two. Her body was still buzzed from her orgasm, her every emotion heightened, and she almost felt like crying.
All too soon he pulled away from her and she quickly scrambled to her feet, righting her clothing as she went. She was almost composed when he spoke.
"I assume you took Fran's information when you made her appointment?" he asked, buckling his belt. Even the way he did that was viscerally sexy.
"Of course," she answered, afraid to meet his eyes; afraid he might see how much she felt for him, even in the wake of how he treated her.
"You can tell her I've changed my mind. I'll take her case. Hopefully the judge will allow for a continuation, give me a few weeks to clear some space around here. Just in case, I need you to talk to Hennessey. Get him to take my patent case."
"How? Why me?" she muttered, dazed and confused by what had just happened between them and by Michael's seeming change of heart.
He grinned. "He likes the way your legs look in a skirt, too."
##
7.
Things were… strange. No, Laney thought. That was unkind. Things were exciting. Mind numbingly pleasurable. Confusing. Even heartbreaking. But as uncomfortable as she had been with the idea of entering into a strictly sexual relationship, Laney could no longer deny that she felt more with Michael than she had ever felt in her life. He brought out a side of her she'd never experienced. In his threats to punish her, he'd actually freed an assertive part of Laney she hadn't known existed. She enjoyed toying with him, taunting him into taking her, breaking his willpower until he ha d to have her, no matter who else might be around, no matter how close they might come to being discovered.
Their relationship - she hesitated to call it that, but any other word she could think of felt too unseemly to describe how she felt when she was with him - was relegated to the confines of the office. She had never asked him to accompany her home and he had never extended a similar invitation. Michael, for his part, seemed utterly content with things as they were. Though, what man wouldn't be, Laney thought ruefully. He could burn the midnight oil then take the edge off with a well timed blow job. What was there to dislike?
For all she was enjoying the sexual liberation in their relationship - and she was most assuredly enjoying it - Laney couldn't shake the feeling that the other shoe was hanging over her head, waiting to drop.
When it finally arrived, it turned out to be a pair of size five Louboutins.
Michael had called her into his office for lunch so
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