squeals. When she finally fell limp he switched it off and placed it back in the drawer of the secretary.
“Oh, Sir, that was amazing,” she whimpered, trying to catch her breath, and weird, really weird, and…shit, just so weird.
Connor pulled on his trousers and zipped himself up, preparing himself for round two.
“Stand up, remove your panties and pull your skirt down.”
Slightly dizzy, Abigail did as he asked and unsteadily turned to face him.
“Come here,” he said warmly, opening his arms.
Gratefully moving forward she curled herself into his chest, surrendering to his hug and her post-orgasmic lull.
“You know what might be wonderful?” he crooned.
“What?” she whispered.
“Why don’t you stay here for a couple of days? Not right away of course, I have some very important business I have to take care of, but I want you to come back and sleep over,” he said invitingly. “You can make dinner. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in months.”
“Sure. I would love that,” she sighed.
“Can you stay a little while longer?”
“I wish I could,” she moaned. “I have to get back to work. I’m already totally late.”
“Forget work, call in sick.”
“I’d really like that,” she whispered, stepping back and staring up at him. The name calling was strange, the whole thing was strange, but he’s so good-looking, and this house…
“Call in, go on, for me,” he pressed. “Don’t you want to please me?”
“Yes, I do,” she replied, feeling overwhelmed. “My phone is in my bag. I left it in your car.”
“You stay here, and Abby, in this house you’re not allowed to wear any underwear, so lose the bra.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She watched him stride away, flopping down on the couch, and though still unnerved by his strange commands she pushed them to the back of her mind.
Connor grinned broadly as he walked out to the garage. Things had progressed just as he’d planned and it felt marvelous to be back in control, to once again have a sniveling slut in his clutches. Climbing into his car he found her bag, removed her wallet and keys, and leaving them on the passenger seat, he carried it back into the living room.
“I want to hear you lie,” he smiled, handing her the bag.
He was serious. It was important that he observe her so he could pick up any ‘tells’ she might have, nervous ticks that he could watch for as he brought her into his life.
She was the receptionist at a dentist’s office, and was already an hour late. Reaching into her bag she pulled out her phone and dialed the direct line for the office manager. Connor sat next to her, leaning forward, watching her intently.
“It’s gone to her voicemail,” she whispered.
“Leave a message.”
“Okay. Nancy? Hi, it’s me. Listen, I’m sorry, I think I have food poisoning or a stomach bug or something. I’m at home, I’m really sick and I’m turning off my phones. I’ll call you later. Sorry, bye.”
“Excellent,” Connor smiled, putting and arm around her shoulder and taking the phone from her hand.
He’d noticed her right eyebrow raise up when she’d talked about being sick and turning off her phones, information that he would file away for future use.
“Tell me who all these people are,” he continued, scrolling through her contacts. “I want to know all about you.”
Abigail had never felt so special. Connor was interested in all her friends and family, but as she went through each name, explaining who they were and where they lived, she was relieved she’d never gotten around to adding Zander as a contact. Connor hadn’t seemed very happy when she’d mentioned that she’d been with someone just a couple of nights before, and she didn’t want to explain about their night at the club.
“Sir?” she asked demurely.
“Yes, Abby?”
“We’ve just spent all this time talking about me. What about you? What about your friends and family?”
“I am just a humble architect. My family is
“Oh, Sir, that was amazing,” she whimpered, trying to catch her breath, and weird, really weird, and…shit, just so weird.
Connor pulled on his trousers and zipped himself up, preparing himself for round two.
“Stand up, remove your panties and pull your skirt down.”
Slightly dizzy, Abigail did as he asked and unsteadily turned to face him.
“Come here,” he said warmly, opening his arms.
Gratefully moving forward she curled herself into his chest, surrendering to his hug and her post-orgasmic lull.
“You know what might be wonderful?” he crooned.
“What?” she whispered.
“Why don’t you stay here for a couple of days? Not right away of course, I have some very important business I have to take care of, but I want you to come back and sleep over,” he said invitingly. “You can make dinner. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in months.”
“Sure. I would love that,” she sighed.
“Can you stay a little while longer?”
“I wish I could,” she moaned. “I have to get back to work. I’m already totally late.”
“Forget work, call in sick.”
“I’d really like that,” she whispered, stepping back and staring up at him. The name calling was strange, the whole thing was strange, but he’s so good-looking, and this house…
“Call in, go on, for me,” he pressed. “Don’t you want to please me?”
“Yes, I do,” she replied, feeling overwhelmed. “My phone is in my bag. I left it in your car.”
“You stay here, and Abby, in this house you’re not allowed to wear any underwear, so lose the bra.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She watched him stride away, flopping down on the couch, and though still unnerved by his strange commands she pushed them to the back of her mind.
Connor grinned broadly as he walked out to the garage. Things had progressed just as he’d planned and it felt marvelous to be back in control, to once again have a sniveling slut in his clutches. Climbing into his car he found her bag, removed her wallet and keys, and leaving them on the passenger seat, he carried it back into the living room.
“I want to hear you lie,” he smiled, handing her the bag.
He was serious. It was important that he observe her so he could pick up any ‘tells’ she might have, nervous ticks that he could watch for as he brought her into his life.
She was the receptionist at a dentist’s office, and was already an hour late. Reaching into her bag she pulled out her phone and dialed the direct line for the office manager. Connor sat next to her, leaning forward, watching her intently.
“It’s gone to her voicemail,” she whispered.
“Leave a message.”
“Okay. Nancy? Hi, it’s me. Listen, I’m sorry, I think I have food poisoning or a stomach bug or something. I’m at home, I’m really sick and I’m turning off my phones. I’ll call you later. Sorry, bye.”
“Excellent,” Connor smiled, putting and arm around her shoulder and taking the phone from her hand.
He’d noticed her right eyebrow raise up when she’d talked about being sick and turning off her phones, information that he would file away for future use.
“Tell me who all these people are,” he continued, scrolling through her contacts. “I want to know all about you.”
Abigail had never felt so special. Connor was interested in all her friends and family, but as she went through each name, explaining who they were and where they lived, she was relieved she’d never gotten around to adding Zander as a contact. Connor hadn’t seemed very happy when she’d mentioned that she’d been with someone just a couple of nights before, and she didn’t want to explain about their night at the club.
“Sir?” she asked demurely.
“Yes, Abby?”
“We’ve just spent all this time talking about me. What about you? What about your friends and family?”
“I am just a humble architect. My family is
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