Arianne ’m immersed in my meeting with SCORE’s design team when a text message flies across my screen. I do a double take when I notice Beckett’s name. Shit. Dread twists my stomach. Worried I’ll get busted, I snatch the phone from the table and place it on my lap. It vibrates again. Unable to contain my curiosity, I unlock it, and try to read the message as inconspicuous as possible. “Do you need to get that?” Flora Crandell, the head of design, points to my phone. “I’m sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “I’ll be a minute.” “Sure. We’ve had you trapped in here for the last two hours,” she says. “Thanks,” I say with a small smile. I drop my eyes to my phone. Beckett: I thought we had an understanding. After a long and demanding day, I expected a reward, but I won’t get one because you ignored my command. My cheeks burst into flames. Arianne: Your request is totally unreasonable and it would compromise me. Beckett: In what sense? Arianne: It’s too long to explain via text. Walking commando when you’re wearing a white skirt is the kiss of death. Beckett: When I give you a command, I expect you to follow it. Arianne: What’s up with this ‘command’ business? You’re technically not my boss! I’m a consultant. Beckett: Semantics, dear friend. Semantics. You know as well as I do, I **AM** the boss of you. I proved it last night. Not that I needed any more incentive than last night’s saucy images incessantly flashing in front of my eyes, but the reminder soaks my panties. Arianne: You’re exerting excessive power, Mr. Christensen. What kind of friendship is this? Beckett: By the time I’m done with you, Miss Buchanan, you’ll learn. You’re mine. Mine to boss around. Mine to command. Mine. Enough with this back and forth. Get your fine ass up here. The dominance in those words is my undoing. Beckett: So we’re clear, I want you up here ASAP. Don’t make me come down there and get you. The warning is so forceful. So thrilling. I don’t have an ounce of rebellion in me, but for some strange inexplicable reason, I’d love nothing more than to test his limits. “Is everything okay?” My eyes fly up at Flora’s question. Everyone in the room is staring at me Get a grip. You don’t want the five people around the table to read you like an open book.
“I’m sorry, Flora. It appears Beckett has an urgent matter he’d like to discuss.” “No problem. It’s getting late anyway. Let’s wrap it up and we can have another meeting tomorrow.” “That sounds great,” I say. The other team members nod their agreement. Meeting adjourned. I gather my things and dash out of the conference room. Another message flashes across my screen as I head to the elevators. Beckett: Someone is in big trouble. I hope you’re on your way. I quicken my st ep. When I reach the executive floor, it’s almost deserted. I shimmy as fast as I can to Beckett’s office. I catch my breath before knocking. “Come in.” His de ep voice penetrates the door. I open it and peek inside. He’s sitting on his throne—I mean, seat. His elbows rest on the desk, his fingers intertwined together, his chin resting on them, his gaze lasered on me. He looks like a king. A ruler who holds my fate in his hands. I swallow hard. “Who do we have here?” The sarcasm in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “Oh yeah, the bad girl who disobeyed me.” I ignore the snide remark. “You wanted to see me,” I say, st epping into his office. He jerks his head back, arching his eyebrows. “I see you’ve made ‘holy chic’ a permanent motto. I like it. A lot.” I grin like a fool. “When I bought my outfit for last night, Andrea had a number of selections she thought would look good on me. I really liked this one, and it’s so hot in LA, my three-piece suits were unbearable.” “Come here.” Beckett wiggles a finger, beckoning me. I drop my i Pad, not epad, and handbag on the console table near the door and approach him. “I want you right here,” he says, swiveling his chair to the side. I round his desk and stand in front of him. “You look fucking amazing.” Admiration shines bright in his eyes. “Thank you.” I blush. “Turn around.” I give him a twirl. “Damn, woman.” He reaches up for my blouse, but in my nervousness, I st ep back. “I want you right here I said.” He points between his parted legs. I r eposition myself. He reaches up and undoes two buttons. It was a struggle to leave one open. Three? I feel naked. I bring my hands up in an attempt to cover up. “Don’t hide from me, Arianne.” I hesitate, but lower my hands. “Look at you. I don’t recognize you.” He runs a hand through my hair, flirting with my shoulders. “A sexy silk blouse. A flirty white skirt. Your hair... I love it. Same for the impeccably applied makeup that showcases your gorgeous eyes. And those lips...” His appraisal and compliments make me giddy. Sure, I hoped he’d notice, but I didn’t expect this much. Phoebe and I intend on spending most of Saturday at Neiman Marcus shopping our heads off, but I couldn’t leave the store yesterday without this outfit. The champagne-colored silk blouse is so feminine and nothing like the stiff cotton shirts I gravitate towards. The white asymmetric skirt with ruffled hem that hits me below the knee is such a d eparture from my usual conservative pencil skirts. Since I owned the nude Cedrics patent leather high heels, they were the logical choice. And not a vest in sight. In fact, I didn’t even bother with a blazer this morning.
“What’s the story behind the buttoned-up suits? I sense it’s more than a fashion statement.” I didn’t expect Beckett’s question. “A suit sends a message.” “What kind of message?” “It says I know what I’m talking about. People take me seriously when I dress the part, despite my age.” His eyebrows hit his forehead. “Arianne, your brain works in a way that’s unparalleled. People will take you seriously because what comes out of your mouth is pure genius. They’ll be hooked when they find out you’re the full package—brains, beauty, and charm. I know I was.” Oh, wow. “The buttoned-up suit is a distraction.” “You’re full of compliments,” I say with feigned detachment. “It’s the truth,” he says. My brain tends to scare people away—including members of my own family. To hear a powerful man who can have any woman he wants talk about me like this is overwhelming. “Is the new look here to stay?” “I won’t wear suits every day anymore... unless I want to suffocate.” “I approve.” I bite my lower lip. Beckett reaches out and caresses the star pendant dangling from my neck. “Does this mean anything?” “Not really.” I shrug. “I bought it at a high-end jeweler in Carmel when I got my first bonus. It’s an antique brooch that was transformed into a pendant. I liked the contrast between the white gold brooch encrusted with diamond and white pearls combined with a modern yellow gold chain. I figured it’s the kind of piece a grandmother would pass down as an heirloom,” I pause and swallow hard. “I don’t have a grandmother per se, so I figured why not...” I let my words trail. Beckett’s blue eyes search mine. “Why do I feel there’s a story behind that?” “Because there is.” I don’t offer more. “Maybe one day you’ll tell me.” “Maybe,” I say in a small voice. “Why did you disobey me, Arianne?” He gets down to business. I avert my gaze. He places two fingers under my chin, forcing my attention back to him. “I expect an answer from you.” “I’m wearing a white skirt, Beckett.” “So?” I clear my throat. “A wet spot would be... noticeable.” “Thinking of me makes you wet?” “Yes,” I say in a murmur. He nods. “It’s mutual.” “I make you wet?” I giggle. “No, silly. You make me fucking hard.” Beckett reaches for my skirt and pulls the fabric up until it bunches around my ass. “Pull it up further. I want to see what you’re hiding.” His words cause my heart to beat at an infernal rate. Still, I do as I’m told. The cool air caresses my skin as I bare myself to him. “Lace the same color as the blouse,” he says. “Nice. Take them off and hand them over.” He extends his hand. I spent the day in a constant state of arousal, but now, I’m about to combust. I’m so nervous, I almost fall off my heels in my attempt to st ep out of my panties. Beckett reaches out and holds me steady. I ready myself to bend down, but he beats me to do it. He picks up my panties, brings the scrap of champagne-colored lace to his nose and inhales with his eyes closed. The sight makes me dizzy. “And they’re soaking wet. You’re right, a wet spot would’ve been like a bulls-eye.” Thank God he understands. “Still, you disobeyed me and I can’t let it slide.” Uh oh. My eyebrows draw together. “What does that mean?” “Bad girls who can’t follow orders get punished.” “Like you’re going to send me to my room?” “No. Like I’m going to put you over my knee and redden your ass.” “No, you’re not,” I say, horrified. “You’re putting an end to our friendship?” He cocks eyebrow. “Think of the benefits you’d be giving up...”
My clit we eps. “Is it going to hurt?” “So, this was your plan all along. You wanted my imprint on your ass. Admit it.” I roll my eyes at his mocking words. “You’re out of your mind. Until a minute ago, it never crossed my mind.” “Yet, you’re curious.” I offer a one-shoulder shrug. “To answer your question, it’s the best kind of pleasure and pain,” he says. “It’ll sting, but I promise I’ll make it go away.” I ponder his words. “It sounds kinky.” “That’s because it is. Here’s how we’re going to play this game. You get ten slaps if you count. Twenty, if I count.” “I don’t need two college degrees to figure out which one is the best option—” “Ke ep up with the sass and it’ll be thirty.” I gulp. “What if I can’t make it up to ten?” “I’ll give you an incentive.” “I’m afraid to ask.” This guy is dangerous. I doubt I’ll be able to handle whatever he has up his sleeve. “Remember what I said about pleasure and pain?” I nod. “I’ll angle your body so your pussy rests on this.” He cups the bulge between his legs and squeezes. “That’s your incentive to come hard for me.” The devilish glee glaring in his eyes should come as a warning, but my pussy does all the thinking when I say, “Only ten, right?” “I won’t ask for more.” I worry my lower lip. “What if I don’t like it?” “Everything stops.” “Okay.” “Strip for me. Ke ep only the bra and heels. Since we’re going out for dinner after I’m done perverting you, we don’t want your clothes to get wrinkled.” “We’re going out for dinner after?” I can’t hide my surprise. “Two people breaking bread is a healthy sign of a long-lasting friendship,” he says. “Not to mention, you said you didn’t know anybody in LA. I figured you might not want to eat alone.” “That’s so thoughtful of you.” “That’s the kind of guy I am,” he says. “I won’t have to eat alone for much longer. My best friend will be back tomorrow.” “Does it mean you won’t have dinner with me anymore?” “I’ll still have dinner with you,” I say with a laugh. “I like the sound of that.” His boyish smile is disarming. “You’re making me wait.” He waves an impatient finger up and down the length of my body. “Every minute that ticks by is an extra slap.” Good grief. He’s back to being Beckett, the uncompromising ruler. I undress under his lustful gaze. “Let’s move over there.” He points near the window. “It’ll be more comfortable.” He gets up and extends a hand. I take it and he walks us both to the couch. He removes his jacket, places it on one of the modern leather side chairs and sits on the long couch. “Bring your sexy ass over here.” Beckett fixes me with a look that could compel the most devote and pious nun to moonlight as a stripper. It’s pure, adulterated carnal lust. Pure filth. Pure wantonness. It’s like the Big Bad Wolf eyeing Little Red Riding Hood. Chance never made me feel wanted or desired like this. Not even a
two-thousand-dollar bespoke corset from an upscale San Francisco lingerie shop got a reaction from my ex. Mariah walking around braless in a cheap tank top with her ginormous melons spilling from every corner did. “I feel like I lost you.” Beckett forces me back to the moment. “Where did you go?” “It’s nothing,” I say. “Why do I have a tough time believing you?” Old insecurities cre ep up. “I feel so sexually inadequate.” “What changed since a minute ago?” His boomerang question catches me off guard. I can only answer with a shrug. He stands up and approaches me, places a hand on my shoulder and uses the other hand to lift my chin. “Does this have to do with your ex?” I hitch a breath. “Maybe.” I hate myself for allowing Chance to ruin this moment. “It took forever to clean the river of cum dripping down your legs after I released myself all over your ass like a wild animal, Arianne. Would a sexually inadequate woman do that to me?” “Men fake it,” I say. “Your ex must be quite the magician because even if you OD on Viagra, you can’t fake cum. Plain and simple.” “You can fake attractiveness.” He grabs my hand and places it on his cock. “Does this feel fake to you?” Jesus, he’s rock hard. “What about this?” He crushes my lips in an all-encompassing kiss that steals my breath away. He breaks our embrace, and I miss the passionate that ignites throughout my body when his lips touch mine. “I guess not,” I say, panting. “I never see a woman twice. I never have dinner with women I’ve been with. And until this morning, I had never walked into a flower shop to buy flowers for a woman who wasn’t related to me. My executive assistant orders flowers for female staff members celebrating milestones.” Oh. My. God. “You’re throwing a lot at me, Beckett,” I say. “Don’t you ever question my attractiveness towards you. You hear me?” My heart could burst right now. “I do.” “Can we forget about your idiot ex and get back to the program?” I do a hand gesture simulating an explosion. “Poof, he’s gone.” Beckett chuckles. “Another thing. If I didn’t think you were fucking hot, I wouldn’t have craved you all night long.” Oh, wow. “Halfway to my house, I wanted to turn my car around and go back to your place for round two.” No way. I grin wide. “We’re good?” I nod. “We’re good.” He goes and sits on the couch. “I want you right here.” He taps his thighs, beckoning me over. I take a de ep breath, filling my lungs with as much air as possible. I’ll need courage—and maybe a Higher Power—to go through with this. I take a st ep, but he stops me with one word. “Crawl.” Holy Jesus. When I don’t move, he points to the floor. I hesitate, but drop to my knees and do something I never thought I’d do in my life. “Good girl.” How can an act feel demeaning and powerful at the same time? “Get on my lap,” he says when I reach him. He helps me assume the position.
My fear turns to arousal. “You feel that?” He tilts his hips up, pressing his bulge against my pussy. “God, yes.” “Sliding my cock between your ass cheeks last night was a beautiful thing.” “We could have a r epeat instead of you punishing me.” “Yesterday you were a good girl. That’s not the case today.” Two strong hands grope my ass. I moan. I turn my head so I don’t miss on the naughty action. He wets his middle finger and with his eyes locked on mine, he slides it into my desperate pussy. A throaty groan es capes me. He slides his finger in and out of me before retracting it all together. “So fucking wet for me,” he says, examining his slick finger. “I gather you’ve never tasted yourself?” I shake my head. “Open wide for me.” I do. He sticks his finger into my mouth. “Clean it up. And I want to hear it.” Holy dirty. With one hand on my ass, pinning me in place, his bulge rolling against my pussy, I lick his finger clean with a series of loud slurps. That’s all it takes to push me off the cliff. Taken by surprise, I squeeze my thighs together as the fizz of an orgasm makes me cry out. Oh, dear sweet Lord. “Did you just come?” The warning in his voice makes me shiver all over again. I don’t answer. “Arianne, I asked you a question.” “I... well... you...” My MBA does nothing for my ability to string a cohesive sentence together. “Try that again.” “It was... unexpected.” “Did I tell you to come?” “I couldn’t help it.” “Did I tell you to come?” “No,” I say in a meek voice. “You disobeyed me. Again.” “You can’t hold it against me,” I say. “How do you expect me to ke ep it together when you ke ep doing these raunchy things to me?” “I expect you to come when I tell you to come.” “You’re such a hardball.” He squints and his lips form a slow grin. “Congratulations. You just got yourself an upgrade. It’s twenty slaps now.” “What? You can’t do that.” “My building. My office. My rules.” Before I can plead my case, the first slap cracks against my ass. “Shit.” “No, baby, that’s not how this game is played,” he says. “Let’s try that again.” Slap. “Jesus.” He sighs. “Arianne, I can ke ep doing this all night long,” he says. “Is that what you want?” “Beckett—” Slap. I yelp, kicking out my legs, the move grinding my pussy against him. He pins me in place. “Stop moving.” Slap. “One,” I say. “That was one.” “You’re a quick learner.” I turn around. His evil laugh is demonic. “Eyes up front.” I obey. Slap. “Two.” Slap. “Three.” He slaps me from right below my cheeks. Quivering sensations travel all the way to my needy clit. On and on he goes. Each slap makes me more and more delirious. I can’t even explain it. Slap. “Twelve,” I say in a shaky voice. “You’re doing so well, baby.” I meet his gaze. “Beckett, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
“It hurts?” “No. Yes.” “Which is it?” “It hurts in a good way.” “What’s the problem, then?” “I need to come.” My pussy is pulsating, matching the thud of my heart. Not to mention my ass is on fire. “I thought we already had that discussion.” “What am I supposed to do?” “Wait for my command.” “But—” “You come without my consent and we start back at one, Arianne. Your choice.” I consider him. He arches an eyebrow, daring me to protest. I look away. Slap. “Thirteen.” As further punishment, Beckett tilts his hips, rubbing his hard cock against my pelvis. My clit is practically we eping. Dear God, save me. Between each count, I coax myself to hold on. My body is trembling like a leaf from the herculean effort it takes not to dissolve all over this man’s mighty cock. Slap. “Nineteen.” One more. Finally. I wait, but nothing happens. I turn my head to see what’s holding him back. He’s grinning at me. “You’re playing me,” I say. “I’m playing with you. Big difference.” “What more do you want from me? I did everything you asked. I want to come. I have to come. I need to come. Please let me come.” I don’t even recognize the woman begging for sexual release. “I wanted to make sure you were still with me.” I open my mouth to beg some more, when his hand comes down on my ass like thunder. Slap. “Twenty.” I exhale. Thank you, God. “Don’t come yet.” What? “No, no, no.” “Yes, yes, yes.” He has no problem torturing me. “You’re a tyrant. You said twenty. That was twenty.” “I did.” I’m bewildered as he lowers his head and bites my ass. I yelp, pleasure coursing through me like a raging river. My other cheek receives the same treatment. Then, he kisses my cheeks all over. The sensation is sublime. “Oh dear almighty God.” The words fall out of my mouth, as my head tilts back, relishing his lewd actions. Just when I think Beckett can’t shock me more, he does. He spreads my ass cheeks open, sticks two fingers de ep inside my dripping pussy, scoops my juices, and brings his hand coated with my slickness to his mouth. He slides his fingers into his mouth and sucks. There are no words to describe the veil of lust coating his blue eyes. And that lewd sound... Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come. He must read my mind because in a blink of an eye, his hand travels between my pussy lips until his fingers skate over my clit. Round and round he goes. “You’re going to give me what I want?” “I’ll give you anything.” I inhale a breath. “Everything.” “Be careful. I might take you up on your offer,” he says. “Are you going to come hard for me?” “I am.” “I’m not convinced.” “I’m going to come so hard. So, so hard.” “Show me you’re a good girl.” He squeezes two fingers around my clit, trapping all the blood there and I go off like a rocket. “Beckett. Oh, God. Beckett. Becket—”