Chapter 14

Morgan

I crawled under his desk.

His gaze flicked down to mine as I sat back and sucked in a breath, my sore ass brushing against my heels. He cocked his head as I maneuvered between his legs and pressed my hands to the tops of his thighs.

Without asking, I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his slacks, slid the zipper down and freed his cock.

It was rock hard.

For me.

He didn't say a word to stop me either as I leaned forward and blew a breath of air across the head of his cock.

If he wasn't going to give it to me, I was going to take it for myself.

Feeling bold, I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around his dick. It was extremely satisfying to hear him gasp the moment my tongue contacted the soft velvet of his shaft. The continued clacking of his keyboard indicated that he was sending an email or doing something workwise, and it suddenly became really important to me to distract him.

I swirled my tongue around the tip, just glancing across his skin as I teased him. Feeling bolder, I took the entire head into my mouth and suckled gently, eliciting the most delicious groan from him. When I swirled my tongue around the head, he groaned and sat back. With a hum of victory, I opened my mouth wider and took several inches of his cock inside my mouth, all the way until the head of his cock brushed against the back of my throat.

"You're playing with fire, naughty girl," he purred, but I didn't care.

I wasn't afraid to get burned.

My pussy was throbbing so hard it felt like a drum. I felt so needy. He wasn't going to spank me, tease me, and not make me come before I left this office, not if he didn't want me to tease him right back.

I taunted him right to the edge, listening to the sounds he made as I pushed him further and further. When he was really close, I pulled back and suckled him far more gently, eliciting an impatient groan from him, which made me smirk with amusement.

"I know what you're doing, my needy little slut. You want to earn my cock, don't you?"

I did. Very much.

Wanting to push him further, I swallowed as much of his cock as I could, at least until I started to choke, and then I pulled back a bit. I suckled around his thick length. When he reached for my head, I leaned out of his reach, and he growled with warning.

"Clearly, I didn't spank you hard enough," he muttered, and I grinned. My ass was sore, but he was right.

Maybe he didn't.

His thighs opened a bit wider, and my hands grasped at them as I bobbed my head back and forth.

"Next time, you're getting the belt," he murmured.

My pussy clenched tight at his words. I blushed as a droplet of arousal careened down my thigh, the cool rush of air in its wake shameful, and I squeezed his thighs, digging my fingers into his flesh as I swallowed even more of his cock than I thought myself capable of.

It hit the back of my throat, and then he reached for me again, grasping my hair gently as he groaned.

"Fuck, yes, my needy little slut. Swallow every inch of my cock like a good girl," he dictated.

Not ready to let him come just yet, I played with his cock, toying with him a bit more before I finally started to seriously suck his thick length. Breathing through my nose, I pushed past my gag reflex several times, my eyes tearing up the more I went on.

Soon enough, tears were leaking from the corners of my eyes, and I started working faster. My cheeks gradually grew sore, and my lips ached, but I paid neither any mind because I was too caught up with the throbbing between my thighs and the sounds he was making as he approached orgasm.

His groans sent a rolling shiver down my spine. His stuttered breaths sent my head in a tailspin, and I wanted nothing more than for him to come.

I suckled harder, took him even deeper, and then he came with a roar. His seed spurted into my mouth, and I took everything he gave me and more. I swallowed every drop of his come until there wasn't anything left, and then I leaned back on my heels and licked all the way from the base of his shaft to the tip, making sure to thoroughly clean him off.

The taste of him was just a bit salty, but mostly sweet.

When I was done, I sat back and leveled him with a look.

"Do you need something, my little slut?"

"Yes, sir," I whined.

"Tell me what you need," he demanded.

"I need to come," I whispered, the words too shameful to be said with any volume at all.

His dark eyes stayed on mine. His irises were stormy, like waves of an ocean breaking against a rocky shore in the middle of a hurricane. I shifted on my heels, my bare pussy pulsing in the open air, my panties tangled around my knees.

Then he pushed his chair back and offered me a hand.

It felt dangerous to take it. I glanced at his hand and then back at him before I finally braved it and placed my fingers within his.

He pulled me up gently, ensuring that my head didn't hit the top of his desk, but as soon as I was standing, he yanked me towards him, took a seat in his chair, and tossed me facedown over his knee.

I yelped when the flat of his hand slapped both sides of my bare bottom several times, stingingly hard, before his fingers dove in between my thighs.

There was no hiding my arousal then.

"Such a needy little whore, so sopping wet like this," he observed out loud, and heat rushed to my cheeks. Balanced over his knee, I had no choice but to reach out with my fingers on the floor, leaving me with no recourse or way to defend myself.

His fingers toyed with my clit, and then he started to tease me exactly as I had done to him. Desire pooled in my core, swirling as my abs tensed and my thighs quivered with sensation. He varied the pressure, taunting me by lightly brushing over my clit and interspersing that with firmer touches that left my head spinning and my body molten.

He forced me to the edge of orgasm, and just as I was about to lose control, he removed his touch entirely.

I squealed with frustration, the cut of denial far more painful than I thought it could ever be.

Then he did it again.

And again.

And again, until I was begging him for mercy, and then he edged me some more.

I did everything I could think of. I apologized for teasing him. I pleaded with him that I couldn't take anymore, and then when it soon became too much, I thought I was going to cry.

"Please, sir. Please have mercy," I begged, and he lightly pressed his fingertips against my clit, just enough to push me to the precipice but not quite over it.

"If you want to come for me, my needy little slut, then you're going to have to agree to something very important tonight," he began.

My head whirled. I didn't know what he could possibly want. Honestly, I would have promised my first-born child and my left kidney for whatever he was going to make me agree to just to come.

"Sir?"

"Tonight, you're going to come home with me," he said simply, and I started, not expecting such a thing. I thought he was going to make me promise to suck his cock or to do something in exchange for some sexual favor.

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I closed it. I wasn't certain if he wanted me to come home with him simply because he didn't like my small apartment, but I was proud of it. It was the only thing I could afford when I moved out to Seattle, and I was more than a little attached to it. Sure, it had its downsides, but at least it was mine.

Plus, there was the issue of my two cats. I'd have to go home to check on them.

His fingers never stopped moving over my clit, light and teasing and forever holding me on the edge.

I would agree now and deal with the particulars later. Maybe after we fucked, I would just slip out of his place and catch an uber home. I'd figure it out when the time came.

Now though, I needed to come. Badly.

"Yes, sir," I breathed.

"Good girl. Now come hard for me," he demanded, and his fingers pressed just a little harder on my clit. My desire soared up into the clouds, and then I was falling.

Wildfire seared through my veins. Burning desire rolled from the tips of my toes to the ends of my fingers as every nerve in my body fired at once, and then my mouth opened and I started to scream. My eyes rolled back in my head as my vision went white, blinding hot ecstasy tearing through every inch of me in rolling waves.

My climax ripped through me so strongly that I thought I was going to shatter apart into a billion shards of broken glass.

By the time my orgasm finally quelled, I slumped over his knee, my bottom bare and on display, and I could think of nothing but the quivering aftershocks of pleasure that kept making my body quake.

"Such a good fucking girl," he purred, and his praise made my heart light up when it most definitely shouldn't.

I tried not to think too hard about it.

Gently, he lifted me up and tucked me in his lap. With my heart still pounding, I rested my head against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat comforted me as the scent of his cologne surrounded me. This time it was a subtle blend, hints of cedarwood and a touch of spicy cardamom mingling with softer undertones of amber and a faint, crisp hint of citrus. I breathed in deep, enjoying every delicious note that was him.

In his embrace, the world outside—with all its complications and expectations—seemed to momentarily stand still.

When my heartbeat finally returned to normal, I shifted in his lap and lifted my head to find him watching me closely.

"Come now, Miss Davis. I think it's time I took you home," he said softly, and I bit the inside of my cheek.

If I went home with him, what would other people think? Not good things, that much I knew. Maybe they would assume I'd gotten this job by sleeping with my boss, that none of my talent meant a thing, and that I was just some whore. Or worse, maybe us sleeping together would make it onto the news, and that would ruin everything I was trying to do for his company and mine by enveloping it in scandal.

I couldn't live with that.

He didn't know it yet, but I wasn't going to go home with him. I was going to demand he take me home where I belonged.

* * *

By the time we reached his car downstairs, I was readying myself for an argument. I knew he wasn't going to let me go home without a fight, but I knew it was for the best.

"I can just take the light rail," I finally began, and he leveled me with a dark look.

"It's late, little one," he warned.

"You don't have to take me. I can find my own way home. I've done it a thousand times," I protested.

His expression hardened slightly, a hint of concern in his eyes. "It's not safe to take the light rail at this hour, Morgan. Seattle's late-night crime rates aren't exactly low. It's fortunate nothing has happened to you yet, but I'm not willing to take that risk."

"But, Hunter, it's not right. If we're seen together outside of work, it could look bad for both of our companies. People might talk," I protested.

I opened my mouth to continue arguing, but his look silenced me for a moment.

"You're not going home, Miss Davis. That's already settled," he replied, his tone deadly serious.

His words caught me off guard, and I felt a twinge of apprehension mixed with an undeniable thrill.

"I can't go home with you. What if someone finds out?" I objected, and he narrowed his eyes in a way that made my backside tense nervously.

"Morgan, I understand your concerns, but believe me, discretion is my priority. I have no intention of jeopardizing either of our reputations," he said, his voice conveying a seriousness that sent a nervous tension through me.

"But, Hunter," I continued, the reality of the situation pressing upon me, "think about it. If we're seen together, especially at this hour, it could lead to rumors. Rumors that could harm your company's image and mine. We've both worked too hard to let that happen."

He listened intently, his gaze never leaving mine. "I know the risks," he acknowledged. "But we can be careful. I have a private entrance at my place. No one will see you."

I shook my head, my heart racing with a mix of fear and desire. "It's not just about being seen, Hunter. It's about the principle. We have a professional relationship. Blurring these lines… it's risky. It could lead to complications, misunderstandings…"

"None of that matters to me, Miss Davis. Get in the car. Now," he demanded, his eyes darkening with warning.

"But, Hunter…"

"Am I going to need to take off my belt, Morgan?" he asked, and I bit my lip, drawing it between my teeth as I shook my head nervously.

"I can just go home—" I tried one last time, but the darkness in his eyes turned to shadow. Gently, he grasped the back of my neck and pulled me in towards him roughly enough to make me gasp out loud.

"Let me tell you how this is going to go, little girl. I'm going to take you home. When we get to my place, I'm going to take off your pretty dress and those slutty lacey panties. Then I'm going to bend you over my bed and fuck your little bottom as punishment for fighting me," he threatened, and my heart almost dropped straight down into the pit of my stomach.

"I've never…" I protested. Even as the words left my mouth though, my body heated, and my pussy clenched hard.

Why did that arouse me?

"I'm going to take great pleasure in being the first. Now that's not going to be up to you, is it?" he said, raising a single eyebrow as he waited for me to protest.

He wasn't asking if I wanted him to fuck my ass.

It was something that was simply going to happen. What I did have a choice about, however, was how sore my ass was going to be first.

"No, sir," I pouted a little.

"Good girl. Now get in the car and behave, or else I'll take you over my knee and give you a real spanking in the car," he demanded, and I sucked in a breath.

A real spanking? What did he mean? Did the one in his office not count? It had certainly stung, but I wouldn't have called it a punishment by any means, and before I knew what I was doing, I was echoing his words out loud.

"A real spanking?" I whispered, my voice hardly audible as his mouth turned up with a smirk.

"Yes, naughty girl. What happened over my desk was simply a taste. A real spanking would sting far more and leave your gorgeous ass bright, bright red. You know, there might even be pretty little tears dripping down your cheeks by the time I'm through with you," he replied.

I shivered at his words.

"I understand, sir," I breathed.

"Now, will you need a spanking in the car, or will you get inside like a good girl?" he asked.

"I'll be a good girl," I whimpered.

"Good," he replied. Expectantly, he opened the door to the back seat, and I climbed inside. He slid in beside me and closed the door behind him before he wound his arm around my waist and pulled me close.

I squirmed a little bit on the leather seat, my ass still slightly sore from the spanking with his hand, but my mind was thoroughly stuck on the fact that he'd threatened to fuck my ass.

I wanted to hate the idea.

I should be angry at his audacity, that he was going to fuck my ass simply because he could and that I didn't have a say about it, but instead, my curiosity was getting the best of me. Would it hurt? Would I like it? Was it wrong to think I might?

I shouldn't want to find out what that felt like.

My body and my head were at odds.

"What are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning in your head," he said gently with a soft, devastatingly sweet kiss to the side of my head. I blushed at the same time that butterflies fluttered within my heart.

"I—" I began, but my words died off, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him what I was really thinking, so eventually I managed to lie. "Just wondering what your place is going to be like."

He smiled and his eyes twinkled, like he knew I was lying, but he didn't say anything to call me out. Instead, he kissed the side of my head again and pulled me even closer against him. For a moment, his body heat was soothing, and I allowed myself to focus on that other than the fact that I was going to get my ass fucked tonight for the very first time in my life.

"It's not far. You'll see when we get there. I'd hate to ruin the surprise," he whispered.

To his credit, he was right. Within five minutes, the driver was pulling up to a sky rise building nestled in the heart of downtown. I recognized it as the Olympus Tower. The glass windows reflected the city lights beautifully. When the car came to a stop, he exited first and offered me a hand like the perfect gentleman.

Then he led me towards a private entrance, separate from the main lobby frequented by residents and their guests. This entrance exuded an air of exclusivity, with its sleek design and subtle lighting. It was clear that not many had access to this part of the building.

Inside, we were greeted by a lobby that was equally impressive, yet more intimate than the main entrance. The decor was modern and tasteful, with art pieces that looked like they belonged in an exquisite gallery. The ambiance was quiet and private, and I found myself feeling more and more comfortable by the moment.

Hunter guided me to a private elevator, which required a key code for operation. As he punched in the code, I couldn't help but be impressed by the level of security and exclusivity.

The elevator doors opened directly into the penthouse suite, revealing a breathtaking view of the Seattle skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. The panoramic view of the city was mesmerizing, the twinkling lights against the night sky almost magical.

"It's incredible," I replied, genuinely impressed. The furnishings in the entryway and the living room were chic yet inviting, blending seamlessly with the sleek design.

He led me to the kitchen, a showcase of high-end appliances and polished black granite countertops.

"I don't cook as much as I'd like," he admitted with a chuckle.

"I can imagine it's hard to find the time," I said.

The master suite was the epitome of tranquility, complete with a luxurious en-suite bathroom and a private balcony.

"It's like a sanctuary," I commented, taking in the plush bedding and the breathtaking view from the balcony.

"There's also a home gym, and a theatre," he added.

"Your home is beautiful," I said, our eyes locking.

He stepped closer, the proximity sending a jolt through me. "I'm glad you like it because this is where you're going to be staying from now on," he replied, his voice low.

"I'm not sure staying here is—" I began, but my words were cut short.

Before I could finish, Hunter closed the remaining distance between us, his intent clear in his gaze. In a swift, fluid motion, he leaned in and captured my lips with his in a sweet, sultry kiss. The world seemed to stand still as his lips moved against mine, tender yet assertive, and utterly enthralling.

Caught off guard but unable to resist, I found myself responding to his kiss, swept up in the intensity of the moment. The rational part of my brain faded into the background, overshadowed by the overwhelming sensation of being pulled closer into his world, not for forever, but at least for tonight.

When he finally broke off the kiss, he carefully spun me around and unzipped my dress. He didn't ask and I didn't protest as he pushed it down off my shoulders and then past my hips until it fell to the floor.

There was no hesitation as he deftly unsnapped my bra and took that off too. I gasped, reaching up to cover my breasts, but he simply used the opportunity to pull my panties down too. They dropped to the floor with the rest of my clothing, and then I was standing there fully naked before I even knew what was happening.

It was kind of hot, and I found myself simmering with desire. Then, with no pomp or circumstance, he lifted me right up off the floor, carried me over to the bed and bent me over it.

Remembering his threat, I pushed up against the bed, my anxiety suddenly overwhelming my arousal, and his hand pressed down in the middle of my back, effectively pinning me in place. I struggled for a few moments, but eventually I settled down.

"What did I tell you was going to happen when we came home, Miss Davis?" he asked, the insinuation in his tone heavy and heated. I shifted against the bed, feeling fully exposed as I clenched my bottom cheeks, hoping to hide what was in between them so he couldn't see.

I hid my face in the covers, wanting to conceal my shameful curiosity. I didn't answer right away, which simply earned me two very hard slaps to the ass.

I yelped, the sting almost more than I could bear. He definitely hadn't spanked me quite that hard before, and as the pain burned red hot, his threats of a real spanking quickly spiraled into my thoughts, and I couldn't get them out.

"Tell me, little one, before I decide to fuck your bottom using your own arousal as lube," he threatened, and I gasped.

There was no doubt in my mind that would hurt more, and I quieted a whimper at his threat.

"You said you were going to fuck my ass, sir," I whispered, feeling smaller and more vulnerable with every single syllable.

"That's right, my needy little slut. Is that why this pussy is so wet? Have you been thinking about my cock sinking into your tight virgin hole?" he rasped, and I covered my face with my hands, too embarrassed to confirm that he was exactly right.

"How did you know?" I rasped.

His hands brushed against my ass, taking hold and spreading me apart to put me on vulgar display. My bottom hole clenched tight, almost as if it could hide if it did so, even though I knew it was hopeless. He could see everything.

"Hold your cheeks apart while I fetch the lubricant," he dictated, and I wailed as I uncovered my face and slowly reached back. Tentatively, I took a hold of each cheek and did as he told me to, almost without thought, but I couldn't keep my nervous anxiety at bay. My fingers trembled, and I spread myself only a little.

"Wider," he commanded, and my face blazed with heat. Very reluctantly, I did as he bade me, spreading myself as wide as I dared while he stood behind me and looked.

I could feel the heavy weight of his stare, and my core clenched tight, knowing he was looking. Without meaning to, I arched my back a little bit and almost cried out when a droplet of arousal rolled down my thigh, but somehow, I managed to keep quiet.

"Good girl," he praised, and I hid my face in the blankets as he walked around the bed. I heard him open a drawer, but I didn't look. Then he strode back to stand behind me.

The sound of a bottle cap opening made me jump. I expected him to just squirt it onto my asshole, but he didn't. Instead, the warmth of his lubed fingers brushed against me there, and I nearly jumped off the bed.

He circled my tight rim, slowly but surely, and I wanted a black hole to open up beneath me and swallow me whole.

I hated that it actually felt good.

I hated that it made my clit throb with need.

I hated that I kind of wanted to find out what a fucking like this felt like.

I didn't have to wait long.

Gently, he pushed one single lube-covered finger past my tight rim of muscle, and I cried out, pain instantly clouding my vision. A deep, burning stretch burst up and down my spine. The sharp pressure was almost more than I could bear for a single instant. As he slowly pushed inside with that single finger and then pulled it out, the pain began to fade.

Then it gradually started to feel really good.

Pleasure roiled through me as he pumped that digit in and out, and before I knew what I was doing, I was arching my back and lifting my hips like I was seeking it out.

Then he added a second finger, and the pain started all over again, but now that I knew the pleasure would eventually follow, it all seemed easier to take. Spirals of desire took over my every waking thought. My toes curled and my fingers dug into my bottom cheeks, spreading myself even wider.

"Hands on the bed, my needy little whore," he demanded, and I let go, only to press my fingers back into the soft quilt.

His fingers still pumped in and out of my ass, and my inner walls nearly spasmed.

Could I come this way? Was that even possible?

I didn't know, but I kind of wanted to find out.

"This hole is so very tight. I'm going to need to stretch it wider if it's going to take my cock," he murmured, and then he slipped a third one inside, and the pressure escalated so much that I yelped. My asshole clenched around his fingers, trying to push him out as the pain intensified for several long moments, but he didn't relent.

Instead, he just kept pumping those three digits into me, and just like before, the ache eventually lessened, and pleasure soon followed. My pussy tightened and I keened, trying to take the fingering gracefully even as my legs quivered uncontrollably.

Knock. Knock.

An angry, loud pounding on the door made us both jump, and he stilled, his fingers still knuckle deep in my ass. The authoritative knocking continued, and he sighed, slowly pulling them free.

"Get dressed, Morgan. We'll continue this later," he dictated, and I pulled in a shaky breath.

"Yes sir," I whimpered.

"Such a good girl," he praised, and he disappeared into the bathroom, where I heard the faucet turn on. For a second, I lay there a little in shock, before I pushed up off the bed and numbly gathered my clothes.

I'd just got my bottom fingered for the first time, and I'd enjoyed it. If he'd continued and really gotten into it, I was fairly certain that I could actually come that way.

It was ridiculous to even think about it, but I couldn't lie to myself.

I slipped my panties on first, then my bra, and eventually my dress. I stood up and hummed a little in embarrassment when I realized that I could still feel the lube between my cheeks, as well as the residual soreness from being stretched in such a foreign way.

Hunter emerged from the bathroom with an annoyed look on his face, and I hesitantly followed him. Peeking around the corner, I watched as he answered the door.

Standing in the hallway were two US Marshals. Both were dressed in dark, well-fitted suits that added an air of authority to their already imposing statures. One was taller, with a broad-shouldered build and a stern expression, his hair cropped short. His partner was slightly shorter, with a leaner body frame and sharp, observant eyes.

The taller marshal stepped forward. He reached inside his jacket and produced a badge, holding it up for Hunter to see. The badge was encased in a leather wallet, embossed with the official insignia of the United States Marshals Service.

"Mr. Hunter Blackwater?" the taller marshal asked in a firm, no-nonsense tone.

"That's me," Hunter replied, his voice steady but cautious. "What can I do for you, officers?"

The shorter marshal, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. "We need to speak with you on a matter of urgency, Mr. Blackwater. It's in your best interest to cooperate."

"Do you know the whereabouts of your uncle?" the taller one asked, and I stepped out from behind the corner.

"My uncle?" Hunter asked.

"Yes, sir. Your uncle, Vincent Blackwater."