5

Pov Fernando.

I had sent the French woman to look for the printed archives of her years of work, because I thought her audacity was very disrespectful, although I confess that I was more bothered by the fact that she doesn't know me, who doesn't know me? I mean, it's not that I'm the president of the United States, but my last name is recognized in many countries, and as the manager of the company I'm going to inherit, and as an employee of my family, she should know her bosses, right?

I walk into the office and look around me. This office has been closed, and it only opens when Fernanda or my father came to do inspection, but after they hired Samantha, they haven't followed up.

"Can you have this furniture changed, please, something more elegant, and you can have some pictures on this wall," I begin to give directions to my secretary, since the décor of my new office is not usual for me.

Everything is a sad brown color, and I love the color black, combined with crimson, I feel that lust and desire go hand in hand with evil, that's why those colors go perfectly.

My secretary begins to write down all my orders, and while I go down to greet all the staff of the company, he goes about his business.

I look at the time on my watch when I realize the time, and I smile to go look for my dear manager, since they surely have the files ready, although I don't plan to check them, I would like to see her again. I find her an attractive woman, besides her domineering character, I like her a bit. And with that, too, the curiosity that comes from realizing that I am indifferent to him.

"Do you have what I asked for?" I ask as I enter the office.

I stand still watching the woman in front of me crouched, totally with her buttocks facing me, and it's not that you can see anything, but that immediately my mind traveled to a scene with her like this, only without her having any clothes at all.

Number 12?

I smile adjusting my tie because of my demonic thoughts, and how could I not have them? This woman is beautiful, although I don't think she's good enough to be number 12, since she's totally moody, and not at all submissive.

Hell, what a pity! 

"Here's Fernando," he tries to hand me the folder, but I don't take it.

I walk past her, just as I see the secretary come out.

We're only French!

And it's not that I like harassing women, it's the fact that I love to see her angry, it's something that turns me on, and I don't know why.

I look at his office, feeling my eyes light up because of so much pink, really? This is horrible, light colors have never been my thing, and even less in a workplace for god's sake, is she a fifteen-year-old girl? 

"Since you left the folders that I searched for hours in my hands, and that, in addition, you enter my office, without knocking on the door, I'm going to make a couple of things clear to you," I turn around, putting my hands in my pants pocket.

Her face is red with annoyance, and it's no wonder, surely the poor thing had a hard time finding and putting those files together.

"I'd like you to call me boss, I suggest it sounds better, don't you think?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

For some reason, the Adam's apple that adorns my neck rises and falls as I look into his gray eyes, something in me catches fire, and I know what it is.

She protests, saying that she and my father have trust and a little more stuff that I don't hear because I'm imagining how delicious her mouth would look between my legs. Her pink lips, and thick there devouring my penis.

I approach her quickly, as if I have the utmost confidence, and say softly, as softly as I would like to devour her:

"Although I look a lot like my father, Miss Samantha, believe me, I'm not him, so from now on you'll call me, boss.

I can smell them, it's a delicious combination that I can't decipher, I imagine the mixture in them, and for the first time in my life, I want to kiss the folds of a woman.

She pulls away from me, and walks over to her coffee maker. I can see her serving her coffee calmly, although for some strange reason I feel like she's nervous, do you like me? Would she be able to be my submissive? Oh, how I'd love to propose it, but it's not the time yet.

"Boss," she says with a grimace, but I didn't pay attention to her, as she utters the words, I'm thinking about what the word, "master" would look like on her lips.

I clear-throat trying to control my impure thoughts, because my father is supposed to send me here to get away from my submissives, not knowing that here I found the perfect candidate to be number 12, but all that is erased from my mind when I hear her tell me to leave her office.

I smile at her words, because instead of bothering me, I like her for the simple fact that she would be a delicious rebellious submissive.

I turn around calmly after inhaling the smell of the place, to get into my work and not be wasting time looking at my manager's huge breasts, but before I leave I tell her how childish her office is (I like to disturb her).

"Is my office ready?" He asked my secretary.

"Yes, Mr. Fernando, it was in perfect condition," he explains.

I finish entering, and look at everything as I like it, black, crimson, paintings, smell of incense, perfection and a rewarding place to work.

Without wasting much time, I sit at my desk, digitally reviewing my manager's work.

...

"Sir, it's too late, can I go?" My secretary asks.

I look at the time on my watch, and realize how late it is; a quarter to seven.

"Yes, yes, of course, you can always leave at your usual time," I explain, closing the laptop.

He nods and leaves the place, and I stare at how incredible life is: the manager is a woman raised in an orphanage, a woman who was raised by nuns, and it's not that this is something out of this world, but that she exudes sexuality, sex, desire, and I can even swear that she's not a virgin.  What if it is? Most of these women don't have sex, or they're lesbians. I shake my head, and get ready to grab my things. First time in my life that I stay so late in the office, and more to check the data of an unknown person, but it is like this, if I want a submissive, I must know everything about her, what she likes, what she doesn't, where she comes from, her family, and everything that surrounds her. 

However, I pick up my phone to go out, when a smell fills my nostrils, and I can swear it's her, isn't she gone? I walk to the exit, and I can see her near my office. A mocking smile is drawn on my lips, because my arrogance rises. I see her nervously standing in the elevator, and I can't help but feel the urge to hit her out of the elevator, spread her legs and touch her pussy. And I need a sex.

I cling to her, filling my nostrils with her scent and I can feel nervousness in her body.

"I think in my other life I was a big bad wolf"

And I say this for the simple reason that I can deduce a woman's desire, the lust in her body, 

"Are you nervous?" I ask, feeling her tense up.

I can swear that she is, and that activates my predatory side, the one that knows that she wants something from me, and that I'm willing to give it to her, but I don't want her one night, I want her to be mine, to be my submissive, will she refuse? I don't know, but I have to try, I have to try to get her to give me her body, and her most desires, desires that I am willing to fulfill to the letter.

We enter the elevator, and I can imagine what it would be like to stick it to the cold wall, my mind wandering in impure thoughts, which are cut off by a text message: it's a message from Demetrio, he tells me that I should use bodyguards, and that he sent two trusted ones for me, not to leave without them. I smile because, although I can take care of myself, since I have a weapon to do so, my father will not stop protecting his children, and I understand that, I believe that, deep down, if someone touches my family, I would be able to kill them with my bare hands.

I put my phone away and look up to see her, sweat is running down her forehead, and reaching her breasts leaving them soaked. My member jumps like crazy in my pants, and I cover it with my hands

"Calm down, man," I say mentally.

She looks at me in bewilderment, asks why I'm strange, I point to her wet breasts, and I can see her face turn red with embarrassment.

"Here, clean yourself," I hurriedly tell him as I hand him my handkerchief.

I watch her carefully clean herself the moment the elevator opens. I leave quickly to leave, because I don't want him to notice my erection, although as I walk I realize what time it is. She's alone, something can happen to her, and I don't know why that worries me, but she does.

I turn around to tell her that I can go with her, but when I take her I can only ask for the handkerchief. Since when is Fernando Laureti fucking nervous.

She hands it to me, but I can see how dirty it is, so I tell her to wash it and keep it for me. It's an important scarf for me because it was given to me by Andrea on my twentieth birthday, and I tend to appreciate things, although I admit that it was a miserable thing on her part.

I get in my car, and as I watch her drive, I start following her. I don't know why I'm doing this, I don't understand why I'm worried about her well-being, but she does, and she does it a lot, and it's something that had never happened to me before, before her.