Ryan pulls in to the underground car park of a block of apartments in the good end of town. Inside, the building is expensively carpeted, beautifully furnished and well decorated."I chose a place with a view over the park," he comments as he turns the key and then holds out his hand to let me in first.The apartment is only half furnished, with cardboard boxes stacked in one corner."Sorry about the state of the place," he says. "I'm only half moved in yet. Wine?"Already trembling, I struggle to keep my voice steady, but he's not fooled, watching me through lidded eyes as I respond. "Thank you. Yes." Ryan has a bottle and glasses waiting. Pouring two ruby glasses, he passes one to me. "I would offer you something to eat first," he says, "but since it's not food that you're hungry for right now, I think we'll leave the dining until later."Lost for words, suddenly bashful, I look up at him and then away again.He chuckles, soft and low. "Just because I didn't react in t
I hesitate at Ryan's choice of words...'Mine'?Am I his?I think I am...He waits, saying nothing.Waiting for my reaction?Yes, I think so.Biting my lower lip, I cup my breasts in my hands, lifting them, thumbing my nipples, pressing them together to exhibit my cleavage.His eyes follow my movements. He's keeping his cool, but I think I see the press of his erection showing. As I circle the darker halos of the areolae, the skin crinkles tighter and his pupils, widening, turn his already shadowed eyes all but black."Enough," he says. My hands freeze in mid-movement.His eyes lock with mine, then indicate down."You want me to...?""Show me."I slip fingers into the top of my panties, his eyes tracking the movement. "Take them off," he says. "I want to see you; all of you."In truth, I am only too happy to take them off. My pussy is running hot, streaming and my panties are hideously uncomfortable. I strip them away to reveal my dark curls, glistening wet.
Afterwards, as we lie together, naked in the half-light, he says, "I have something for you if you will accept it."He seems a little uncertain as he produces a small satin bag from a side-drawer, the kind that usually contains jewellery. I open it to find a narrow, black velvet choker, with a dewdrop pearl suspended."Will you accept it?" he asks, a trace of anxiety in his voice. "Will you wear it?"Am I being collared?I think I am...I finger it, rolling the pearl in my fingers; so small and delicate a thing, and yet, so laden with significance."You understand what you are asking of me?" I say. "When you give me something like this? When you ask me to wear it?""Yes, I understand," he says. "And yes, I am asking that you wear it for me. Will you do that?"His voice brims with hope and worry; desire and unease. "Am I asking too much of you? Or too quickly?"The pearl, opalescent with pale, swirling, beautiful colours, sits between my fingers.Is this too soon?
Ben is red, almost purple-faced, raging incoherently at Charlotte. He's standing close, really close; well within the personal space that most people carry around with them. And his body language... Is he going to hit her?It really does look as though it's turning violent. I stab at the con again. "Security. Speed it up to the lobby, please. You're needed here pronto."The elevator doors open: it's James, looking angrier than I've seen him. I simply point outside to where the row between Ben and Charlotte has reached Def Con One. His fists are balled as he strides out.Outside, Ben, although not a particularly tall man, is looking over Charlotte, almost looming over her. Everything about him screams violence.He shoves at her, a palm flat on her chest...He is going to hit her...Charlotte's fist swings, catching him square in the face, and blood spurts. Ben roars outrage, and at that moment, two security men burst into the lobby."Outside!" I yell, following them to
As he leaves, James calls after him, "No more second chances, Ben."Ben doesn't turn or acknowledge the words, but I see his scowl as he crosses the street.Michael turns to Charlotte, pulls her into his arms. "I don't know what he said to you, but I do not want a divorce."Now that the crisis has passed, Charlotte crumples. Her face pressed against his chest, she nods, tears in her voice. "I know.""Come on. Let's get you inside.""Can I get you a coffee or something?" I ask.Michael nods gratefully. "That'd be great, Kirstie. Thanks."I show the three into the small conference room which is vacant for the afternoon. When I bring in the coffee tray, James passes me a note. "Can you call that number, please, Kirstie. Ask for Sam Callaghan and tell him that Charlotte won't be on-site this afternoon. I'll be in touch with him about it tomorrow.""Of course, Mr Alexanders.""And apart from returning your belongings to you, if you see any sign of Ben Summerford near this
In my apartment, as I hover between two different outfits, I hear the ping of a phone message, but not from my own mobile.After a few moments, there is the sound of cursing from the lounge. Sticking my head around the door, "Problem?" I ask.Ryan, looking thoroughly annoyed, says, "I'm sorry. I've been called away. There's something that needs dealing with...""Always on call when you work for yourself?"He grimaces. "Yes, that's the downside. Lots of freedom, but lots of responsibility too." He pauses, thinking. "Look, this shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours. Why don't you get yourself ready anyway, and I'll meet you at this club of yours?""Sounds great.""Good." He takes my hand, squeezing the fingers. "Text me the address and I'll see you there.""Sure. I'll tell them at the door to expect you and that you're with me. They only let in so many single men and if they think you're by yourself, you might not get in."*****At the Club, waiting for Ryan, I
Michael chuckles. "You and me both. Charlotte and James aren't keen either." Charlotte nods agreement.Marcie angles over towards us, her eyes fixed on Michael. His falls falls. "Oh... God..." he murmurs."Looks like she's still interested in you..." chuckles Charlotte."Mmmm..." His tone is wry."Hello, Michael. I've not seen you around here for a while." Marcie's over-made face radiates fake friendship, fake sincerity, fake everything.She'd look so much better if she toned down the makeup a bit... just tried to be a bit more genuine...... mutton dressed as lamb...Michael's smile is polite but distinctly unwelcoming. Nope, they don't like her either...Can't argue with their taste in people..."No, I've not been here for a while. I got married a few months ago." He holds up his left hand, displaying his ring.Her jaw falls slack, then she looks at Charlotte, venom in her eyes."Married? Really?" she almost hisses. She looks sideways towards Steve, then visi
"Hello, Mr Alexanders...""Kirstie, we discussed this before. We're not at work now. It's James...""Hello, James. Michael here was just telling me how you saved Charlotte's life..."His eyes roll sideways. "I thought we agreed not to advertise that..." he mutters.Michael's grin is unrepentant. "We agreed not to advertise it unnecessarily. Sometimes it is appropriate.""Like when?""Like when Marcie gets disparaging about my best friend and risks my wife punching her teeth out."James frowns. "Have I missed something?"I'm saved from answering. Ryan appears at the door. "He's here then?" says Michael."Sorry?""No woman smiles like that at the arrival of a random stranger." His words are calm, but his eyes are smiling.I blush.Oh, God. I just blew off your brother..."Kirstie, it's alright." He touches my hand; the briefest of glancing touches. "Ben's a good man, even if it doesn't look that way to you right now. But he's not the right man for you."The
The cursor whirls across the screen, capturing imagery, clicking as it goes.Ye gods, but James knows what he's doing...Then I smile wryly to myself. You don't get to be Technical Director of a multi-billion corporation by being incompetent.Like he said... there's a reason he has the job...So, what now?*****"Could we stay in tonight? Just you and me? Get takeaway food perhaps?""Sounds good," murmurs Ryan. "I'd like to have you all to myself."He holds me in his arms and we dance to the lovely music washing through the air.As we sway around the room, my face pressed close to his chest, I inhale the sweet perfume of my... my what? My Master? My Dom certainly. My Lover too?The moment feels trapped in time, one of those endless moments where precious seconds are captured and preserved, held forever in the heart.Does he feel it too?He kisses my cheek, then my forehead. "Kirstie...""Mmmm...?" "I know you love the excitement and the thrill... and so
James raises his brows. "My apologies, Kirstie. I meant no offence. Of course, you buy what you can afford. But in this case, given the excellent work you did this morning, I want you to have the equipment to match the job. I assume you have no objection to a phone upgrade?""Er, no..."???"I didn't think so. I'll get something ordered for you with a decent camera and a lot more memory. I'd like to look at the laptop you're using too. What model is it?""Um, I've no idea. It's just what was being used on the desk when I started the job, to book visitors in and out.""Alright, I'll take a look at it when I'm passing through... Um, no, on second thoughts, it would look a bit odd for me to be sitting at the reception desk..." He stands, opens the door, calling out. "Francis, could you pop down to the lobby please and bring up Kirstie's laptop for me..."Five minutes later, there is a tap on the door: Francis, looking at me curiously, the lobby laptop in hand."Thanks, Franc
Haswell breaks in, speaking slowly, thoughtfully. "It is worth pointing out that James' 'eternal gratitude' could be worth quite a lot to Kirstie. He's in a position to do her a lot of favours. And you..." He nods down at the documents, lying ignored by Ryan's hand."I don't give a fuck about James' favours," spits Ryan. "What is this? Some kind of conspiracy? If you think I'm going to be bribed into allowing you to endanger her..."James holds up a hand, interrupting him. "Ryan, I would say exactly the same were our positions reversed. I give you my word that I am not getting Kirstie involved. I am simply asking that she does exactly what she is already doing as a normal part of her job; watching the comings and goings of the Haswell Offices. The only addition is that I have requested that she reports directly to me."Ryan stares at the floor, arms folded. "And what does that involve? This 'reporting'?""She simply hits a button under the counter of her desk, and it sends an a
Richard Haswell is not aggressive or pompous with it though. In my experience, men who behave like that are invariably wannabe Alphas. Haswell carries himself like a lord, with an easy authority that cuts the air. He wears wealth and power like a mantle, unconsciously and taking the two entirely for granted. His manner is courteous and natural.If you can walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch...James waves me forward. "Richard, this is Kirstie Jamieson, who recently started as concierge in the main building reception. I was telling you about her the other day if you recall... and this is her..." he pauses, ever so briefly, "... partner, Ryan Dougherty, who I invited here today to discuss a possible tender in which he may be interested. Kirstie, Ryan, this is Richard Haswell, CEO of the Haswell corporation, and his wife Elizabeth.""Nice to meet you Mr Haswell, Mrs Haswell..." I hold out my hand to shake, as does Ryan, but as I set eyes on Elizabeth Haswell, I double-take b
He continues to ease in, gradually in and out, his thick shaft inside me."Redbreast, Ryan. Redbreast!"He pauses, withdraws. "Really? You really want me to stop?""Yes.""Why? Am I hurting you?""No," I confess."So, I'm not hurting you, and I don't believe that you are not enjoying this. You like what I do to you. So, my only answer is that you are getting cold feet. I thought you had more nerve than this, Kirstie."A woman who bottles out at her first test is no good to me. You asked me to dominate you. And now, when I do, you argue and tell me to stop. You brought me into this, Kirstie, and I find that I have acquired a taste for Domination. And I want you to submit to me and to enjoy doing it. So... are you going to submit? Or, are you standing by your safe word?" There is contempt and... disappointment in his voice.I lie, panting, trembling from my own disquiet, and the vibe working inside me. My body aches for orgasm...... I don't answer."Very well then,"
And with that, his hand pushes in and up, and through my mouthful of food, I suppress a squeal as fingers plunge deep, rubbing at my g-spot.All but disabled by the earthquake in my flesh, I judder against the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric fingers, struggling to swallow long strands of spaghetti."That's it. Enjoy your food, but I want you good and expectant for later when I get my cock inside you."It's not going to take too long. My already swollen pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging through to my clit. My hips quake and jerk and he smiles edge-ways at me.He leans in close to me again, working my inner muscles all the while "You're still not coming yet. But this is your last appetiser. You get the main course soon."And with that, he pulls free, wiping his hand on the immaculate white linen napkin.He dabs at his mouth with the napkin, talking behind it. "You're drenched, Kirstie. Wonderful. How'
"Open up," he murmurs.I swallow, looking around, but the sea of faces is aimed squarely at the stage. "Are you going to do as you're told?" he says, not looking at me at all, his attention apparently on the stage."Here?""Yes, here. Open up."Easing my thighs apart, despite my nerves, my pussy glows, growing loose and moist. His hand covered by my cardigan, Ryan's fingers glide up and in, sliding inside my panties, weaving through warm, damp curls and further.His eyes still looking straight ahead, "Yes, gratifyingly wet there. Good girl. That's how I want you." A finger advances further, probing my pussy lips, skimming my clit. Struggling to keep my gasping silent, juddering as I struggle for self-control; in my peripheral vision, Ryan is suppressing a smile as he makes relentless spirals of my hardening nub.His voice is low but distinct. "I'd finger-fuck you, but I think the movement would show, so for now, I'll settle for this...""Ryan...""Shhh... You'll d
James pauses, letting that sink in.Weighing up my reaction?"But..." I stammer. "But everyone thought that was a terrorist attack or an attempt at ransom. That's what the news reports said."He arches his brows. "The full details of that... incident... were not released to the news agencies, and I think that people who commit such acts could be called terrorists, don't you?"I drain my cup and sit, staring at the dregs. James takes the cup from my hand, refills it and pushes it back into my hand.Sipping my coffee again, "So, the people you are watching for are dangerous then?""Oh, yes, very dangerous." He leans forwards, touches my hand, "Don't misunderstand, Kirstie. I am not asking you to get involved. I wouldn't do that. It would be grossly unfair of me. But since you are doing the job you are anyway, I thought I'd speak with you; sound you out."What's this all about?"Why would anyone want to hurt Charlotte? She's such a nice person, at least when people aren't
"Really?""Yes, really. I liked the way you dealt the situation out on the street the other day, and Ben in the downstairs lobby; even, dare I say it, the situation when Ben dragged you to our home, although I'll admit, that's with the benefit of hindsight."I flush. "You didn't seem very impressed at the time."He rolls his eyes ceiling-ward. "Yes, I've never apologised for that, have I...""I don't think you have a lot to apologise for, Sir. I feel terrible about it...""Well, get over it. It's in the past. I want to talk about where we go from here. It seems to me that you handle yourself rather well in awkward situations and that being the case, I have a favour to ask of you."What's he talking about?"Right... what is this favour?"Perhaps I look suspicious. For a moment, he meets my eyes, his gaze level, expressionless; then he says, "Don't misunderstand my motives, Kirstie. I'm not about to go dipping my nib in the office ink. It would be horribly unprofessional