Chapter Five
Delilah
I’m at work with my headset on, fingertips grazing the keyboard. I’m dialed in, ready for a call, but it’s a slow day, and we haven’t gotten any calls in over an hour.
I glance up at the clock and realize the hour hand is moving backwards.
What the hell?
I stand from my chair, moving closer to the ticking clock, but the second I stand, I realize I’m not wearing any clothes. How did I leave for work and forget to put clothes on?
Spinning in a circle, I search for something to cover myself with, but suddenly the room is empty. No desks, no computers, no filing cabinets, no phones. It’s just me, standing in the center of a dark, empty space.
My heart pounds when I see him move from the shadows. He’s wearing pressed black slacks, a dark blue button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his gaze is on mine with some sort of feral look I’ve never seen in a man before. It’s wild and untamed, like his next move is about survival.
Beau’s arms slide beneath me with effortless strength, lifting me from the ground as though I weigh nothing.
My breath catches as my body presses against his, the heat between us undeniable.
The empty floor stretches ahead, gleaming under the low lights, but all I see is him, his gaze locked on mine, intense and unyielding.
Each step toward his office is deliberate, the silence around us amplifying the thrum of anticipation in my chest.
I’m not sure what’s happening but I’m aching for it.
He pushes open his office door and settles me on top of his desk before pulling a chair to the edge to look up at me. “You’ve been late updating your dispatch reports. Care to tell me why?” His tone is dark and commanding, intimidating even. He’s also wrong. I’m never late with anything.
“I’m not behind. I do the reports as soon as the call ends.” My shoulders roll back as I speak, proud of my work.
“That’s not what the computer is telling me.
” He turns the screen toward me, showing me some spreadsheet with red marks that I don’t recognize.
“You’re missing one.” He stands, the rough pads of his fingers tracing the edge of the desk as he circles me like prey.
“You know how important it is to get our reports out on time, Delilah. We have a very sensitive job. If we miss a deadline, we lose the trust of the people.”
“I know.” My heart pounds.
His voice is low, deliberate, each word laced with authority that coils around me. I can feel him behind me now, the heat of his body radiating as he leans in close, his breath grazing the tip of my ear.
“You’re usually so precise,” he murmurs, fingers brushing the edge of my shoulder, “so controlled. But today… you’re off your rhythm.”
I swallow hard, the air thick between us. The room feels smaller, the walls pressing in, the silence stretching taut like a wire ready to snap. I can’t tell if I want to run and demand he check the system again, or if I want to let him believe I didn’t do my work and see how far he’ll push.
He moves again slowly until he’s in front of me. His gaze pins me in place, dark and unreadable. “Tell me, Delilah. What is the correct punishment for an offense like this?”
My lips part, but no words come. The question hangs in the air, heavy and provocative, daring me to answer. His eyes don’t waver. They’re sharp and assessing, like he’s waiting to see whether I’ll flinch or rise to meet him.
“I… I don’t know,” I manage, though the tremor in my voice betrays me. I do know. I know exactly what he wants to hear, but I’m too nervous to say it.
He leans in, one hand braced on the desk, the other lifting to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. The touch is featherlight, but it sends a shiver down my spine.
“That’s not true,” he says quietly. “You know the rules. Your reports should be sent to me by the end of the day. So, I’ll ask you again.” He tilts his head to the side. “What punishment do you deserve?”
The room pulses with heat, the line between discipline and desire blurring with every breath. I meet his gaze, heart hammering, and whisper the only answer that feels right, “Whatever you decide.”
“Good girl,” he groans, sitting back in his chair, still staring at me. “Then I’d like to see you spread those thick thighs for me. I’ve been desperate to see that pretty, pink pussy for too damn long.”
A shot of energy rushes up through my spine and down again, and I’m pretty sure I’m soaking his desk.
Oh God! I’ve thought about this moment too many times. It’s been the fantasy I’ve retreated to when things were going to hell with Dave.
But how can this be real? I don’t think it is. I think I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming.
I spread my legs slowly, the sweltering heat of the office surrounding us.
Beau approaches. His rough, thick hand moves up the inside of my leg and he slides two fingers into me.
“Oh, my pretty, little girl… you’re soaking wet. You like this, don’t you?”
Why do I like my boss telling me what a ‘pretty, little girl’ I am? Why do I want to hear it again and again? Why do I want him to whisper it into my ear at group meetings, brush his hand against my ass in training sessions, and take me into the bathroom when we’re on our break?
I want to be his filthy little secret… so fucking bad!
I rock back and forth instinctively, my breasts swaying, my hair brushing against his desk, his forearm flexing as he presses in and out of my pussy.
“Have you ever had a man touch you like this before, Delilah?” He kisses my thighs, his breath warm as he narrows into my crease.
“No,” I pant, leaning back against his desk, paperwork cradling my head as he digs his rough hands up and under my thighs. He grips my ass with a growl and dives into my pussy, eating like a starving man.
My hips writhe upward in eagerness, scrubbing and grinding against his bearded face as I ride the edge of orgasm. “Oh God, I’m so close.”
He pulls me closer, suckling my clit as his beard tickles my lips and scratches every itch I didn’t know I had. “Not yet, sweetheart. You have to wait to come on my hard cock. I need to fuck you hard. Teach you a lesson.”
Oh God. His voice is so deep. Deep and rumbling. Deep and governing.
I’m not going to make it!
He knows and pulls his tongue from my clit, dragging it up my expanded stomach and toward my swollen breasts.
I’ve been insecure about them since I got pregnant.
They’re puffy and red, and lately they’ve been leaking fluid.
But before I can pull away, Beau is suckling my nipple with a groan as white fluid drips from his lips.
“Fuck. A little treat for me,” he growls, suckling harder, lapping up my breast milk as though he can’t get enough.
His hand slides between my legs and he rubs my clit as he sucks. I never would have imagined this could get me off, but holy fuck… it’s hot!
One glance at his pants and it’s clear to see he’s excited, too. It’s also clear how huge his cock is. Dear Lord, how is that thing ever going to fit inside of me? I’ll be in pain for days, weeks maybe.
“Edge of the desk,” he demands, milk still dripping from the corner of his mouth as he tugs me to the edge of his solid wood table.
I don’t remember his pants coming off, but they’ve fallen to the ground and suddenly he’s naked before me. The man is a sight! Tall and broad, covered in dark ink, biceps flexing, chest tight, and his maple eyes locked on mine.
I can feel my pussy twitch with anticipation. I want to be filled by him, touched by him, fucked by my boss until everyone in this office hears the filthy sounds we make as he worships my body.
He leans in, his hard cock poking my thigh as he whispers low, “I’m going to spread that little pussy so wide, you’ll feel like a virgin again.”
Yes, please!
I moan as his teeth scrape against the lobe of my ear. “And I’m going to leave marks all over your pretty little body, so everyone knows you’re off the menu.”
My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my throat, but it’s quickly replaced by the pinch of his massive cock sliding inside of me.
Oh fuck!
He’s huge. He’s so damn huge.
I moan and rock forward, desperate for every inch of this man to wreck me, but the second he’s gotten to a proper punishing, the room turns dark again and I’m being pulled away into a forest of cedar with a blazing fire stirring in the distance.
I open my eyes, and Beau is standing over me, his hand on my shoulder, the scent of cedar lingering on his skin as the fireplace crackles behind me. “I think you’re having a bad dream.” He lowers beside me on the couch, his hand unmoving.
I swallow hard and stare toward him, those maple eyes looking more concerned than feral at the moment.
“What? A bad dream?” I say the words, though I’m not fully cognizant yet.
That and I don’t want to know the noises I was making that caused him to think I was having a nightmare.
My brain replays the last few seconds before I woke up.
Moaning, thrashing, possibly whispering his name like a possessed goat.
Great! I probably sounded like Satan summoning livestock!
I pull the blanket tighter around me, hoping it’ll swallow my shame and maybe create a barrier between me and my boss. The man I’m not supposed to want, especially considering I just left a terribly toxic relationship twenty minutes ago. Oh, also the part where I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.
Does this qualify me as some mid-morning trash TV guest? If it does, I’m not sure I’m against it. I could use the two-hundred-dollar appearance fee.
“I’m sorry.” I glance out at the rising sun. “I, ugh…”
“No worries.” He stands and returns to the recliner. “Don’t be embarrassed. You had a rough night. Bad dreams seem on par.”
Not really bad… exactly. The dream about how you were about to punish me for not turning in my report on time with your dick… seemed reasonable.
“Thanks,” I murmur as I lower the blanket. “Did you sleep in that chair all night? You must be exhausted.”