Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
VINCENT
Tasting Velvet has unlocked something in me, and making her gush all over my face only emboldened me. I’ve always known that she likes my attention, that she wants me to cross the line between us, but until now, I’ve held myself back.
She is my employee, and I’m her boss. It’s a human resources disaster. But after having her, I don’t know that I can maintain that boundary any longer.
On Sunday, I try to mellow myself with a game.
Pondering my next move, I tap my Gekaran token against the table.
It has five marks on it arranged in a pattern.
Where it goes on the board depends on the other numbered tokens.
I do some quick calculations in my head, then place the token where it should go.
I score across three rows and add it to my tally.
Picking up my next token, I ponder what this attraction to Ms. Kristoff means. There is something more to her, something that demands exploring, something that calls to me in a voice that only I can hear.
I can’t help myself. She is too delicious, too savory a morsel for me to leave alone. Having her as Velvet isn’t enough, not when she stretches the confines of her blouses all day, when her perfect ass moves under her work skirts with a slight bounce. I can’t stay away.
I know it’s dangerous ground we’re walking, but as foolish as it is, my will is weaker than my hunger.
This one is a seven. A bit harder to find a home for.
It’s time, I believe, to stop fighting my desire. I have no need to mate, but I do have an aching for Ms. Kristoff. And I think she feels that ache for me, too.
There. I see the perfect spot for my seven and place it. I didn’t get a row bonus this time, but I will in a few more moves. This is one of my best games yet.
But tomorrow will be even better.
ROSETTE
When Vincent strides out the door, I’m disappointed. He truly opened up to me as Mr. Roth never has, telling me where he came from, how he ended up here. I am not surprised to find he does little with his spare time outside of work.
He’s all I can think about the rest of the night, and he’s in my thoughts even as I fall asleep.
The next day is no better. I spend my day wondering if Mr. Roth will come back to the club again that night. I’d been disappointed when he didn’t let me touch his cock. I wonder if I did a poor job last time.
I take it easy until it’s time for work. Then I put on my best outfit, a red velvet dress with a short skirt and matching red garters. But hours pass, and Mr. Roth never appears. I spend my time with other clients, though my eyes are always on the door, watching to see if he arrives.
At last, the night comes to an end. No one asked me to go to the back room, which I’m strangely grateful for. Usually I enjoy it, but today, I’m only interested in one orc.
I spend my Sunday catching up on chores and getting my nails done, then go out to happy hour with my friends. I don’t tell any of them what’s going on at work, or how Mr. Roth has been coming to Octavio’s. They all know what I do, but I rarely divulge details, so none of them ask for more.
But it’s vapid talk, and I’m caught up in wondering what Monday holds.
Soon, it’s time to see Mr. Roth again. I wait with nervous energy at the curb for the car to arrive, just as it does every morning. What will he do today?
When it pulls up, he is exactly where I expect. He does, however, greet me good morning, and thanks me again when I get him his coffee.
We head to a client meeting at a breakfast location. Once more, Mr. Roth seats me beside him. During the conversation, though, something gently brushes my thigh.
It’s Mr. Roth’s hand, hidden under the table.
I can’t believe it. He’s touching me, on the job. A shiver spreads through my entire body, but I try to keep my mind on what they’re discussing. We’re getting to the sensitive details now, before we lock in the deal, and I need to be accurate and precise in jotting them down.
The hand never leaves, nearly stealing my attention, and it’s wonderfully warm through the fabric of my skirt.
The rest of the day passes the same way, his hand sneaking touches here and there.
I return them, being so bold as to take his thumb during a meeting and push his fingers down toward my inner thigh.
Mr. Roth stiffens all over, but his mouth manages to pick up the conversation going on over the desk like nothing happened underneath it.
It’s dangerous, I know. If anyone saw us—if anyone here in the office found out… we’d be toast. But at last, Mr. Roth has crossed the line.
And I’m waiting for him on the other side.
When we head to my apartment that evening, Mr. Roth rolls up the tinted glass between us and George. Then he turns to me, his beastly body looming.
“Ms. Kristoff.” He glares down at me with those yellow eyes, pupils big and black. “You were… a very bad girl today.”
I suck in a breath as his hand slides over the leather seat to my thigh. There he squeezes, his pupils growing even larger.
“I’m sorry,” I say, twitching as his hand slides down to my knee, where my skirt ends. I’m not really sorry, though.
“Are you?” His lip tweaks up on one side, as if all this is amusing him greatly. It’s probably the most I’ve ever seen him smile. “I don’t think you are.”
His hand ducks under the skirt and then slides up the inside, revealing my thigh. My breath speeds up as he exposes me like this in the car.
“You like it when I touch you.” He doesn’t say it like a question. “What kind of woman likes to be touched by her boss?”
“Me,” I say immediately, wanting him to go even higher. I’m so warm between the legs, and I know he can help quench my thirst. “A woman like me.”
Mr. Roth chuckles dryly. His hand travels up even farther, coasting toward the crux of my legs where I’m probably already getting my underwear damp. But then, the car stops, and over the speaker George says, “We are at Ms. Kristoff’s residence.”
Mr. Roth withdraws his hand and smooths my skirt back down. Then he gestures for me to get out of the car, so I do, stepping out onto the street. He nods at me as I close it, and then the car drives away.
What the fuck just happened?
The next morning, I’m surprised when I open the car door and Mr. Roth isn’t there at all.
No, sitting on his seat is a little black box with a red bow tied around it.
“For you,” George says over the seat. Then he rolls up the privacy window so I’m completely alone.
Perplexed, I take the box and untie the ribbon, then open it. It looks like perhaps a very large jewelry box, so I’m expecting to find some sort of necklace inside.
Instead, though, I’m greeted by a series of large purple phallic objects. The smallest one is a tad more slender than my vibrator at home, while the largest is… large. Very large.
A small note sits underneath them. I take it out, and it’s printed in embossed gold letters.
Ms. Kristoff,
Should you be interested, please use these. There is an instruction sheet below this note that will assist you.
If you are not interested, simply leave the box in the car.
You have the day off today.
Best,
Vincent Roth
I stare at the note, realizing we still haven’t left my curb yet. Setting it aside, I see the mentioned instruction sheet and start reading.
It’s a dilator set, intended to encourage pelvic floor relaxation and stretch open the vaginal tissue. The sheet describes how the user should start small and work their way up.
Again, I gape down at the largest phallus. There’s no way that would fit inside me, right? It’s a beastly thing, immense and intimidating.
There’s only one possible implication for this gift: Mr. Roth wants to have sex. And the biggest dilator in the set is close to the size of his dick.
Holy shit. I held it, I licked it, but seeing it like this out in the open… I’m not sure I can take that there.
I knock on the window, and George rolls it down.
“I guess I’m leaving,” I tell him.
He nods. “I will pick you up tomorrow at the usual time.”
I wonder if he has any idea about the gift I was just given, but Mr. Roth is very private, so I doubt it.
Nodding absently, I take the box with me as I get out of the car. When I shut the door, it pulls away, and I’m strangely disappointed. I thought I would get to see Mr. Roth today, but I suppose he has more important things he wants me to do.
Carrying the box, I head inside my apartment. I don’t think I’ve ever been home on a weekday like this, not since I had the flu a year ago. It all feels surreal with morning light streaming in the windows and cars honking as they go by.
I have a job today, though. And I very, very much want Mr. Roth to fuck me, so I had better do it.
I manage to get to the third dilator in the set before I can’t take any more. There’s no way he’s as big as the biggest one, right? I think back to the first time Mr. Roth came into Octavio’s, and I couldn’t even fit my hand around him. He filled my mouth as full as it could be.
God, maybe it really is true to size. Is my body even capable of taking that?
After grabbing lunch at the lot of food carts, I puzzle over the next two dilators. Maybe if I really lube it up, it’ll work. But as hard as I try, I’m just not ready yet.
Damn. How long is this going to take?
Eventually, I work up the courage to text Mr. Roth. I only have his business phone, but I have a feeling he uses it as his personal one, too. I don’t think he has much separation between his professional and personal lives.
I got to the third one.
I don’t get an answer right away, but I didn’t expect one. He’s probably busy with meetings, and I wonder how he’s faring without me there to take notes.
Then, half an hour later, the reply comes.
Good. You have tomorrow off, too.
I gape down at my phone. He can’t be serious. I don’t need the time off, and I feel idle not being at work when I usually am.
You don’t need me?
I need you very much. Which is why you have the day off. Paid.
Oh. I see.
I understand.
There are no further messages after that, not that I need one. I know now what he expects me to do, and I’ll do it if it means I get what I want.