Page 75 of Dominion

“Stand up,” he repeated, giving a disapproving edge to his voice.

She scrambled to her feet, her hair disheveled, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

He pulled her panties up, enjoying her expression of horror at being dismissed without reaching orgasm.

“No…” she murmured.

He pulled her skirt back down and smoothed it for her. Grasping her waist, he tugged her down, spinning her to sit on his lap with her back toward him. He stroked his hands down the tops of her legs, up the insides of her thighs to cup her mons.

She squirmed against him, trying to get off.

He slapped her panty-clad pussy. “Naughty.”

“Oh, Ben,” she whimpered.

He pinched her nipples, both at the same time—hard. “I want you to go back to your office and work on your reports.” He turned off the vibrator in her pussy. “I will be using these intermittently on you today, but you do not have permission to climax. Do you understand?”

“No-o,” she moaned.

He pinched her nipples harder, making her writhe. “Try it again.”

“Yes, sir,” she gasped. “Yes, I understand, but?—”

“No buts. I want to keep you one stroke from an orgasm all day long. By the time I get you home and put my bareback cock inside you, you will orgasm so hard they’ll hear you in Africa. And when you do, your sweet little pussy will take every drop of my semen up inside of you to fertilize that egg you should be dropping any day now.”

She blushed, as she often did when he talked about getting her pregnant. He loved the thought of seeing her swollen with his child, starting the family he’d never known he wanted until he met her.

He switched off the anal vibrator. “You’re dismissed,” he said, giving her a wicked grin.

Her eyes watered, probably desperate for release, but she smoothed her hair and took a deep breath. “You’re killing me,” she whispered as she walked toward the door.

Oh,God. What was she going to do? That hadn’t gone as planned. She couldn’t think straight, her pussy still reverberating with the vibration of the toy he’d embedded in her. She tried to look professional, calm, and collected as she walked back to her office on wobbling knees.

Damn Ben Stone and his ability to turn her to a puddle of butter. Damn his sexy dark looks, authoritative command, and… tears sprang to her eyes once more. Damn his desire to start a family right now.

She opened the shades to her office window and looked out at the Denver skyline, the Rocky Mountains jutted majestically to the west. Maybe she should just give him what he wanted.

But what if she ended up resenting him and the child? What if she made a terrible stay-at-home mother and housewife? She didn’t really think she could handle being stuck at home all day by herself with a couple of kids—no matter how much she loved them. She’d always pictured having children later in her life, in her thirties, after she’d established her career. And she hadn’t really thought she’d stay home. Of course she and Ben hadn’t really talked about whether he wanted her to stay home or not, but his sister-in-law was a stay-at-home mom, so she had a feeling that was the way the wolves did it. They were a rather old-fashioned patriarchal clan.

She sank into her office chair, hoping the moisture seeping from her pussy didn’t soak through her panties onto her skirt. She leaned back and nibbled on her lip. To say she felt ashamed of herself was an understatement. She’d created quite a dilemma here, and the longer it went on, the worse it got.

She couldn’t talk to Ben now. It would be impossible.

She surged to her feet as the vibrator in her rectum came to life. Oh, dear lord. How would she survive this day? She looked at the clock as she gingerly lowered herself back down on her buzzing bottom. Only ten a.m. She would die before quitting time.

He turnedon first one vibrator, then the other, and alternated for a solid thirty minutes before the lunch hour. When he stepped into her office to take her to lunch, he realized she wouldn’t make it through the day.

She looked feverish, her eyes wild and dilated, her lips pursed with tension. Her thick, reddish-brown hair looked rumpled, as if she’d been running her hands through it.

He would take her home, fuck her, and give her the afternoon off. “Come,mi amor. Get your purse, I’m taking you to lunch.”

She looked confused, as if the simple task of picking up her purse was too much to comprehend.

He grabbed it for her and helped her to her feet. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m almost through with you,” he whispered in her ear.

She slumped against him, clearly relieved.

He slid an arm around her waist to provide support and led her out. “Ashley isn’t feeling well, so I’m taking her home. I’m not sure whether I’ll be back,” he told Karen.