Read Online The Businessman's Tie (The Power to Please, Book 1) by Deena Ward - Free Book Online Page B

tongue thrusting past my lips.
    He released my hair and grasped one of my breasts, squeezing
tighter than before. He kneaded my flesh between his fingers. Mmm. It was good
to be taken by him.
    Then he stopped kissing and massaging. He released my
wrists.
    He stepped back from me. “Put your hands behind your head.
Yes, like that. Kick away the skirt. Now spread your legs. A little wider. Yes,
like that. Put more arch in your back. I want your ass and tits out. Do it!”
    I complied with his orders as quickly as I could. He moved
various parts of me around until he had me in the pose he wanted.
    He slowly circled me then, eyeing me up and down. It was
embarrassing, but sensual too, standing here in front of him, wearing only
panties.
    “Look at the floor, or the ceiling,” he said. “I don’t care
which. Just don’t look at me unless I tell you to.”
    I did as he asked, staring at the floor, and though I wasn’t
allowed to watch him directly, I could see what he was doing well enough with
my peripheral vision.
    He stood beside me. “This is position number one.” He
reached out and rubbed my ass cheek. With his other hand he cupped one of my
breasts then ran his fingers down my abdomen, pausing above the flimsy triangle
of white silk between my legs.
    “Remember this pose,” he said.
    “Yes.” I wanted his hand to slip lower, under the silk.
    “Don’t move,” he said.
    Then he moved. I kept my eyes on the floor until I heard a
loud sound behind me, a scraping sound. Without moving my torso, I turned my
head a fraction of an inch to see what he was doing. He was pushing the
cushioned bench into the center of the room. I returned my gaze to the floor in
front of me.
    When he finished, he slipped an arm around my waist from
behind and pulled me against him. His other hand roamed freely over my breasts.
I arched my back, a subconscious push of my breasts into his hand. We both
breathed harder. I thought this was because of what he was doing to me, but I
was wrong, about him, anyway.
    His whisper was filled with menace. “I told you not to move,
and you’ve already disobeyed me twice.”
    I shivered. “I didn’t mean to, I —”
    “Don’t make it worse with excuses, Sweet. I don’t tolerate
disobedience. If you weren’t a beginner, this might have gone very, very badly
for you. But as it is, your punishment will be light.”
    I thought, my punishment? Oh, hell.
    “Now listen closely, because I won’t repeat this warning,”
he continued, still using that menacing whisper. “Do not disobey me a third
time. If you do, the repercussions will be ... severe. Do you understand?”
    I nodded, my head feeling big and wobbly on my neck.
    “Words,” he said.
    “Yes,” I managed to say, somehow.
    “Good.” He abruptly released me. “Now go straddle that
bench.”
    I moved as if I were in someone else’s body, someone else’s
dream. It seemed as if the more demanding Michael became, the more I wanted to
obey. My reaction to him flew in the face of what I thought I knew about my
character, defied who I thought I was. I felt much the same way as I did when I
was with The Businessman. I’d think, why am I doing this? And then I’d go do it
without pausing for an answer.
    Michael instructed me in how he wanted me to straddle the
backless bench. It sat in the center of the room, lengthwise, with one end
facing the curtained wall. I was forced to spread my legs wide to straddle the
bench and didn’t feel wholly secure on my feet when Michael nudged me to move
up more.
    Attached to the end of the bench was a raised bar which I
had originally thought was an arm rest. Perhaps it was an arm rest, but that
wasn’t the purpose Michael had for it. He instructed me to bend over and grab
the bar with both hands. He adjusted the position of my feet and the arch of my
back and neck, the straightness of my legs, until he had me where he wanted me.
    It was a position of intimate exposure. I wasn’t tied or
restrained in