he’d explained his displeasure he was no longer annoyed with his new PA.
‘Clara. I’m not sure why. Just a hunch.’
‘Then I will gamble on Jayne. If you win, Anya, then you will be rewarded. If I win, you will be punished.’
A quiver of chilled anticipation ran down Anya’s spine. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to win or lose. ‘May I ask a question?’
‘You may.’
‘Why is it so important that they are the same height as me?’
‘You will find out soon enough.’ Mark tilted his head to one side, and studied Anya shrewdly as if he was seeing her for the first time. ‘In the meantime I think you should change into the outfit I left for you.’
Feeling incredibly self-conscious, Anya brought her hands to her blouse buttons and began to undo each clear fastener. Privately she cursed herself; she’d known this would be something she’d have to do, and yet now she was actually stripping for her new boss, she felt clumsy and uncertain.
His shrewd eyes never left Anya’s fingers as they fumbled over her chest, her blouse flapping open beneath her suit jacket, her bra revealing that it was only just managing to contain her breasts, which seem to have swollen to twice their size the minute his gaze had fallen on them.
Mark said nothing, and his expression remained unreadable as Anya rose from her chair so she could take her jacket from her shoulders. Next, she unzipped her neat knee-length skirt, letting it fall to the floor in one swift motion, leaving her relieved that it didn’t hook itself on her boots as it dropped toward the carpet.
Despite still having her shirt, boots, and underwear on, Anya had never felt so naked under her companion’s unwavering stare. She was about to shrug her blouse to the floor, when Mark spoke softly. ‘Stop please.’
Anya, unsure what to do with her hands, held on to the sides of her blouse, not quite brave enough to look at her boss.
‘Come here.’
Walking cautiously, Anya stopped just in front of him, her heart hammering as she awaited further instructions. She’d assumed he’d take hold of her body, and was taken by surprise therefore when, digging his hands into his trouser pockets, Mark said, ‘Leave your shirt on, but take your bra off.’
Trying her best not to act too clumsily as she manoeuvred her bra from her sleeve, Anya failed to hold in the sigh of relief as her tight tits felt the caress of both her top and the air of the warm room against them.
‘Rub your nipples.’
Keen for some attention, even if it was just self-stimulation, Anya bought her fingertips to her teats, gently manipulating them. She was surprised by how quickly her own ministrations turned her on, in spite of the unaccustomed audience. An audience whose dark eyes were wide, but which was otherwise in perfect control of itself. Anya risked a glance at Mark’s crotch, but could see no discernible bulge. In fact, there was no sign to indicate that she was doing anything for him at all.
Her heart sank but, determined to give him a good show, Anya increased her speed, cupping, kneading, and pinching her teats hard and fast. She closed her eyes as sensations of want hit her legs. Anya’s juices covered her clit, and she wondered how much longer she’d have to hang on until Mark took her. Keeping her hands moving, Anya mentally willed him to intervene and give her the fucking she so badly needed after a week of outrageous sexual fantasies that had resulted in nothing but lonely masturbation.
‘Enough now. Stop.’
It took a few moments for Anya to truly register what he’d said. She couldn’t believe it. Surely he wasn’t going to leave things like this? Mark, however, merely went to sit at the desk. ‘I’d better make sure I’m up to speed on the potential housekeepers while you go and get ready. I assume some sort of catering has been arranged?’
Anya’s mouth hung open. She was seconds from climaxing; her knickers had stuck to her like glue, and he was paying no
‘Clara. I’m not sure why. Just a hunch.’
‘Then I will gamble on Jayne. If you win, Anya, then you will be rewarded. If I win, you will be punished.’
A quiver of chilled anticipation ran down Anya’s spine. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to win or lose. ‘May I ask a question?’
‘You may.’
‘Why is it so important that they are the same height as me?’
‘You will find out soon enough.’ Mark tilted his head to one side, and studied Anya shrewdly as if he was seeing her for the first time. ‘In the meantime I think you should change into the outfit I left for you.’
Feeling incredibly self-conscious, Anya brought her hands to her blouse buttons and began to undo each clear fastener. Privately she cursed herself; she’d known this would be something she’d have to do, and yet now she was actually stripping for her new boss, she felt clumsy and uncertain.
His shrewd eyes never left Anya’s fingers as they fumbled over her chest, her blouse flapping open beneath her suit jacket, her bra revealing that it was only just managing to contain her breasts, which seem to have swollen to twice their size the minute his gaze had fallen on them.
Mark said nothing, and his expression remained unreadable as Anya rose from her chair so she could take her jacket from her shoulders. Next, she unzipped her neat knee-length skirt, letting it fall to the floor in one swift motion, leaving her relieved that it didn’t hook itself on her boots as it dropped toward the carpet.
Despite still having her shirt, boots, and underwear on, Anya had never felt so naked under her companion’s unwavering stare. She was about to shrug her blouse to the floor, when Mark spoke softly. ‘Stop please.’
Anya, unsure what to do with her hands, held on to the sides of her blouse, not quite brave enough to look at her boss.
‘Come here.’
Walking cautiously, Anya stopped just in front of him, her heart hammering as she awaited further instructions. She’d assumed he’d take hold of her body, and was taken by surprise therefore when, digging his hands into his trouser pockets, Mark said, ‘Leave your shirt on, but take your bra off.’
Trying her best not to act too clumsily as she manoeuvred her bra from her sleeve, Anya failed to hold in the sigh of relief as her tight tits felt the caress of both her top and the air of the warm room against them.
‘Rub your nipples.’
Keen for some attention, even if it was just self-stimulation, Anya bought her fingertips to her teats, gently manipulating them. She was surprised by how quickly her own ministrations turned her on, in spite of the unaccustomed audience. An audience whose dark eyes were wide, but which was otherwise in perfect control of itself. Anya risked a glance at Mark’s crotch, but could see no discernible bulge. In fact, there was no sign to indicate that she was doing anything for him at all.
Her heart sank but, determined to give him a good show, Anya increased her speed, cupping, kneading, and pinching her teats hard and fast. She closed her eyes as sensations of want hit her legs. Anya’s juices covered her clit, and she wondered how much longer she’d have to hang on until Mark took her. Keeping her hands moving, Anya mentally willed him to intervene and give her the fucking she so badly needed after a week of outrageous sexual fantasies that had resulted in nothing but lonely masturbation.
‘Enough now. Stop.’
It took a few moments for Anya to truly register what he’d said. She couldn’t believe it. Surely he wasn’t going to leave things like this? Mark, however, merely went to sit at the desk. ‘I’d better make sure I’m up to speed on the potential housekeepers while you go and get ready. I assume some sort of catering has been arranged?’
Anya’s mouth hung open. She was seconds from climaxing; her knickers had stuck to her like glue, and he was paying no
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