Continental Breakfast

Continental Breakfast

Ella Dominguez © 2013

Acknowledgements

Special thanks and love to my husband and daughter for their patience with my reading and writing addiction.

Thanks to my loyal readers for their continued support and kind words.

Loads and loads of thanks to my beta readers who helped decipher my thoughts.

Thanks to http://alchemybookcover.blogspot.com/ for the wonderful cover art.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

Chapter 1

My name is Bella and I am the personal assistant to Mr. Pettifor. I am also his plaything and muse. Over the last two years, I have come to accept this role and cherish it. I take pride in my work and it shows. Mr. Pettifor is generous and for that, I am grateful. He lavishes me with gifts quite frequently and though they are not expected or wanted, they are a nice perk of the job. Working for Mr. Pettifor, I have been afforded a lifestyle that I never thought possible and I’ve seen and done things that other women can only dream about and traveled to places that others have only read about. I guess you could say I’m Mr. Pettifor’s go-to-gal. I attend all work functions with him and I am on his arm for various galas when needed, but our relationship otherwise is strictly from 9 to 5.

This is the extent of my relationship with Mr. Pettifor and I’m completely okay with that. I’ve never needed or wanted more. I am monogamous to him even though he has never asked that of me because we never speak of such things. In fact, we don’t speak of much other than work. No, there are no deep and meaningful conversations, no late-night confessions, no meeting of the parents. There is simply mind-blowing and deeply satisfying sex. We share a symbiotic relationship that goes without saying. His needs are met and so are mine.

My daily routine consists of attending and assisting Mr. Pettifor with meetings upon endless meetings regarding mergers and acquisitions, and all of the humdrum activities that are associated with Mr. Pettifor’s line of work. I keep a very close watch over his schedule and time, as well as seeing to his personal needs, in all matters. But the best parts of our routine are the mornings and they are what I treasure the most. When Mr. Pettifor comes over the intercom to tell he wants his continental breakfast, I know it’s not eggs and a bagel that he’s requesting. 

I eagerly make my way into his office and lock the door behind me. I present myself in front of him as he peels my panties down and lifts me onto his desk.  This is when our fun and intimate interlude begins.

“Lay back, Ms. Darcy. I’m very hungry this morning,” he tells me, his voice hushed and needy.

I spread myself out on his desk, open my legs and offer myself up to him.

This morning he is in a particularly aggressive sort of mood as he dives into my wet folds as if he hasn’t eaten in weeks, even though he had his continental breakfast just two days ago. His skilled tongue flicks at my hot clit while his fingers probe my depths.

“Give it to me, Ms. Darcy. I’m famished this morning,” he grunts as he pulls and tugs at my throbbing pussy.

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor,” I squeak out.

His hot mouth covers me just as I cum for him, spraying into his greedy mouth.

“Yes, that’s it, beautiful, give it to me.”

His words spoken so lustfully make my inner walls undulate with desire.

“More,” he insists and I’m happy to oblige.

He finishes off by filling me to maximum capacity with his perfectly sized dick and pounding into me slowly and methodically. He cums after several long and pleasurable minutes, and then peels his condom off, tying the end and tossing it in the trash while I put myself back together.

“You’ll need to stop and purchase more Trojans this afternoon. Put that on your to-do-list,” he says without emotion.

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor.”

This morning has turned out to be a particularly good one. Three orgasms and a pussy stuffing that will leave me sore for at least 24 hours. I do cherish days like this.

I’ve never been the jealous type nor has Mr. Pettifor given me reason to be jealous, that is, until the leggy blonde with an exotic name started showing up. At first, she would stop by once a month and I paid no mind to her infrequent visits. But lately, her visits are closer together. This week, she has presented herself three times.

When I heard her impassioned orgasmic cries coming from his office, I knew at that moment, it was time for me to move on. Not wanting to make any rash decisions, I decide to wait at least a few days to give myself time to think more clearly and fight my way through the cloud of jealousy muddling my judgment before handing in my letter of resignation. Also, I don’t want to appear needy or desperate, or give the illusion of jealousy, even if that’s the case.

It is only two days following Leggy Blonde’s orgasmic visit and the insatiable Mr. Pettifor is calling for his continental breakfast. Being a bit put off, I hesitate. It’s the first time I’ve ever given a second thought to not obeying his command. When I don’t present myself immediately, an irritated Mr. Pettifor buzzes me.

Walking into his office, I am greeted with a raised eyebrow and a stern look.

“Why did you make me wait?”

“My apologies, Mr. Pettifor.”

‘I’m hungry,” he states impatiently. “Did you purchase more Trojans?” he asks as I approach his desk.

“Yes, Sir, they’re in your top drawer.” I know he knows this because I’m positive he used one with Leggy Blonde, but I’ll play along.

He finds one and hands it to me. While I unwrap the slimy wet skin, he pulls his dick out of his pants and I place it over his hardened cock, rolling it down gently all while avoiding eye contact.

Why am I so hurt by his sexual tryst? We’ve never agreed to monogamy. In fact, I’m sure he’s been with other women. He is a man of great wealth; of course he’s been with other women. I guess I’m so hurt because he had Leggy Blonde here at work, at our place. Within these four walls of his office, Mr. Pettifor belongs to me.

Mr. Pettifor lifts my face to meet his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, Mr. Pettifor,” I say unconvincingly.

I lie down on his desk and open myself up to him just like any other time, though this time it feels different. He proceeds to worship my pussy, but I’m just not into it. I have to concentrate in order to cum and practically force myself into submission when he pushes his rigid shaft into me. He must sense my lack of enthusiasm because when he finishes, he castigates me.

“Next time you’re not in the mood, I’d appreciate if you just said so. I don’t particularly enjoy it when you’re not actively participating.”

His tone is clipped and his eyes are burning a hole right through me.

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor.”

Chapter 2

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful. I have started writing my resignation and resume, and already have a few job prospects I’m looking into. I’m expected to attend a work dinner this evening. Normally I look forward to the extra time I’m able to spend with Mr. Pettifor and the way he touches me in public, his hand on my lower back, his fingers skimming over my arm as he talks about foreign policies. I enjoy getting all dolled up for him and the hungry look in his eyes when he brings me back to his office for the rare late-night sexcapade. However, tonight, I will decline his invitation.

I buzz him and request a meeting. When I enter his office, his eyes are on the computer as he types maniacally and speaks into his Bluetooth headset. He’s a force to be reckoned with and it’s a beautiful thing to see Mr. Pettifor in CEO mode. He ends the phone call and addresses me.

“What is it, Ms. Darcy?”

“I won’t be attending the dinner with you this evening.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course you are,” he simply states and goes right back to work. “I have something picked out for you to wear and a stunning new necklace with teardrop earrings. You’ll find them over there,” he says, pointing towards his clothes closet.

I do love when he dresses me up, but no, I need to start distancing myself from him and the sooner the better.

“Thank you, Mr. Pettifor, but I am not attending the dinner this evening. I will have the clothes sent back to Sachs immediately,” I tell him.

I walk towards the door but I’m immediately stopped.

“Ms. Darcy, your attendance this evening is not a request. I expect you to be on my arm.”

His voice is commanding and fierce and when I turn to face him, his look matches his tone. His eyes scan me up and down as if he’s confused and aggravated by my sudden resistance. He acts as though a woman has ever told him no before. Perhaps they haven’t.

“I’ll call Avenue Temps and have someone sent over to accompany you this evening, Mr. Pettifor,” I state more resolutely.

Again, I turn to leave, but Mr. Pettifor’s voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Ms. Darcy…”

I’m unable to bring myself to look into his deep hunter green eyes, so I remain motionless and facing the door.

“I’m not interested in a temp accompanying me. It’s you that I want.”

His voice is cool, but it heats my blood. He wants me. Until Leggy Blonde shows up, that is.

I cave to his command, “Yes, Mr. Pettifor.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly. My letter of resignation is complete and the plan is to hand it in tomorrow, first thing in the morning and before continental breakfast. Better yet, after breakfast. I might as well enjoy the man of the hour one last time.

Mr. Pettifor buzzes me and I enter his office. He has a gorgeous strapless, deep blue evening gown laid out for me with stockings and a dazzling pair of Louboutin studded heels. His taste in clothing is impeccable.

“Let me dress you, Ms. Darcy,” he states, motioning me towards him.

I stand before him and he takes complete charge over me, undressing me neither slowly nor hurriedly. He kneels in front of me when I’m down to my panties and he removes them sensually, sliding them down my legs and kissing my mound as I step out of them. He slides a finger into me and licks it off when he pulls it out.

“I want a little snack before we go.”

I can’t deny my boss when he says such naughty things to me. He pushes my legs apart and buries his face in the seam of my pussy. His expert tongue finds its way and my body pulses with lust. I’ve never touched his hair before. He has always forbidden me to touch him in such an intimate way, but tonight, knowing that our time together is limited, I fist my hands in his black and white frosted mane. It’s soft; oh, so soft. He quickly pulls away from me and stands, glaring down at me.

“You’re pushing my limits today, Ms. Darcy,” he growls tetchily and runs his hand through his hair.

Without delay, he grabs the gown and I step into it. He drags the zipper up, his fingers skimming across my spine, prickling my senses.

Opening his top drawer of his desk, he removes a teal colored box that I immediately recognize as being from Tiffany’s. He opens it and the necklace and earrings within are jaw-dropping. The deep blue sapphires match the gown perfectly.

“The color matches your eyes,” he says under his breath as if he finds it necessary to explain his choice. I turn away from him as he clasps the chain around my neck. I touch it, making sure it’s real and not just my imagination. He spins me around and then puts the earrings on me. I always feel so pampered when he does this. He steps back and eyes me head to toe.

“Take your hair down,” he instructs and I remove the French braid and let my hair cascade down, shaking my head and loosening my hair.

“Yes, that’ll do just fine,” he tells me without revealing anything.

We arrive at the large social hall within minutes of leaving. The party rooms are magnificent and opulent with large ornate chandeliers and decorative statues throughout. The room is crowded with over-primped trophy wives, mistresses and a few escorts no doubt. The men are all handsome in their business attire and the smell of masculinity is heady and intoxicating. I’ll miss this.

Mr. Pettifor leads me around the room, his hand on the small of my back. He never introduces me, but it’s just as well that he doesn’t. I like being the anonymous girl on his arm. The evening seems to be going well, that is, until Leggy Blonde shows up.

She’s quite attractive and I can’t blame Mr. Pettifor for indulging himself with her. But did he have to do it at work? I catch myself irritably sighing when she puts her hands all over him, and Mr. Pettifor looks down at me bewildered by my response. 

His attention is quickly turned back to LB, but not before she evil eyes me. I step away from the grope-fest going on before my eyes and get a drink. I can’t stop watching them and the way they interact with one another. He’s very friendly with her, much more so than he is with me. He smiles when she makes some charming remark and laughs with her. It’s so unfair that he’s never smiled like that at me. That smile should be mine.

It’s such nonsense that I’m pouting like a petulant child who’s been denied her binky. Mr. Pettifor and LB are so engrossed with each other I decide to make a hasty getaway. I’m sure I won’t be missed. Leaving a note with one of the waiters, I ask him to pass it to Mr. Pettifor when the time is right, and I slip out unseen.

I catch a cab home, make my way inside my apartment and quickly undress and shower. I lay out the necklace and earrings to be returned to Mr. Pettifor and hang the gown to give back to him as well. I’m standing with a towel wrapped around me and my hair completely wet when there’s a knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I ask.

God, I hope it’s not my neighbor, Justin, again. He can’t seem to take the hint that I’m not interested.

“Xander.”

Mr. Pettifor is here? At my apartment? He’s never been here before and frankly, I’m shocked he would venture out to this side of town.

I open the door and I’m met with haunting green eyes that look agitated. He stands in the doorway looking me up and down and his irate expression softens when he sees my just-showered state.

“You look absolutely…” he trails off, his eyes scanning my body, but doesn’t finish his sentence.

He pushes past me and gets right back to business.

I close the door behind him and wait for his explanation as to why he’s here, now, in my apartment at 9 o’clock at night on a workday.

His hands are resting on his hips and he remains turned away from me.

“You left without permission, Ms. Darcy. Your behavior this evening is completely unacceptable,” he grumbles.

“I’m surprised you noticed my absence,” I say in my defense.

He turns to face me and the look on his face is predatory. “Of course I noticed. You also took a cab and you know how I feel about that, too.”

He surprises me by seating himself on my couch and gesturing towards me.

“Get over my knee, now.”

Not this again. The one and only time I received a spanking from Mr. Pettifor was when I was still new and learning my job duties. That was the time I had inadvertently forgotten to notify him of an important meeting and he lost out on a large acquisition. I thought for sure I was going to be fired for such a gross failure of my expectations, but, no, Mr. Pettifor decided it best to keep me around, though thinking back, I’m not sure why.

I contemplate whether or not to accept my punishment. I move in front of him and drop my towel to the floor, almost giving in. Mr. Pettifor’s eyes move up and down my body, his tongue slicking his lips.

“No, Sir,” I reply defiantly. I’m really not in the mood for this man’s normally appealing arrogance right now and I’ll be damned if he thinks he’s spanking me after he and LB practically eye fucked each other right in front of me. I promptly pick my towel back up and cover myself.

“No?” Again, Mr. Pettifor looks dazed by my lack of compliance.

“I’m tired, Mr. Pettifor, you can see yourself out,” and with that, I retreat to my bedroom. A few moments later, I hear the front door of my apartment close.

Chapter 3

Waking early, I pack up the dress and jewelry and leave my apartment building. There’s a car already waiting for me compliments of Mr. Pettifor. I’ll miss this, too, and I’m not looking forward to utilizing the services of cabs and taking public transportation again.

I get to work earlier than usual and before Mr. Pettifor. I package the jewelry back in the box and place it in his desk drawer, and hang the dress in his closet. Back at my desk, I seat myself and get to the task of preparing his daily schedule.

When he arrives, he moves past my desk without as much as a good morning or looking at me. He’s still pouting about last night and my not accepting his punishment. I suppose now is a good a time as any to give him my resignation. I don’t wait for his continental breakfast call and make my way into his office without an invitation.  I’ve never made the first move with him or entered uninvited and the feeling is a bit exhilarating. When Mr. Pettifor looks up from his desk, he looks taken aback at seeing me. I lay the envelope on the corner of his desk and make my way over to him, not waiting for his response. I kneel between his legs and unbuckle his pants. I’ve always wanted to pleasure him this way, but he’s never allowed it. Most men usually beg for this sort of indulgence, but not Mr. Pettifor. It will be a sweet goodbye treat for the both of us.

I move quickly before he realizes what’s happening and I pull his semi-rigid dick out, gripping it firmly. I run my tongue up the length of his shaft slowly, prolonging the first lick. His breathing quickens as I squeeze tighter and engulf him into my mouth. He tastes clean and manly. I’ve missed doing this. The last time I gave head to a man was, well, before I started working for Mr. Pettifor.

It’s like riding a bike and my skills come back to me as though a day hasn’t gone by without doing it. I jack him off while licking and nibbling at his sack. He moans his approval when I open my throat to him and push all the way down to the base of his cock and swirling my tongue around the head. The sounds are wet and sloppy, making my pussy throb and ache to be filled.

Suddenly, Mr. Pettifor’s hands are in my hair as he guides my head up and down his dick. I’ll miss this perfect cock of his. He abruptly drags my mouth away from him and bends me over his desk, hiking my skirt up and yanking my panties down. He fumbles around in his desk trying to locate the condoms and finally gives up.

“Fuck it,” he pants out.

He shoves himself into me, filling me completely. He fists my hair again and shoves me face down onto his desk as he rams into me over and over.

“Mr. Pettifor,” I cry out as his cock trembles in me.

He grunts loudly, stills, and his warm cum pulses out of him. The intimate skin-to-skin contact makes me momentarily second guess my decision to resign and I look over at the envelope, wondering what I should do. 

He gently pulls out of me and grabs the box of tissues. Wadding a handful of the tissues, he gingerly cleans me. When he stands to look at me, he appears distressed and I think I know why.

“No need to worry, Mr. Pettifor. I’m on birth control. I have been for years,” I tell him flatly.

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I…” he starts to say but quickly pinches his mouth closed and grimaces at me.

“What was that about?” he asks.

I’m not sure how to respond so give him a taste of his own medicine. “I wanted a breakfast of a different kind this morning.”

Wanting to get away from the awkward and puzzled look on Mr. Pettifor’s face, I put my panties back on and smooth my skirt down over my thighs.

I walk around to the front of his desk and tap the envelope, “This needs your attention.”

“Before you leave, Ms. Darcy, we need to discuss your living situation,” he states, catching me off guard.  “I find your living quarters completely deplorable. I’ve arranged for a condo close to work in an upscale building. I think you’ll be quite pleased with your new accommodations,” he states very matter of factly. “If I had known you were living in such an undesirable part of town, I would’ve remedied this situation much earlier.”

If he had known? I’ve worked for him for two years and he never bothered to ask where I live.

“Tell me something: Why are you living in such squalor when I’ve been very generous with yearly bonuses?” he asks mildly annoyed.

“I think you over exaggerating a bit when you say squalor, Mr. Pettifor. Anyway, I feel the money you’ve given me would be better put to use when I attend medical school in a few years.”

Mr. Pettifor looks shocked. I’ve never seen so many different expressions on his face in such a short period of time.

“You’re planning on attending medical school?” he whispers.

“If I’m accepted, yes, Sir.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“You never asked. In fact, you’ve never asked anything personal about me. Not about being on birth control or about my living situation, or anything else for that matter. As for the condo, I appreciate the gesture, but it won’t be necessary.” I’m leaving anyway so none of this matters, I think to myself.

That was perhaps that’s the most I’ve ever said to him at one time. He remains static, his piercing green eyes boring into me. I tap the envelope again, “This is important.”

At my desk, I call Avenue Temps. I’ll need to find Mr. Pettifor a suitable replacement and allow myself time to train her to his tastes. Knowing what he prefers, I will be very clear to any potential prospects of what is expected of them. Perhaps Leggy Blonde would like to apply for my position. Oh, wait, she’s already been in my position – bent over his desk and being pounded.

As soon as I hang up the phone, I’m startled by Mr. Pettifor’s office door being flung open. He has my letter of resignation in his hand and he looks a combination of wounded and befuddled.

“What the hell is this?” he asks, holding the letter out to me and shaking it.

“Isn’t it clear?”

“Is this because of Svetlana the other day?”

Am I that easy to read?  Not wanting to give my jealousy away, I lie, “Of course not.”

“Is it because of my wanting to spank you last night?” he continues.

What the hell do I tell him? “No, Sir. It’s just time for me to move on.”

He blinks long and hard, his mouth parted in sheer surprise.

“Are you seeing someone?” he asks, his voice softer than it was before. If I’m not mistaken, he sounds hurt.

“I was, but he chose someone else,” I tell him, hoping he’ll pick up on my blatant innuendo.

Mr. Pettifor pinches his eyebrows together but reveals nothing else. He turns on his heel and slams his office door, making me jump.

That went better than I thought it would.

Chapter 4

The rest of my work day and the next are spent being ostracized by Mr. Pettifor. I don’t mind as it gives me ample time to get more work done without his intrusions and constant needing of his ego to be stroked. It’s also given me plenty of time to find and speak with several candidates for the position.

I have my eye on a cute little blonde, since that seems to be his preference, by the name of Amelie. She has several years of experience, which is more than I had when I started, and her work ethic seems very good. Also, doing a small amount of background checking on her, she seems to be very uninhibited as evidenced by her membership at a local sex club. It’s just the kind of attitude she’ll need to fulfill this position. I would hate for Mr. Pettifor’s sexual advances to be misconstrued and a sexual harassment suit to be brought against him.

I spoke extensively with her last evening, telling her of his preferences, and being more than a little explicit. She seemed to be fully on board with the idea of a sexually needy CEO, especially when I told her of his excellent oral skills and the perks involved. I have no doubt that she will be discrete and very pleasing to Mr. Pettifor.  Sadness and jealousy course through my veins at the thought of my CEO sexually gratifying another assistant and more importantly, of another woman pleasuring my CEO. Why, oh, why did he have to take Svetlana into his office?

As for myself, I have several job interviews lined up at the end of the week. No other job or boss will ever compare to Mr. Pettifor and knowing this up front will make it easier to find a suitable alternative and prevent me from getting my hopes up.

A new morning, a new day and I meet Amelie in the office lobby. She’s wearing what I suggested, something slightly revealing, but classy.

“You look fantastic, Amelie,” I praise her.

Her bright young face glows with joy.

“I hope Xander approves of me,” she says enthusiastically.

“I’m sure he will, but remember that he likes to be called Mr. Pettifor. You absolutely cannot forget that, do you understand?” I state clearly. “Also, from now on, try not to wear so much make up. You look stunning, but he prefers little to no makeup. With your natural beauty, a little gloss and mascara should do just fine, okay?”

She nods her understanding and we enter the elevator to go to the top floor. We’re met by Mr. Johansson, one of Mr. Pettifor’s colleagues. When I catch him eyeing the new help, I introduce them and they engage in friendly conversation. He appears to take a keen interest in her which is surprising, considering I thought he was gay. It just goes to show you how out of whack my gaydar is.

When we arrive at my desk, I buzz Mr. Pettifor who is already in his office.

“What is it, Ms. Darcy?” he asks.

“I’ve cleared your schedule this morning so that you can attend to an important matter.”

“See yourself in.”

The excited tone of his voice makes my heart skip a beat. I take Amelie’s coat, straighten out her skirt and tuck a stray lock of her gold hair behind her ear, wanting her to be presentable for my CEO.

“You look amazing, doll face,” I tell her, guiding her in to his office.

When we enter, Mr. Pettifor is sitting at his desk looking at his computer.

“He’s quite handsome,” Amelie whispers as she leans over to me. “How old is he?”

“Thirty-six,” I state.

Mr. Pettifor looks up at me, then Amelie and back to me.

“You invited a guest to join us for continental breakfast? I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing,” he tells me with a sinful smirk on his face.

My face flushes with embarrassment at Mr. Pettifor’s lewd comment and Amelie looks back to me confused by his terminology.

“No, Sir,” I cough nervously.

“Then who and what?” he says clipped.

“Amelie Davidson. She’s here for a formal interview.”

Mr. Pettifor narrows his eyes at me and audibly sighs, “Always the machine of efficiency, aren’t you, Ms. Darcy? You only gave your notice two days ago,” he huffs.

“Yes, Sir, you’ve trained me well and there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable,” I reply.

“Quite right about the training,” he answers, his eyes moving up and down my body.

I can’t decipher his expression because, as usual, he’s closed off and distant. After a long, cold stare, his eyes move to Amelie. He rocks his chair back and scans her up and down, his index finger pressed to his mouth. He looks back to me with an eyebrow quirked.

“This is who you picked for me?”

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor. I think you’ll find her qualifications and attitude quite pleasing,” I hint.

“I see. Well then, let’s begin, shall we? Sit, Ms. Davidson.”

“I’ll see myself out. Buzz when you’re finished,” I state, turning around to leave them to the interview.

“Bella, I’d like you to stay, please.”

Bella? He’s never called me by my first name. What’s he playing at? I stand frozen, still reeling from hearing Mr. Pettifor use my given name.

“Bella,” he repeats melodically.

My pussy immediately begins to respond. My body heats and I flush from head to toe. Not wanting him to see my current state of arousal, I put my head down and move next to Amelie.

“Tell me a little about your work experience, Ms. Davidson,” Mr. Pettifor politely requests.

I keep my head down and drown out the sound of her voice, focusing on calming my raging hormones. A continental breakfast is sounding pretty good right about now. When I finally muster up enough courage to look up, Mr. Pettifor’s eyes are on me and not Amelie.

I flush again under his heated gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly in amusement. He blinks hard and turns his attention back to Amelie.

While their conversation continues, I think back to my interview which doesn’t seem so long ago. I was lucky to have gotten an interview at all considering I had no qualifications other than a technical college degree and no work experience whatsoever to speak of. My hands were trembling when I had entered his office and his distinct scent filled my nose, arousing me beyond reason.

I’ll never forget the first words he spoke to me: “Bella; a perfect name for a beautiful creature.”

He sat behind his desk watching me with that same intense look he was giving me just moments ago. He must’ve sensed my eagerness to please him as he guided me around to the back of his desk. Thinking back, I should’ve run for the hills at the ravenous look in his eyes. Most women probably would’ve have, but despite his animalistic look, he was gentle and the way he spoke to me, I couldn’t help but give in to him that very first day. The hungry look in his eyes when he took me, on this very same desk, was something so incredibly special. His hands on my body, his mouth on me, his sweet tool of pleasure slowly fucking me… The memory of our first time is indelibly etched into my memory.

The lusty sound in his voice when he told me, “Yes, you’re definitely the girl for the job,” made me want to serve and please him from that day forward.

That day was one of many firsts for me: My first real interview and job offer, my first real orgasm, and the first time a man looked at me the way he did.

I was a different person then; shy, fearful, even a bit of a pushover. But Mr. Pettifor has trained me well and into the woman I am today – more confident, self-assured, and dare I say, even beautiful. He’s groomed me into the woman I thought he wanted me to be. I was his muse and I basked in it – took pride in it. Until Svetlana came along. How could he?

My eyes wet, thinking about leaving the man I’ve grown to care so deeply about and about a future without him. My heart aches at the thought of saying goodbye to him and of another woman taking my place.

“Excuse me,” I croak out as I hurriedly exit the office.

Mr. Pettifor stands in response, “Bella,” he calls after me.

I get to the restroom and dab my eyes, forbidding myself the luxury of a good cry. I’m being ridiculous. It was my decision to leave after all. Damn that woman for showing up and messing up a good thing. Damn Mr. Pettifor for giving into her feminine wiles. Damn me for falling for a man I knew I could never fully have.

Stepping out of the restroom, I’m surprised to find Mr. Pettifor waiting near the entrance and leaning against the adjacent wall. He straightens up when he sees me, seemingly concerned, though the look on his face is not one I’m familiar with.

“Are you alright, Ms. Darcy?”

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor. I’m just feeling a bit nauseous. As you know, I didn’t have any breakfast,” I say suggestively, unable to resist the pun.

He smiles at me for the first time in two years and finally graces me with his warm, throaty, sexy as hell laugh.

Chapter 5

“I’ve invited Ms. Davidson out for dinner this evening so I can get to know her better,” Mr. Pettifor informs me.

I can’t help but feel jealous, but it’s good he’s taken a liking to her. I nod my approval and we walk back to the office. He places his hand on the small of my back as we reach the door, the warmth of his hand penetrating the fabric of my blouse. He caresses me gently as he opens the door for me and gently pushes me through it.

“I expect you to you join us, Ms. Darcy.”

Turning to face him, I stare dumbfounded. Why on Earth does he need me there?

“Your blue eyes belie your emotions, Bella,” he whispers in my ear as he leans into me.

I pull myself away from his reach, unsure of how to respond to his cajoling. This is so unlike him. And what’s with the Bella? In two years’ time he’s never once used my given name and now, in a matter of an hour, he’s used it far too many times.

We remain staring at each other, Mr. Pettifor’s expression puzzling to me.

“Is there anything else, Mr. Pettifor?” I ask, breaking the silence.

He moves towards me as if to reach out and touch me, but then stops himself.

“Yes, there is, Ms. Darcy. Before I go forward with my decision to hire Ms. Davidson, I want to give you the chance to rethink your resignation.”

His searing green eyes stare right through me and he stands motionless, waiting for my response. I almost throw myself at him, wanting to be in his arms and scream, yes, yes – I take it back! But the memory of Leggy Blonde’s orgasmic and sexed cries coming from only feet away from me come back to mind. How could he?

I thought he belonged to me and me to him. Was I wrong for thinking that? Had I really been fooling myself all along? Yes, I have been fooling myself. I am merely his plaything and nothing more. I thought I was okay with that, but deep down, I was only okay with that if I was his only plaything. Leggy Blonde proved me wrong. How many other women does he have on the side? What has he been doing with his evenings for the last two years? For all I know, he could have a real girlfriend. Feeling nauseous at the thought, I turn my face away from the beautiful man staring at me.

“There’s nothing to rethink, Mr. Pettifor.  I obviously can’t provide you with what you need anymore and it’s time for the both of us to move on.”

“What makes you think you can’t provide me with that I need?” he asks, sounding traumatized.

Before I can answer, Amelie comes strolling out of Mr. Pettifor’s office.

“Oh, good, Amelie, we have a lot go over today, like getting your passwords set up and learning the computer system. We should get you acquainted with Mr. Pettifor’s schedule and his close colleagues as well. The next two weeks will be a bit overwhelming, but I’m sure we can manage things.” I glance to my side and Mr. Pettifor is watching me with a disconcerted look on his face. “If you’ll excuse us, we have a lot to do,” I tell him in an attempt to dismiss him. 

“We’re not done with our discussion, Ms. Darcy,” he replies sternly.

“We are done, Mr. Pettifor. If you could please write out a list of your top priorities for me to work on with Amelie, I would appreciate it.”

My eyes wet again and the tears threaten to break free. Yes, we really are done. Still, he remains immobile and my heart aches at the look of desperation in his eyes.

Just when I open my mouth to take back my resignation, he responds, “Fine, Ms. Darcy, I’ll do that. The top of my list will be continental breakfast. You’ll be sure to discuss my preferences and tastes with her, won’t you?”

My stomach goes into free-fall with his cruel words. I look up into his eyes and his look of upset has changed to his usual apathy. 

“Yes, Sir,” I squeak out, trying my best to hide my despair.

He quickly turns on his heel and goes back into his office. 

The day goes by slowly. Amelie is pleasant enough and a quick learner, but my thoughts are on my CEO. He hides in his office the entire afternoon, not once calling for anything, not even lunch. Late in the day, I order his favorite deli sandwich and soup, hoping to coax him out.

I buzz him, but he doesn’t respond, so knock once on the door and let myself in.  Mr. Pettifor is standing and looking out the large window, his arms crossed and deep in thought.

“Mr. Pettifor, I’ve brought you lunch, Sir.”

“Leave it on my desk,” he grouses.

“It’s your favorite, Sir, a Reuben with au jus,” I say softly.

He turns to face me and his hard look softens. “Thank you, Ms. Darcy. You always know just what I want.”

“After years of training, I should hope so.”

“Have you rethought your resignation, by chance?”

Why does he persist with this? “I would hate to disappoint Amelie. She’s quite taken with you. She’s a fast learner, Mr. Pettifor, and I genuinely think she’ll be a good match for you.”

I’m picking at the wrapping on his sandwich when he reaches over and touches the top of my hand.

“What I said earlier about continental breakfast – I didn’t really mean for you to discuss that with her…”

I cut in before he finishes his sentence. “It’s fine, Sir. She’s quite aware of your needs and inclinations. I was very thorough in finding someone who would be well-suited for you in that regard. I can assure you that she will be very discrete about your proclivities.”

Mr. Pettifor reaches up, cupping my chin and guiding me to look into his eyes. His touch is gentle and his tenderness reminds me of the day of my interview.

“You’re well-suited for me in that regard, Ms. Darcy. I don’t need a replacement.”

I take a step back, loosening his grip on me.

“I’ll see myself out.” I attempt to leave but my CEO puts his hand firmly on my shoulder, stopping me.

“When you said you had met someone but that he had chosen someone else over you, to whom were you referring?” he asks quietly.

I don’t want to answer this question. My mind is already made up.

“No one important, Sir. He hurt me and I’m moving forward with my life now so it makes no difference who I was referring to.”

I’m doing my best to sound convincing, but tears blur my vision. Mr. Pettifor’s eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to say something, but all that can be heard is a pitiful sigh.

“Is this about Svetlana and tell me the truth,” he finally asks, his voice cracking with his words.

By the grace of God, there’s a knock on the door and Amelie’s voice is heard on the other side.

“Come in, Amelie,” I say loudly.

Mr. Pettifor’s hand drops away from me and he moves back towards the window.

“We should get you ready for dinner. There’s a blue evening gown in the closet that should fit you beautifully,” I tell her, pointing toward the closet.

Her eyes light up and she practically runs to find it.

“The shoes should also fit. What size are you?”

“A 6.5. Oh, Bella!’ she squeals when she sees the frock.

“Yes, they’ll fit you.”

Mr. Pettifor spins around to watch my interaction with Amelie.

“That dress belongs to you, Ms. Darcy. Why is it here?” he asks.

“I won’t need it anymore. Nor will I need any of the gowns you purchased for me. I’ll have them all brought back here for Amelie, as well as the jewelry, seeing as we’re about the same size. I would like to keep the shoes, though. Do you find that acceptable?”

His breathing quickens and he puts his hands on his hips, obviously irritated with me.

“Okay, then. I’ll do that,” I reply when he doesn’t answer me.

“I don’t want any of that back, Ms. Darcy. I bought those things for you and only you,” he snaps.

The look on poor Amelie’s face makes me cringe.

“And I appreciate that you bought them for, Mr. Pettifor. It was very generous of you. My giving them back doesn’t mean that I’m not grateful, please understand that,” I say softly, trying to convey my deep gratitude. Two years ago I would’ve blown up at him for speaking to me in such a manner, but I’m more refined now thanks to Mr. Pettifor. I know my place with him and how to soothe his irritation.

He blinks rapidly and his mouth twitches, but he says nothing more.

I turn back to Amelie who still looks mortified at me and Mr. Pettifor’s interaction.

“I’ll leave the two of you alone so that Mr. Pettifor can dress you and you can attend to his needs,” I say, disgusted with myself for even suggesting it.

I try to make a quick getaway, but my CEO’s voice halts me in my tracks yet again.

“Bella, my beautiful princess, I’d like you to stay and watch, please.”

Oh my God - those words. Why is he doing this to me? Why does he choose now of all times to speak to me so tenderly? He’s had two years to say these things to me but he resisted and now? No, I can’t bear the image of him dressing another woman.

I move quickly to open the door and respond without looking, “No, Sir. I’d rather not. Text me with the details of where to meet the two of you,” I respond, sniffing back tears. I hurry out his office door and stumble on my way out, tripping over my 4 inch heels and crashing onto my hands and knees. I try to pick myself up quickly, but Mr. Pettifor’s strong, warm hands are on my shoulders, helping me up.

“Princess, are you okay?” he asks, sounding distraught.

A lone stray tear rolls down my cheek, infuriating me, but Mr. Pettifor’s thumb sweeps it away before I can.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

He pulls my face up and when he sees my glassy eyes, he looks startled and sickened. He should be. Hell, I’m revolted with myself for feeling so damned emotional right now. Damn Svetlana and her magical pussy.

“I just scuffed my knees. I’ll be fine. Amelie is waiting for you, Sir. Call me with the plans,” I tell him, pulling out of his reach and practically running out the front door.

When I get into the car waiting for me, I finally allow myself to cry. I look at my watch, deciding that three minutes should suffice. When the three minutes are up, I take a deep breath, hold it and suck my tears back.

At my apartment, I lay out all of the wonderful dresses and jewelry, setting one aside for this evening, and box it all up. I go through my drawers to see if I’ve left anything out that needs to be returned or thrown out and I find the funny pair of flowery panties that Mr. Pettifor bought for me when we were in Italy on a business merger. Our time in Italy holds some of my fondest memories. Touching them, I can’t help but smile.

Mr. Pettifor bought them as a joke, but I wore them to work the next morning, making sure to wear a skirt that was just sheer enough for him to see the imprint of the flowers. He almost gave me a smile that day. Almost. After the long and tedious meeting, he pulled inside one of the empty conference rooms and asked me to strip down to my frilly panties for him. I did my first strip tease that day and from the gleam in his eyes, he quite enjoyed it. That day we not only had continental breakfast, but also continental lunch and dinner as well. Yes, I think I’ll hold onto these.

I put them away and sift through the dresses again. Amelie will look amazing in these. I hope she makes my CEO happy. She seems like such a sweet girl, I hope she doesn’t make the mistake of falling for the insatiable and unobtainable Mr. Pettifor like I did. I would hate to think of her heartbroken like me. I will just have to let her know about LB so that she has fair warning.

I dress myself in front of the mirror and daydream that Mr. Pettifor is dressing me, his large hands touching my shoulders, my spine; his fingers caressing my thighs as he puts the stockings on me and then fingering me to orgasm. I will miss those fingers and that magnificent tongue of his. I will miss everything about him. Yes – absolutely everything.

I let my hair down, the way he likes, put on the dress that he picked out for me on our very first outing, and pinch my cheeks for color.

After checking my text messages, I head to the designated location. How apropos to be meeting at the same place we first had dinner. When I arrive, I’m led to Mr. Pettifor’s usual table. Amelie is chatting him up, but he remains silent and indifferent to her attempts at charming him. She looks troubled over his lack of interest. When Mr. Pettifor sees me approach the table, his eyes light up and he straightens himself. His money green eyes look me up and down and for the second time in one day, he smiles at me.

When Amelie sees me, she looks relieved. I scoot in next to her and place my hand on her thigh for comfort.

I lean over and whisper, “It’s not you, Amelie. This is par for the course.”

She lets out a sigh, smiles and nods.

“What is?” Mr. Pettifor asks, startling both Amelie and I.

“What is what?” I ask.

“Par for the course.”

Uh oh - he wasn’t meant to hear that. Poor Amelie sips at her wine nervously and glares at the table top.

“May I speak freely?” I ask.

“Have I ever stopped you from doing so?”

No, I suppose he hasn’t. 

“Go on, Ms. Darcy, what’s par for the course?” he prods.

“Your indifference, the distance you place between yourself and those around you, and your lack of awareness to those who show genuine interest in you.” That felt good to say out loud. I mean, what is he going to do at this point? Fire me?

Amelie stiffens up next to me, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping at me.

Mr. Pettifor narrows his eyes at me, seemingly mulling over what I’ve said and chewing his bottom lip tetchily.

He doesn’t respond to me, but looks at Amelie and replies, “I want you to know that the way Ms. Darcy is speaking to me is not acceptable behavior. A word of advice Ms. Davidson:  If you ever feel the need to speak freely as Ms. Darcy has, don’t.”

The poor little blonde shakes her head emphatically at him. “No, Xan… I mean… Mr. Pettifor. Of course not - I would never.”

Mr. Pettifor then casts his disapproving glare back onto me. “Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from Ms. Davidson on proper manners.”

He told me to speak freely and now I’ve pissed him off. I sigh loudly. Feeling chastised and mildly embarrassed at my outburst, I swirl the ice around in the glass of water in front of me.

“Perhaps, but you did tell me to speak freely,” I say in my defense.

Dinner arrives and Amelie nervously tries to make up for the uncomfortable silence between Mr. Pettifor and me. Not hungry and mildly depressed, I pick at my dinner.

Mr. Pettifor finally chimes in and starts asking the standard interview questions about Amelie’s experience, education, and then giving her different scenarios relating to how she would deal with stress. She’s very well-spoken and well-learned, and I’m impressed with her answers. The conversation eventually turns mildly explicit.

“So Ms. Darcy has told you about my sexual proclivities, yes?” he asks.

True to form and making me proud, Amelie doesn’t flinch. “Yes, Mr. Pettifor, she has. She was very forthcoming regarding your needs. I promise you that I’m a trustworthy person. I would even go so far as to sign any kind of documentation regarding my confidentiality regarding this matter.”

Nice. I really do like Amelie.

“And you’re willing to service me in any way that I desire and to accept punishment in any manner that I see fit?”

I look up at Mr. Pettifor and he has an eyebrow raised at me. No doubt he’s making a reference to my lack of allowing him to spank me last night. Why do I have to be here to listen to this? I mean, I know what’s going to happen between the two of them, but do I really need to hear the painful details?

“Absolutely, Mr. Pettifor, I’m very uninhibited and my sexual philosophy is I can’t make a judgment about liking something unless I try it first,” she answers very professionally.

Bravo, Ms. Davidson, I want to say and pat her on the back.

“Very well. How do you feel about that?”

I’m scanning the tabletop and poking at my filet mignon waiting for her next response, but she remains quiet. After several long moments, I look up at Amelie to see why it’s taking her so long to respond, but she’s staring straight at me. I look to Mr. Pettifor and he’s also looking at me.

“Was that question directed at me?” I ask. 

Mr. Pettifor nods yes and waits for my response.

“How do I feel about what?”

“About Amelie servicing me and accepting punishment?”

I’m aghast at his question. “What difference does it make how I feel about it?”

“It does make a difference,” he says, sitting up straighter and leaning forward.

“Since when?”

His eyebrows pinch together and he rests his elbows onto the table.

“Since the moment I met you,” he states and his sheer honesty shakes my very foundation. He cares about what I think? If that were true, he wouldn’t have gotten serviced by LB in the very next room.

Unable to tolerate the look on his face anymore and his odd line of questioning and cryptic responses, I feel the sudden need to leave.

“If you’re done with me, I’ll be leaving now.”

I abruptly stand, gather my clutch, and bolt from the table. I make a pit stop in the ladies room before leaving. My hands are trembling as I stand and look at my own image in the mirror. My stomach churns at the thought of Amelie servicing Mr. Pettifor. I close my eyes tightly, splash cold water on my face and lean over the sink, trying to compose myself.

I’m started by the sound of a man’s voice coming from the door. I open my eyes and spin around to see the greenest of green eyes gazing back at me darkly.

“No, Ms. Darcy, I’m not done with you yet,” Mr. Pettifor says quietly as he locks the door behind him.

He moves quickly, ravaging me without warning. He grips my hair at the back of my neck and smashes his mouth on me before I can protest. His tongue whips in my mouth, owning me completely. My body goes limp with his infernal touch and he steadies me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I want him, there’s no denying it. I need him, there’s no denying it. But, Svetlana. Right now, I just want to forget about her and open myself up to him.

“Oh, Mr. Pettifor,” I moan into his mouth.

He responds by kneeling in front me, turning me to face the mirror and lifting my dress. His movements are frantic as he rips my panties off, the fabric shredding under his strong hands. He forces my legs open and spreads my legs, burying his tongue in my ass.

“I want all of you, Bella, and since you didn’t let me spank this ass last night, I’m going to fuck it tonight,” he growls.

He’s never taken me this way, no man ever has, but tonight I won’t deny him. After all, this will be the last time we share this kind of closeness. He licks and sucks at my puckered entrance, and then slips a finger in, making me wince from the sudden intrusion. He moves it in and out slowly, loosening me up. I bend over and spread my legs further, giving myself over to him fully.

“Take me, Mr. Pettifor,” I pant.

He stands behind me and pushes the head of his dick into my tight canal and I whimper from the foreign sensation of being stretched in such an intimate and forbidden place.

“That’s it, Bella. Fuck this cock,” he breathes into my ear as he bites my lobe sharply. He grips my hips firmly and pulls me onto his shaft, forcing himself completely into me and filling me entirely. My knees start to buckle from the intensity of his momentum, but Mr. Pettifor wraps an arm around me and steadies me.

“You can take it,” he says tenderly. He pumps into me over and over, his slick cock easier to withstand with each thrust as my ass relaxes.

Watching the orgasmic look on his face in the mirror, I wonder what’s going through his brilliant mind.

“You look amazing being fucked like this. Your ass is perfect, Bella. My God, it’s absolutely flawless. You’re so tight. Why haven’t we done this before?” he grunts. “I love how you feel around me without a condom. It’s so different. Can you feel the difference?” he asks, looking excited.

“Yes, Sir, I can feel it. You feel so much warmer.”

“Yes, that’s it - the warmth. The heat of your core is unbelievable.  Oh, shit…” he gets a pained look on his face and then rams into me one last time as his cum jets into me.

He kneels in front of me again and turns me around, ready to finish me off. I let caution fly and fist his hair as laps at me and tugs at my clit. To my surprise, he doesn’t resist. My legs began to quiver just before my release.

“Give it to me, Bella. I was denied breakfast, now I want my continental desert,” he chuckles against my pussy.

I can’t resist giggling at his raunchy sense of humor. Twice in one day I get to hear his laugh and my insides melt. He mumbles something unintelligible against my clit and the vibration sends me over the edge and I fall to my knees. Our moment of post coital bliss is interrupted by someone knocking on the bathroom door. We both promptly put ourselves together. Stepping out of the bathroom, we’re met by judging eyes and gasps.

Mr. Pettifor looks at me and smoothes my just-fucked hair for me and touches the tip of my nose gently.

“You should know, Mr. Pettifor, that was the first time I’ve been taken like that,” I confess.

He pauses and stares at me for a moment.

“I was your first anally?” he asks.

“Yes. You’ve been a lot of firsts for me,” I answer.

“Such as?”

“You gave me my first real job. You gave me my first real orgasm. I did my first strip tease for you…”

The corners of his mouth turn up as if he’s recalling the memory.

“… and you were the first man who made me feel cherished.” He was also the first man to truly break my heart, but I decide it best to leave that part out.

His smile fades and he blinks rapidly, his soft look suddenly hardening and his coldness returning.

Chapter 6

After an awkward goodbye, Mr. Pettifor’s driver takes me home. I wish I hadn’t confessed my firsts to him. I vow to myself that what happened tonight with Mr. Pettifor will be the last time. I need to make that very clear to him tomorrow. What do I think about Amelie servicing him? What an ignorant question. Perhaps she’s servicing him now. I weep at the thought.

As I lay in bed, my mind spins its web of fantasies. In my make-believe world, I belong to Mr. Pettifor – not just from 9-5, but 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  In my dreams, I can have him anytime I want and I can speak freely about anything. In my fantasy, I know all of his secrets and he knows mine. I eventually fall asleep, Mr. Pettifor’s voice lulling me and praising me…

Bella, my beautiful princess, it’s you that I want.

I wake early again and pack up all of the dresses. I call for Mr. Pettifor’s driver and have him assist me in loading the box of gowns and jewelry.  When we get to the office, Amelie is already working on Mr. Pettifor’s schedule. I’m impressed by her promptness and I have no doubts she will make a fantastic personal assistant. She smiles when I approach her and her sweet disposition touches me. This is exactly who Mr. Pettifor needs - someone light-hearted; someone who is willing and trainable. With her lack of inhibition, she will also make an excellent sexual partner for him. My stomach does a flip-flop at the thought and my heart soon follows suit.

“Mr. Pettifor is already here, Ms. Darcy. He asked me to send you in when you got here,” she says cheerfully.

“Thank you, doll face. This box is for you. Please take care of everything in it.  Each of these gowns holds very special memories for me. The smaller box contains jewelry. I will let Mr. Pettifor decide what he wants to do with it as it’s all very expensive, but I thought you could at least pick out one item you would like me to hold back for you,” I tell her, handing her the box.

Her eyes light up and she looks like a child on Christmas.

“Oh, Ms. Bella, you’re so kind. Thank you,” she says and her eyes gloss over.

“Why the glossy eyes?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I hardly know you, but it just seems so wrong for you to be leaving. I would’ve really liked to have gotten to know you better,” she sniffs.

“I’m not going to the moon, silly girl! I’ll only be a phone call away if you have any questions. And maybe we can get a drink sometime,” I suggest, rubbing her back.

She nods happily and digs through the box of diamonds, sapphires and rubies. She finds a lovely yet understated diamond tennis bracelet and I place it on her delicate wrist.

“You look beautiful, my sweet, Ms. Davidson. Simply beautiful.”

“I’ve never had diamonds before,” she replies, dreamily.

“Well, get used to it. Mr. Pettifor is a jewelry whore and before long, he’ll be lavishing you like the princess that you are.”

When I turn to go towards Mr. Pettifor’s office door, I find him standing just inside, watching my interaction with Amelie.

I walk towards him and he gestures me into his office. I set the box of jewelry down on his desk and he sits down on the front of his desk, next to the box. He casually thumbs through it, the sounds of metal and chains tinkering and jingling throughout the room. He pulls out a large ruby ring surrounded by diamonds and twirls it between his fingers.

“Why are you giving all of this back? It belongs to you.”

“We’ve already been through this.” I state.

“Won’t you at least keep one item?” he says sadly, holding out the dazzling ring.

I can’t resist his puppy dog eyes. “Yes, Mr. Pettifor, if it pleases you.”

He pauses momentarily and gets a ravenous look in his eyes. He moves towards me, kneels and grabs my left hand. He slips the ring onto my middle finger and skims his thumb over the top of my hand. Then he flips my hand over and kisses my palm, his warm, wet lips calling to me.

“It was very kind what you did for Amelie,” he whispers.

Oh? Is that how it is? “So you’re on a first name basis with her already?” I ask.

He stands up and shakes his head, “It’s not like that…”

“I apologize. It’s none of my business. I’m glad to see you’re getting on with her so well. I trust the two of you had a winning evening after I left?”

“Ms. Darcy, what exactly do you think happened between Ms. Davidson and me?”

“It’s not for me to guess. I simply mean to say that I sincerely hope the two of you are going to be compatible. So what exactly did you want to talk to me about?” I ask, moving the subject along.

“After our episode last night, I thought perhaps you had reconsidered your resignation, but now that I see you’ve brought back the clothing and jewelry, I can see that you’re really planning on going through with this.”

“Yes, about that. I want to make it very clear that what happened last won’t happen again. What I experienced with you was amazing and I’m glad it was you who took my anal virginity, but it’s for the best that we cut things off cleanly from this point on.” My voice betrays me, despite my best attempts at sounding resolute.

I look down at my twisted hands, wanting to run out of the room.

“You should know - you were a lot of firsts for me, too, Ms. Darcy.”

I look up at him dubiously, completely staggered by his statement. Why is he attempting to tell me this now, when I’m leaving? If he had feelings for me, why did he have Leggy Blonde bent over his desk? This man is a great manipulator. He taunts with me sweet words and my name spoken seductively, hoping I’ll cave to his will. I’ve seen him to do it his colleagues for two years. He’s a man who knows how to get what he wants.

He took that woman in the most intimate way, within earshot of me. I can’t accept that. He was distant and cold for years. He used me as his plaything and I allowed it because I wanted to stay in his life. He hurt me deeply. I can see he’s waiting for me to ask him to elaborate, but I don’t want to hear his empty words right now.

Still, I can’t hurt him. The last two years with him have been incredible and he’s made me into the woman I am today. He’s given me a hefty-sized nest egg that will go towards my medical education and for those things, I will always be grateful to him.

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Pettifor, but I have things I need to attend to. I will be taking an extended lunch today and going for a job interview.”

Mr. Pettifor stands and looks flabbergasted that I didn’t just all at his feet and beg him to tell me what he meant.

“So that’s it?”

“I had planned on staying a full two weeks, but Amelie is doing so well and she’s such a fast learner, I’ll only need to stay the remainder of the week to finish training her. I will be on call if she has any questions for as long as she needs,” I say, fighting the urge to sob into my hands.

And just like that, Mr. Indifference is back.

“Whatever. See yourself out. By the way, feel free to take the rest of the afternoon off to find another job. I’m sure Ms. Davidson and I can manage just fine without you,” he says, pushing me abruptly out of his office and slamming the door in my face.

I’m left reeling from Mr. Pettifor’s abrupt coldness. I sigh loudly, hang my head in sorrow and make my way back to Amelie. When she sees my saddened state, she comes to me and hugs me.

“I’m not sure what’s going on, Ms. Bella, but I everything will be okay. Can you tell me something?”

“Yes, sure,” I say, sitting in an office chair.

“Why are you quitting when you clearly have feelings for Mr. Pettifor?”

Her question stuns me. “I don’t feel that way for Mr. Pettifor,” I try to deny.

“Oh, Bella, stop that. It’s also very apparent that he cares for you.”

I laugh sarcastically at her obvious misinterpretation of the situation. “What on earth makes you think that?”

“By the way he watches you when he you’re not looking. By the way he completely ignores when you’re in the room. By the way…”

I can’t stand to hear anymore and I cut Amelie short. “I appreciate your opinion, but you’re wrong. Things have transpired between Mr. Pettifor and I that have proven that he doesn’t feel the same way about me that I do about him. So, yes, you’re correct in the regard. I do care for him, but I can’t give him what he needs anymore. Please, Amelie, for the sake of your heart, understand this man is an island unto himself.”

“Ms. Bella, I have no intentions of falling for Mr. Pettifor. Quite frankly, he’s not my type. I will please and service him because it is my job and I take pride in my work, but that is all. All you have to do is the give the word and I’ll back out of this job,” she says resolutely.

I tuck a strand of her shiny hair behind her ear and smile. Oh, adorable, delicious Amelie. If I weren’t so completely straight and enamored with cock, I would devour this sweet little tart. She must sense my lesbian thoughts because she giggles to my touch, both of us eventually breaking into laughter.

Chapter 7

My interview goes well enough. They’re requesting a letter of recommendation from Mr. Pettifor and I dread having to ask him for it. Not wanting another confrontation, I decide to text my request to him. Now that I’m done with the interview and have the rest of the afternoon off, I’m unsure of what to do with myself. 

I think back to Mr. Pettifor’s offer of setting me up in a condo. My feelings are mixed about it. On one hand, I appreciate his caring gesture of wanting me to be in a safer neighborhood, on the other, it makes me feel cheap, like I’m his mistress or dirty little secret. If I’m his mistress, who then would be his wife? His work, of course. It’s the thing he cares about the most. I’ve always revered his dedication and work ethic, wanting to be more like him in that regard. When and if I ever become a physician, I hope I can perform as well at my job as he does. He really is a man to behold and cherish. It’s unfortunate he’s so closed-off and distant. Most women won’t put up with it. Well, not a woman who truly loves him. I’m sure there are plenty of women lined up to get at his money and into his pants, but I sincerely hope he finds true love.

I’m sitting at a local coffee shop across from Mr. Pettifor’s building and sipping on a latte, thinking about the last two years and trying to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“Hiya, sexy.”

It’s Justin, my neighbor. I look around, trying to plot my escape.

“What are you doing in this part of town?” I ask him.

“Slumming,” he laughs. “No, really I’m just delivering something up the street. I saw you in here and thought I’d say hi.”

“Oh, well, hi,” I say nonchalantly.

“You look really hot in your work clothes. Have I ever told you that?” he says cloyingly sweet.

“Yes, you have. More than once, but thank you,” I say, trying to be polite but short.

“So how about that invitation?” Justin asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

He’s referring to asking me out to a dance club. I lower my eyes to my coffee, avoiding making eye contact with the over-persistent Justin.

“Yes, what about that invitation, Ms. Darcy?”

I look up, startled to see Mr. Pettifor standing behind Justin. Justin spins around and looks Mr. Pettifor up and down, sizing him up.

“Who the hell are you?” Justin asks, straightening up and puffing his chest out like a rooster ready for a cock fight.

“I’m her boss.”

Mr. Pettifor’s look is fierce. His chest is also pushed out and his stance is pussy dripping sexy. I’ve never seen him look quite so… protective. He pushes past Justin and holds his hand out to me.

“There are some things we need to discuss, Bella,” he says, his eyes burning.

I place my hand in his and excuse myself from Justin who just stands staring, gape-jawed at Mr. Pettifor.  I grab my coffee and we walk over a secluded table. He politely pulls my chair out for me to sit in and then pushes it back in. This is just another of the many things I’ll miss; being treated like a proper lady.

Mr. Pettifor seats himself across from me and watches me silently for several minutes.

“What is it, Mr. Pettifor?” I ask, exasperated of the quietness.

“I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. My behavior was unforgivable. You deserve better than to be shoved and to have a door slammed in your face, especially after everything you done for me over the past two years. I hope you never allow another man to treat you so atrociously.”

I’m stunned into silence.

“Who was that boy?” he asks, referring to Justin.

“My neighbor.”

“I see. So he’s interested in you?”

I shrug my shoulders and take a drink of latte.

He sighs loudly, but continues on. “I received your request for a letter of recommendation. I’ve written it up and will send it to whomever you request.”

My cheeks flush thinking about what harsh words must be written. I look down at my coffee and sip nervously at it.

“I can assure you that the letter contains nothing but praises, Ms. Darcy,” he says, as if he’s read my thoughts.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whisper.

“It’s not too late, Bella…” he says softly.

When our eyes meet, his eyes are glassy and heart wrenching.

“You can still back out of this absurd idea of yours.”

“No, Sir, I can’t. You’ll be fine without me. There are women lining up to take my place, not just for my job, but for…”

“Stop, Bella. I won’t be fine,” he croaks out. “You never answered my question.”

“Which one? The one about Svetlana or the one about Amelie servicing you?” I ask, trying to suppress my tears from the look on my CEO’s face.

“Both.”

“Do you really want me to tell you what you already know?”

“Bella, what is it that you think happened in my office the other day?”

“I’d rather not talk or think about it for that matter. It’s not my place to ask you about it, either. Your personal affairs are just that, personal. I am, after all, only the office help.”

“That’s not true and you damned well know that. I’m sorry, Bella…” he starts to say as he reaches for my hand, but I can’t hear my name uttered from his perfect mouth or his apology for having another woman within earshot. His actions were cruel and thoughtless.

I stand and grab my clutch.

“No, I wouldn’t know that because you’ve never said as much. There’s no need for you to apologize because I have no right to try and put restrictions on your activities. I know my place, Mr. Pettifor and I know exactly where I stand with you.”

I practically run out of the coffee shop and into a cab, and I immediately let the tears that I’ve been holding back surge out of me.

The rest of my night is spent sulking in my apartment and browsing the want ads. Nothing but praises? I wonder what exactly he’s written about me. That I give good sex? I inwardly laugh at the thought of that being written and the look on any potential new boss’ face.

I wander over to my balcony and look out. When I scan the dirty street, Mr. Pettifor’s driver is seen sitting out front. Confused by his presence, I get dressed and venture outside.

I knock on his window and he rolls it down. “What are you doing here, Dante?”

“Mr. Pettifor insisted I sit watch outside your building. He doesn’t trust your neighbors or your location,” he answers in his Italian accent.

Well I’ll be damned. Is Mr. Pettifor jealous and concerned? No, surely not, and it’s wishful thinking on my part.

“This really isn’t necessary, Dante.  You can leave now,” I say in an attempt to dismiss him.

“No, Ms. Darcy. I have strict instructions from Mr. Pettifor and you know how he feels about his wishes being disobeyed,” he replies with wide, exaggerated eyes.

“Yes, I do. Very well then. Can I bring you something – a soda or a snack?”

He smiles and nods his head appreciatively, “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, Ms. Darcy.”

I go back upstairs and make a sub sandwich for Dante and take it to him, along with a cherry cola and some reading material. He thanks me profusely and I go back inside, and call it a night.

I wake later than usual and dress quickly, not wanting to be any later for work than I already am. Poor Dante looks a wreck and I apologize for him having wasted his time watching over me. When I arrive at the office, Mr. Pettifor and Amelie are nowhere to be seen. There’s a sticky note on the computer stating Mr. Pettifor  is taking Amelie to be fitted for some new clothes. My heart sinks. So it’s real. I’m really being replaced. Being cried out from the previous day, I sink into the office chair and busy myself with the menial chores left for me to do.

Lunch time arrives and still, no Mr. Pettifor or Amelie. I call out for lunch so that I don’t miss any important calls for Mr. Pettifor and eat in the office alone. Late in the afternoon, Amelie’s sweet childlike and light-hearted laughter can be heard coming up the hallway. When she enters the office, she looks spectacular and her face is glowing with happiness. I immediately feel guilty for my horrible jealousy and envy.

“You look amazing, doll face,” I tell her.

She does a twirl in the middle of the office, showing off her new frock and heels.

“Mr. Pettifor really has the most fantastic sense of style!” she shrieks.

“Yes, he does,” I nod.

Mr. Pettifor comes in a few short moments later; carrying a bag of what I can only assume is more goodies for Amelie. He sees me and freezes in his spot, his face going pale.

“I didn’t think you would really show up today,” he tells me.

“Why wouldn’t I? I told you I would stay the rest of the week. Do you not want me here? Are you really so eager to be rid of me?” I ask, hurt by his words and expression.

“God, no.  After they way you left yesterday, I just assumed that…”

Amelie’s face blanches at me and Mr. Pettifor’s uncomfortable exchange and she quickly excuses herself to the restroom.

“I see,” I say, standing and grabbing a small box to pack my things. I guess he and Amelie really will do fine without me.

“Ms. Darcy, wait…”

“I’ve finished writing up some things for doll face, er, I mean Amelie…” I stutter and Mr. Pettifor smiles slightly at my euphemism.

“You don’t have to leave right now. Please, I would like you to finish out the week,” he interjects. “I only took Ms. Davidson to be fitted for clothing because it seemed to me she couldn’t afford anything nice. If I had known you would be here today… I was just trying to be kind to her, that’s all. Please don’t read into this,” he says frantically as I pack my belongings.

I ignore his impassioned plea and grab the last of my things.

“Mr. Pettifor, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I am truly grateful for the opportunity to have served you. You’ve taught me so much,” I say, turning to face him and tearing up. I grip my box of mementos tightly for support.

“Please, please, Bella…”

“I… I…” I almost say the words that I’ve been denying for so long. Maybe if I say them, he’ll let me go. “I love you,” I whisper against my better judgment and I get the response I expected – a frightened look, followed by indifference.

“I see,” he quietly responds without emotion.

“Yes, now you do see why exactly it is that I must quit. Farewell, Xander, I’ll miss everything about you.” I say his name for the first time ever and tears run down my cheeks.

I push past him to leave, glancing back at him one last time, hoping against hope that he’ll stop me or call out to me, but he doesn’t. He remains standing lifeless and staring into the distance, and agonizingly silent.

Chapter 8

It’s been three months since my wretched and tearful goodbye to Mr. Pettifor. I long for his touch. I miss the sound of his voice. I yearn for continental breakfasts with him.

I’m only half-heartedly filing medical records when I hear my new manager’s voice behind me.

“Ms. Darcy, you’re doing this all wrong. Where are your thoughts today? Records older than two months get filed over here, remember?” she says sternly.

“Yes, Ms. McFarland,” I respond, staring down at the ruby ring on my middle finger.

She retreats, leaving me to my thoughts again. The terrified look on his face when I uttered those desperate words to him will haunt me forever, as will his emerald green eyes. I had been doing so well at pushing him out of my mind until I saw him on the news at some charity ball. He looked so dapper and charismatic in his dark grey tailored suit, although it was a little disconcerting that Amelie wasn’t on his arm. He entered my dreams again after that.

I’ve been meaning to text Amelie back. It’s terribly rude of me to leave her hanging, but I can’t bear the thought of having to hear about how well things are going between her and my CEO.

I’ve started taking some refresher courses at the community college in preparation of attending medical school next fall. It’s all still tentative as I gather the remaining references and letters of recommendation to send in with my application. I can’t seem to bring myself to ask Mr. Pettifor for another letter, even knowing how much his recommendation would mean to my acceptance into the program. A recommendation from someone so prominent would significantly increase my chances of being approved. I’ll just have to find another way.

My heart just isn’t into my work today. I get permission to leave early, feigning illness, and take the bus back to my new apartment. It’s in a much nicer part of town, though it would still be considered deplorable by Mr. Pettifor’s standards. Unable to shake myself of Mr. Pettifor, I change and decide to go for a jog.

The cool San Francisco spring air shocks my system back to reality, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, I feel worse because now the reality of my life without the man I love sinks in.

I find a nearby park bench, slump into it and began sobbing. I cover my face, not wanting passersby to see my current state of depression. 

I’m crying uncontrollably when I feel hot hands on my shoulders. Startled, I jump back, ready to pummel whatever stranger is manhandling me. When my eyes clear, I’m staring into the greenest and most haunting eyes on the face of this planet.

“What’s upsetting you, princess?” Mr. Pettifor asks, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

“I miss you so much,” I whisper, not giving a shit about my pride anymore. I half expect the same scared look that he gave me before, but instead, he smiles widely at me.

He seats himself next to me and tucks me into his arm. His masculine smell is intoxicating and I bury my face in his chest, wondering if this is all just another one of my vivid fantasies.

He pets my hair while I try to compose myself, his eyes watching me intently.

“So how is your new job?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shrug in response.

“I’m currently seeking a new personal assistant, if you’re interested,” he says mysteriously and looking at the landscape casually.

“What about Amelie?” I ask, saddened at the thought of her having lost her job.

“She’s moved on. It seems she and Mr. Johansson have a thing for each other and well, being the generous man that I am, I allowed her to go and work for him.”

My body straightens up and I turn to face him, remaining silent.

“I would love to work for you again, but I’m starting full-time classes very soon and… I wouldn’t be available…”

“Yes, I already know about that. I sent in a letter of recommendation regarding your application submission and I have it on good authority that you’ll be accepted,” he says with a proud look on his face.

“How?” I ask.

He taps his nose and winks at me playfully.

“I can assure you that I’m very flexible regarding your work schedule. I’m sure we can work something out. I simply can’t tolerate another annoying temp who knows nothing of my needs, so please accept my job offer.”

A small smile steals onto my face at the thought of being under Mr. Pettifor’s command again.

“You never let me finish telling how you were my first in many ways, Ms. Darcy.”

I never thought being called Ms. Darcy could sound so panty drenching sexy, but the way Mr. Pettifor brandishes my name makes my insides melt.

“Tell me,” I reply.

“You were the first woman I took on my desk. You were the first woman I hired after having had sex with and the last, for that matter. You should know that it was never my intention to be with you in such an intimate way during our first visit. It was completely unplanned, but the way you moved, your beauty and grace, and the way your body responded to my touch and command… I’m not a man who is easily denied, Ms. Darcy, and I had no choice but to submit to my wants just as you had no choice but to submit to my will. It was against my better judgment to hire you after our interlude.  In all honesty, I hired you that day because after having been with just that one time, I wanted an excuse to see you every day and any chance I could, and giving you a job was the only way I knew how to achieve that. I allowed you into my life knowing there would probably be repercussions. I kept waiting for them, but they never came. You just kept giving me more and more of yourself, giving yourself over to me completely. You were the first woman to ever profess your love for me, Bella. I never expected things to go this far with you. I never expected to miss you so much. I never anticipated needing you so much. I never expected to fall in love with you. Do you know why I put this ring on this particular finger?” he asks, holding my hand and touching the ruby ring.

I shake my head, my mind spinning out of control from his confession.

“Because it’s next to your wedding finger and I’ve always felt, deep down, that we had that kind of commitment, even if it wasn’t spoken.

I audibly gasp at his confession and the completely sincere look on his face. “You hurt me,” I say softly, thinking about Leggy Blonde.

“Svetlana?” he asks.

I nod yes.

“Ms. Darcy, let me be very clear about this - I did not have sex with her,” he states firmly.

“But I heard you,” I answer quickly.

“You’re mistaken. What you heard was not me having sex with her. What you heard was a desperate attempt from an ex-girlfriend to capture my attention. She forced me to watch her make herself cum.”

I’m stunned into silence as my mind races.

“But you were smiling and laughing with her. You never smile and laugh with me,” I reply sadly.

“I was merely being polite. But you’re right, I didn’t smile and laugh near enough, especially considering how happy you made me. It’s just the tough façade I’m so accustomed to showing everyone. I want you to know, I haven’t been with anyone since being with you that first time, Ms. Darcy. I couldn’t be with another woman if I tried. You’ve ruined me for other women with your submissive way. No woman has ever wanted to serve me so completely and so willingly. Can’t you see that you’ve decimated me completely? I simply can’t take no for an answer from you. I won’t. My work is suffering from your absence and my heart is crushed. Tell me what it will take to get you back and it’s yours. Tell me, Bella. I’ll give you anything…” he says desperately, his eyes glossy.

“Mr. Pettifor, you’re the only thing I want,” I murmur.

“Call me Xander. I love the way your mouth looks when you say it.”

I take a deep breath and utter his name for the second time, “Xander…”

He closes his eyes tightly and his breathing halts.

“I was such a jackass for not responding to you when you told me you loved me. I knew then that I loved you, too, but fear of the unknown and my pride stood in the way. Please forgive me, Bella”

“Oh, Xander, I love you.”

I latch onto him fiercely, his response mirroring mine.  Picking me up into his arms, he carries me to his car and tenderly places me inside. Dante looks at me through the rear-view mirror and nods his head and smiles.

Turning to face Xander, I ask, “How did you know I was here?”

“I’ve know where you’re at every minute of every day since you quit me,” he answers, moving close to me. “Dante, please leave for a moment.”

The look in his eyes is animalistic. Dante steps out and as soon as the car door closes, Xander’s hands are all over me, his mouth crushing onto mine and his warm wet tongue pushing past my lips.

He pulls back and breathes into my mouth, “I’ve spent 96 excruciating days, 7 miserable hours and…” he quickly glances at his watch, “36 agonizing minutes without you, my beautiful princess. Don’t ever quit me again.” 

“I didn’t quit you; I just couldn’t bear the thought of you with another woman.”

He smiles as his hands find their way into my running pants, his long fingers slipping into my pulsating core. I moan out and he grabs my face, pulling me close to him. 

“Oh, Mr. Pettifor,” I pant while his fingers push deep inside of me.

“God, I love you, Bella. Don’t ever try to quit me again, I absolutely won’t allow it,” he growls, pulling my pants down and burying his face in my pussy.

I’m so desperate for his touch, it only takes a few minutes before his hot skilled mouth and expert fingers bring me the release I’ve missed. I scream loudly and tug his hair, thrusting my hips up and smothering him. He gasps for breath when I release him, the look in his eyes smoldering. I quickly sit up, push him down into the long back seat and reciprocate his royal oral treatment, lavishing his cock with my hungry mouth. He writhes beneath me, pulling my head down onto his trembling shaft and gagging me. He, too, cums quickly and I swallow every last drop of his manjuice, not wanting any of it to be wasted.

“Why didn’t I allow that before?” he asks, dreamily and out of breath.

“Because you’re a stubborn, arrogant, controlling alpha male,” I answer as I pull my pants back on.

“Yes, perhaps, but I’m your stubborn, arrogant, controlling and extremely handsome, alpha male,” he murmurs with a devilish grin on his face.

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor, you are.”

Epilogue

I wake to the sound of my CEO snoring loudly. He looks stunning when he’s asleep, his black hair with silver streaks messy and in his eyes. I push it back to get a better look at the man who loves me. Is this real? I pinch my nipple just to make sure and I shriek out, startling Xander. He springs up and looks around frantically.

“What the hell?” he asks, looking at me and rubbing the crusties out of his eyes.

“I apologize. I was just pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

He pulls me over to him and kisses me voraciously.

“You’re not dreaming, Ms. Darcy, aka, the soon to be Mrs. Pettifor. Now get dressed. You have a big day ahead of you and I don’t want you to be late or getting anything less than an A for your first day of surgical rounds.”

“Yes, Sir,” I answer, getting out of bed quickly.

“And don’t forget about our dinner this evening with Ms. Davidson and Mr. Johansson,” he calls after me as I head into the bathroom.

Showered and dried, I go into the bedroom to find a beautiful pencil skirt and ruffled stark white blouse laid out for me. When I lift the skirt to put it on, the flowery panties from Italy are lying underneath. I giggle uncontrollably at Xander’s wicked sense of humor. I dutifully put them on and finish dressing myself.

I’m in the kitchen making myself a latte and Xander an espresso when he buzzes over the intercom from his office.

“Ms. Darcy, I’m ready for my continental breakfast.”

Yes! My favorite part of the day.

“Yes, Mr. Pettifor.”