Power Play: A Black & White Collection Story Page 5

  She was mere seconds from having an orgasm when he withdrew his fingers, his hand resting on her sore ass.

  “Fuck you!” she yelled. “Finish it.”

  He chuckled and she started to push up, ready to do violence to the man if he didn’t stop teasing her. She needed to come.

  A firm hand against her upper back held her to the desk. “No,” he said, his voice full of authority, his tone proving he wasn’t finished claiming his prize. “I haven’t given you permission to stand up.”

  “I don’t need your permission.”

  “The hell you don’t. Don’t make me gag you, Frankie.”

  She opened her mouth, her words the only thing she had left to fight with.

  “I mean it.” He punctuated his warning with a finger in her ass. She reared up, but he continued to hold her upper body against the hard top of the desk. His finger, wet from her juices, explored her ass and she couldn’t help thinking his touch felt almost clinical, like he was on some damn fact-finding mission.

  “Why don’t you stop messing around and start using that finger like you mean it?”

  He froze and for a moment, she feared she’d pushed him too far. She really didn’t want to be gagged.

  “You might want to be careful what you ask for, Carlyle.” Despite his words, his tone proved he was playing with her, tormenting her for his own enjoyment. The worst part of this game, she decided, was how much she loved it. Her body was on fire, her skin sensitive to the touch. He’d managed to trigger every sexual need in her in one fell swoop. It was frightening, incredible.

  His finger began to retreat from her ass and she clenched her muscles against his desertion before she could think better of it. Reed laughed lightly and she was torn between wanting to punch him in the face or knocking him to the floor and fucking the hell out of him. He continued pulling out until just the merest tip of his finger remained, then he pushed back in—hard.

  She grunted at the impact, not expecting the roughness of his touch. Over and over, he pounded into her ass and once again, she felt her climax approaching the breaking point.

  “No,” she cried, when he removed his finger for good.

  “Only good slaves get to come.”

  “Slave?”

  “You’ll call me master before this interlude is over.”

  She shook her head. “Hell will freeze over first.”

  “Get ready for the chill,” he warned her. While one hand remained on her back, holding her in place, she turned her head to see him rummaging through the top drawer of his desk. She snorted when she watched him pull out a tube of lubrication and a butt plug.

  “Odd things for an ad exec to keep in his desk.”

  He rubbed her back lightly. “I bought these the day after we made our bet.”

  “Cocky bastard.”

  He leaned over and placed a kiss near her ear. The sweet gesture jarred her more than anything else he’d done since claiming his prize. “I prefer to think of it as confidence.”

  She laughed lightly. “Wait until you see what I’ve got hidden in my desk drawer for my victory dance.”

  He rubbed his nose against her cheek and she tried to assimilate his mixed signals. The damn man constantly ran hot and cold with her. Sometimes she felt he was her fiercest enemy and then there were moments like this when she got a sense that he cared for her, even adored her. He was a conundrum she couldn’t solve and that fact drove her out of her mind.

  “I’m almost curious enough to let you win the next round just to see.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Oh no, you don’t. The rules of this bet stand. I’m not going to listen to a bunch of bullshit about I let you win when I kick your ass on the next campaign.”

  “I said almost.” He stood once more. “Having you at my mercy has just whetted my whistle for more.”

  “Don’t get used to this.”

  He slapped her ass once more and she jerked at the unexpected blow. He followed the smack up with two fingers plunging into her vagina. As quickly as that, her body responded. After a few thrusts, he stopped short once more. She pressed her forehead against the desk in frustration, fighting against the impulse to call him out for teasing her. She knew he was enjoying this game and she wasn’t about to let him know how much she needed relief.

  Something cold jarred her from her thoughts and she shivered as he rubbed the lube into her ass, working the slippery gel in with first one, then two fingers. She closed her eyes and fought against the impulse to groan when he began to push the butt plug into place. She’d toyed around with anal play before. She even owned her own plug, but Reed’s was larger than she was accustomed to and she had to take several deep breaths as he worked it in.

  “Okay?” he asked when it was fully seated.

  She nodded.

  “Answer me, Frankie. Out loud. Are you okay? Is the plug painful?”

  “No,” she said. “It feels fine.”

  She sensed her answer pleased him when he bent over her once more, his lips kissing the back of her head. “I want to kiss you.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s non-negotiable. I told you that.” As long as they continued to treat these fantasies as a game, Frankie could control her emotions, keep their relationship in a manageable compartment. The second he kissed her, all bets were off. She wasn’t ready for that. They were as compatible as oil and water and she wasn’t about to sign on for certain heartbreak at Reed Donovan’s hands.

  “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  She trembled at his words. She wanted him, wanted him so badly she worried about what she would do to have him.

  “Call me master.” His breath was hot against her ear as he spoke.

  She snorted. “In your dreams.”

  “Oh yeah, Frankie. In my wettest, horniest dreams. It’s just a word. Say it. Say it and I’ll shove my cock inside as hard and fast as you want.”

  Her mind was swimming over the idea of him taking her while the plug was still in her ass. No doubt he read that thought.

  “I’m leaving the plug in. You’re going to be doubly filled, doubly taken. Each thrust I make is going to feel like two cocks possessing your body, claiming you, owning you. Call me master. Just once and you can have it all.”

  She felt his hand working at the front of his pants and she was amazed to realize this whole time, he’d been fully dressed. She gasped when his cock brushed against the sensitive skin of her ass. It felt hot and hard and thick and long. Her mouth watered for more. For everything he promised.

  It was his fantasy—this Domination and submission thing—but suddenly it felt as if he’d ripped the dream straight from her most secret, most hidden place. Pulling it out into the light and offering it to her on a silver platter. Reed was leading her into fantasies she’d never considered before.

  He rubbed his cock along her slit, using her juices to ease his path. “Call me master. Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything you want, Frankie.”

  “Fuck me,” she whispered, her resistance shot. “Fuck me, master.”

  His hands moved like lightning as he donned a condom. Before she had time to consider or regret her words, he was there—inside her, pounding away at her aching, hungry flesh. He was giving her everything she wanted, everything she needed and more.

  She cried out, her fingers scratching the perfect surface of his desk. She liked that thought. Liked the idea of leaving him a tangible memory of this experience. God knew she’d never forget it.

  Soon, she felt her body move to a higher plane, a place she’d never seen, never knew existed and her words took on a life of their own as he slammed into her harder, faster.

  “Master, master, master, master.” The word became her mantra as he pushed her deeper into bliss, into an erotic paradise.”

  Her body trembled as an orgasm ripped through her. She yelled, but he didn’t give way, didn’t stop his gorgeous assault.

  “Again,” he demanded when she started to come down.


  She didn’t know if he meant for her to come or call him master once more, so she did both.

  “God, master,” she cried as another quick, sharp climax gripped her.

  He joined her in this fall, dropping to his elbows, surrounding her with his strength, his weight, his protection.

  She shivered as the final word passed through her subconscious. Protection? She didn’t need to be protected. She’d always scoffed at being coddled. She was an intelligent, independent woman. She didn’t need a man in her life.

  Her heart lurched on the word need.

  She might not need one, but as God was her witness, she suddenly wanted one.

  She wanted this one.

  Chapter Four

  Frankie leaned back in her office chair and sighed. She rubbed her weary eyes, wondering when she’d last looked away from the computer screen.

  Her cell rang. She picked the Droid up from her desk, looked at the caller ID and groaned. She briefly toyed with letting the call go to voice mail, but she’d put off talking to her mother long enough.

  She hit the send button. “Hi Mom.”

  “Happy Birthday, baby!”

  “Thanks. You’re about a month late.”

  “I’ve called you every week since the day, but I can’t ever seem to catch you when your phone is on.”

  Frankie felt more than a twinge of guilt at her mother’s words. She’d been avoiding her calls. Between starting the new job and the wager with Reed, she’d never felt mentally up for a conversation with her mother. Talking to Georgia Carlyle was taxing on the best of days.

  Frankie glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten p.m.

  “You’re up late.” Typically, her mother was in bed before nine.

  “Well, it was your father’s turn to host poker night, so I’ve been very busy. Who knew four men could eat and drink so much? I just finished cleaning up.”

  Frankie sighed. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s watching TV. He’s tired, poor dear.”

  She considered for one moment letting the conversation die there, then she ruined it and asked the question burning on her lips. “Did he help you clean up?”

  “Oh, Frannie.”

  Frankie pulled the phone away from her ear, knowing she wasn’t going to like anything her mother said that followed that cursed nickname. Her father, a complete and utter asshole, got his jollies out of controlling every aspect of her mother’s life. He told her what to wear, who she could hang out with, what to make for dinner every night. And her mother followed every command. To the letter.

  Frankie was surprised she’d made it to eighteen with any of her tongue left. God knew she’d spent every year since birth biting it in an attempt to stop from telling her father what she thought of him.

  “Listen Mom. I can’t talk long. I have a big presentation in the morning.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Frankie tried to block out the hurt in her mother’s voice. It was a sound she managed to provoke from the woman too often.

  “I was hoping to hear about your new job. How’s it going?” her mother asked.

  “It’s fine. Great. I’m actually sitting here right now in my huge, new office.”

  Her mother sighed loudly. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re still at the office? I wish you wouldn’t work so much. You’re not getting any younger, you know. Don’t you think it’s time you found yourself a nice young man, settled down and had some babies? Your father would like that.”

  Frankie fought to block out her mother’s words. The conversation was far too familiar. Unlike most normal fathers, her dear old dad didn’t harbor any pride for her accomplishments, insisting instead that she was wasting her life. In her dad’s mind, women weren’t supposed to aspire to jobs that belonged to men. He told her once she’d wasted her college education majoring in business. Women were suited for three jobs, according to Mr. Carlyle—teacher, nurse or housewife.

  Her patience in tatters, she realized why she’d been avoiding her mother’s calls. “Have to go, Mom. Bye. Love you.”

  She hung up before her mother could reply and as always, she felt remorse for being so short with her.

  She stood up and stretched, suddenly feeling like a caged cat. She refused to let her mother’s comments get to her. She’d long ago given up the hope that her parents would ever understand her, ever be proud of her.

  Turning, she glanced out the window, looked down at the cityscape below. For the first time in a long time, she was beginning to feel a sense of belonging. She looked toward Reed’s office and wondered if her fresh new outlook on life had something to do with him.

  Ordinarily, she would have put a wide berth between her and Reed Donovan simply because she wasn’t looking for anyone who reminded her of her father. It had been a major miscalculation on her part. She’d forgotten that sex and relationships didn’t have to go hand in hand. While she’d sworn off the marriage institution, eschewing a committed relationship in favor of her career, that didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in a few naughty liaisons every now and again.

  She was thirty years old and she’d achieved a major goal on the career front landing this job. Finally she had the time to explore her personal pleasures as well.

  She shut down her computer, grabbed her purse and started to head out. Frankie noticed the light under Reed’s door when she turned off the lights in her own office. She didn’t know why she was surprised. She was getting used to closing the joint down with him.

  It had been nearly two weeks since Reed had cashed in on his winnings from their wager. Mercifully, he’d been as happy to return to the status quo in regards to their unusual relationship as she was. There were too many things about the man that played with her mind, her libido, her sense of self. She’d never let a man fuck with her head like he did. Worst part was she knew he wasn’t even trying to play the typical dating games. There was no doubt in her mind that he was just as confused as she was. Sadly, there was little comfort in that thought.

  She walked to his door and quietly opened it. “Still here?”

  “Working on my proposal for Simply Lovely tomorrow. Needed to add a few finishing touches.”

  “Need some help?” she offered, walking in to the office.

  He grinned and turned off his computer. “Nope. Just finished. Hope you’re ready for my next fantasy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not this time, babe. I’ve got this bid in the bank.”

  He leaned against his chair and she couldn’t help but notice the tiredness under his eyes. She’d overheard him arguing with Brian earlier in the day. Obviously her new boss wasn’t pleased with the way she and Reed were approaching their partnership. She could tell it bothered him to fight with his uncle. “Everything okay between you and Brian?”

  He started to dismiss her question with a simple nod, but it quickly turned to a shrug. “Is anything ever okay with me and my uncle?”

  “I have to admit the two of you seem to have an odd relationship.”

  He lifted his arms, linked this hands behind his head. “Odd how?”

  She dropped down into the seat across from his desk. During the course of the past two weeks, she’d spent countless hours in this chair, the two of them just talking. Once Reed dropped the cocky façade he showed to the world, he was actually an interesting man to converse with. He was intelligent, insightful, even thoughtful.

  “It’s obvious there’s a deep respect between the two of you.”

  He snorted. “Respect? Try again, sweetheart. That’s definitely the wrong vocabulary word.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s not. You respect your uncle. Anyone can see that. And he respects you.”

  He started to contradict her words again, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

  “Let me finish. I’m not sure you see it, but I’ve watched Brian when the two of you are in the room together. He listens to what you say and if you don’t offer your opinion, which I have to say is pretty much next to never,
he asks you for it. I’m not saying he always agrees with everything you do or say, but he listens and he appreciates your comments.”

  Reed was silent when she finished speaking and she wondered for a moment if he’d even heard what she was saying.

  When he did finally respond, his words came slowly, as if he were measuring every one. “I think my uncle is one of the greatest men I’ve ever known. There’s very little of value I’ve learned about life, about business, that I didn’t learn simply by observing him. But you’re wrong, Frankie. I’ve recently come to the realization that I’m a disappointment to him.”

  “A disappointment?” She knew his words were wrong and she wondered how he could have come to such a terrible misunderstanding.

  “He sent me to London for nine months to play office manager rather than allowing me to do the job he hired me for. Then I come back to discover he’d hired the talented young upstart Frankie Carlyle. He didn’t hire us to be partners. He hired you to cover my back because he doesn’t think I have the talent to continue to succeed in this job. I figure I’m living on borrowed time.”

  She was shocked by his comments and overwhelmed by his erroneous thinking. How could he believe any of that? How could he not see what seemed so obvious to her? “That’s not true.”

  He shrugged and she knew from his perspective the conversation was over.

  “Reed. None of what you said is true.” She felt strongly about her beliefs, but the look on his face told her nothing she said would penetrate his damn hard head. When Reed latched onto something, he held on to it with the tenaciousness of a pit bull.

  Suddenly she understood the tiredness in his face, appreciated why he felt like he needed to work so hard. He was fighting to prove himself to his uncle.

  “Big day tomorrow,” she said, changing the subject to one she was sure he would welcome. No one enjoyed trash talk more than Reed Donovan.

  A grin broke on his face. “Wanna declare defeat now? Save all the muss and fuss tomorrow?”

  She leaned forward in her chair, giving him a bird’s eye view of her cleavage. “Nope. I’m going to relish every moment of watching you go down. Hmmm. Going down. I may need to work that into my victory lap.”