The office was large and spacious, with a large dark mahogany desk dominating the room. Gemma had expected some elderly Japanese man, but the man who stood up from behind the desk as she entered definitely wasn’t what she was expecting. He was tall and broad shouldered with dark hair and dark eyes, with the haughty arrogance of English aristocracy, and the kind of smile that could be sexy if it wasn’t so damn intimidating, so chilling.
He was very sexy.
‘Ms Madison, I’m Lord Chatterton, how good of you to come.’
Like she’d had any choice, Gemma thought as she listened to his complaints. They were valid, and as she assured him that they wouldn’t happen again, as she offered him discounts and various other incentives to keep his business, she realised that he wasn’t actually listening to what she said; he was looking at her legs. They looked good, she knew, in her tight pencil skirt and silk stockings. She’d dressed this morning thinking of Sam, but it looked like it wasn’t to be wasted now, as Lord Chatterton blatantly looked her up and down appreciatively.
She caught his gaze, and he licked his lips, smiling.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ he asked, walking over to the drinks cabinet, opening it to display an impressive array of expensive looking bottles. ‘Red, I think, a merlot perhaps?’
Red wine made Gemma sleepy and slow, but she still nodded; there was something about this man that made it difficult to disagree with him, a presence that commanded compliance.
As he turned away she quickly she undid another two buttons on her blouse, low enough to show a hint of her red bra; if she needed to flirt her way out of this mess it could be an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon.
As he passed her a glass and sat back down Gemma realised that she could see an erection stirring.
Lust flooded through her.
Bad idea, thought Gemma, Sam was mad enough with her already and starting something with a disgruntled customer was hardly going to improve things.
Despite that, as he started flirting with her, talk about the hotel suddenly becoming laden with innuendo, she flirted back, slowly stroking her neck and playing with her hair.
But she could still hardly believe it when he started stroking his hardness through his trousers, his conversation not even faltering.
She was flustered as she drained her drink, trying to summon the courage to say something.
This couldn’t be right, could it, even if it were turning her on?
‘Lord Chatterton, I don’t think this is appropriate,’ she told him, but even as she said the words she was watching his cock grow, wondering what it would be like to have him stroke her that way, to feel his thick cock herself.
‘I think it’s entirely appropriate Ms Madison. Now why don’t you make me and your boss a little happier by undoing that blouse a little further.’
She knew she should go, should leave right now, but there was something about him that had her enthralled.
She undid another button.
‘Now stand up and bend over my desk,’ he commanded, and she blushed immediately.
Protests crowded her mind, she was a thirty-four year old successful woman, a manager of one of the top hotels in the country, he couldn’t talk to her like that! There might have been a problem with his booking, but all he was due was an apology, nothing more.
And the look on his face told her exactly what else he was expecting.
She’d never had anybody else look at her like that, so unashamedly lustful, eyes filled with nothing but sex, looking so damn horny.
Despite herself she shivered.
‘I said bend over,’ he repeated, and this time she did, swallowing the words she’d meant to speak and meekly moving over to his desk.
She bent over.
A moment later he was behind her, caressing her arse through the thin material of her skirt. He moved his hands lower, stroking the back of her thighs, and she heard the catch in his breath as he realised she was wearing stockings and suspenders.
Gemma felt herself flooding with desire, and moved her legs wider apart.
She felt him tug at her skirt, and without saying a word she moved his hips so that he could pull it up more easily. The silence only made the sensations more erotic, as if speaking too were forbidden.
The whole thing felt so deliciously forbidden.
Beneath her skirt she was wearing flimsy French knickers and suspenders, and as he saw them she felt him move closer to her, felt his cock twitch as it grew harder yet.
He had her so confused she didn’t know whether she felt more scared or more turned on, but the ache between her legs was so strong she knew she couldn’t walk away, so strong that she knew she’d do whatever he demanded.
Then he spanked her.
It was only once, not hard but enough to make her bum tingle, to make her wriggle away slightly. She stopped as he placed his hand on the back of her neck to hold her down; it wasn’t hard enough to stop her moving away but still she complied with his unspoken demand.
I should say something, Gemma thought, there could be anyone outside his office, anyone could walk in on us like this, I’m letting this man I don’t even know spank me.
He waited for her to say something, for her to burst into outraged tears or worse, outraged swearing, for some complaint, but she said nothing. Her passivity was as much of a turn on as the situation, and he felt his cock pulsing with heat.
He spanked her again, his cock feeling twice the size of normal, hard and heavy.