His Secret Desire - Part 1 (An Erotic Romance Serial Novel) (2 page)

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Sitting back down at my desk, I tried to look
at some spreadsheets before realizing that I had no idea what I had just read.
The shock of what had just happened to me was wearing off, giving way to a
piercing anxiety over my job. Why would the CEO want to see me if for no other
reason than to fire me for the rude comments I said in the cafeteria? Couldn’t
he have my boss fire me and save himself the trouble? Worse, what if he was so
offended that he wished to tell me in person that I could now consider myself
blacklisted from the corporate world altogether? Professionally destroyed. How
far was Strauss’s reach?
My mind raced. There were so many questions
with no reassuring answers. Yet through the fear, my mind returned to those
blue eyes. The strength of his chin touching my soft skin. Every thought of my
destroyed future was dominated by the thought of him.
My fingers caressing the taut skin on his
arms, tracing the veins up the forearm to his rigid bicep. Warm breath on my
neck as his hand slid down the small of my back. The smell of his skin with my
eyes closed. Tasting his lips as I stifled a cry for something more, something
indescribable yet so close to me.
Alexander Strauss. His torso shaped by hours
of pain and sweat, leading up to a chest that breathed with mine. Moved with
mine. Lead mine to feel that which it has never known it had yearned for. His
skin would be soft, stretched over muscle forged into stone. My hands would
slide up his legs, slowing as they reached the summit of him. I knew that as I
wrapped my hands around him his expression would not alter. He would remain
perfect in his composure.
An entire future wasted by a single, stupid
comment that I had only said to save face with a friend.
I would stand before him naked, without
restraint or inhibition. His arms would wrap around me, bringing me close to
him. Letting him inside of me, my breath would become his. His breath mine. We
would be one. In his perfection, I would know perfection, and we would lie
under a sun that hung in a sky as blue as his eyes.
I sat at my desk, lost in thoughts of
Alexander Strauss. More than anything, I wanted him. An uncomfortable longing
nestled itself between my legs, crying out for my undivided attention. Thoughts
of my destructive comment only furthered my lust for him. If not for my crass
comments, would he have stopped in the cafeteria to acknowledge me? Would I
have been so close to smell the faint hint of his cologne?
The clock on my desk sat before me like a
hangman’s noose. As the minutes sped into hours, I tried to calm myself down.
Yet as the hour of our meeting grew nearer, I could not decide just how I felt.
I covetously looked up pictures of the CEO, drinking them like drops of water
from an emptying canteen under a lethal desert sky. With every new picture I
checked my surroundings to make sure my actions went unnoticed. My heartbeat steadied,
but my longing only increased. With every picture I looked at, the sense that I
was looking at something secret, something private, intensified.
An alarm cut through my silence. It was time.

Chapter Two

I silenced the alarm. The clock read three-thirty. I wanted
to be right on time and I had no idea where Strauss’s office was, let alone
what part of the building it was even in. Strauss hadn’t told me where to go.
It would mean I would have to ask my boss.
When I stood up to leave my tiny cubicle, I
noticed almost everyone in the office was staring at
me. The looks on their faces was anything but
reassuring. They were watching a woman on death row walk to the electric chair.
I walked by them all, holding my head up high in defiance of the panic that
flowed through my veins. I was a picture of perfect calm, as though I was
completely at peace with what was going to happen to me.
In my boss’s office, his face was glued to a
computer screen. I politely interrupted him.
“Mr. Grander, where may I find Mr. Strauss’s
office,” I asked.
I could feel every pair of eyes trying to
penetrate the walls of his office. Every pair of ears attuned
to our discussion like a cat’s ears to the
scurry of mice.
“His office is on the top floor. Actually, it
is the top floor, but you’ll need a security escort just to reach his floor,
Samantha. I’ll call them up for you,” he replied. My sweet boss, Brian Grander,
trying to sound calm and collected. Consoling, even. He must know the death
that awaited me on the top floor of the building.
A security guard came right away, as though he
was waiting for me the entire time. I felt my face redden against my every wish
as he walked me to the elevator. If I was imagining every person in the office
staring at me before, I definitely wasn’t now. Even people unaware that I had
been personally summoned by the CEO to his office were now very aware that a
security guard was walking me to the elevator. It was an unusual sight. I tried
to seem chipper, excited even. Really, I just felt sick to my stomach.
We entered the crowded elevator, once more
stealing all the attention. The guard entered a number on a keypad below the
buttons in the elevator that I had never really noticed before. As we climbed
higher in the building, the elevator cleared out. We had reached the top floor,
or so I thought, when the guard entered yet another number on the keypad and
the doors closed. I felt the sensation of us climbing again. The elevator doors
opened and I walked out.
I was in a relatively small office with a
gorgeous wooden desk before me. A woman in her early fifties, a woman you could
tell was once incredibly beautiful, and aged gracefully, looked up from behind
the desk. Next to her desk, two doors loomed large. The main entrance to his
office. I heard the elevator doors close behind me and when I turned around the
security guard was gone.
“Samantha Dubois, I presume?” asked the
receptionist.
“Yes, I’m Samantha. Alexander Strauss told me
to come to his office at four p.m.” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
A large metal clock, artfully tasteful, hung on the wall behind the
receptionist’s desk. It was four p.m. exactly. I felt a little reprieve of
relief. I was on time.
“He did indeed. He’s expecting you. You may go
in.” And with that, her attention to me was severed completely. Her eyes
lowered and it was though I ceased to be in the room.
I walked to the doors and stood before them.
They opened for me as though I had mentally commanded them to do so. Alexander
Strauss stood there, having opened the door. He ushered me in.
As I walked in, I brushed by his arm briefly.
A surge of electricity moved through me and every hair on my body stood on end.
Immediately that longing between my legs returned, demanding that the tension
be released from my body. I was so close in that moment that I could turn and
grab him. I pushed back the thought of embracing him and walked in the office.
I regained my composure, but only for a moment
before I felt myself lost in wonder immediately. The office was massive. The
floors were a sleek stone that I could only guess as some sort of marble. A
panorama of windows showed the entire city landscape. A sun that had just begun
to enter its descent hung above the other buildings in the city. We were
looking down on almost every single other building. Before me was a sleek black
conference desk that seemed to stretch for miles. Luxurious office chairs that
each looked more expensive than my college tuition were tucked under the desk,
waiting to be sit in by powerful executives, investors, and shareholders.
I looked around, taking in the office not by
its singular furnishings but trying to let its entirety settle in my eyes. It
was sparsely furnished, deliberately so. A few paintings, all abstract, hung
against the walls. There were no plants. Everything was sleek and smooth.
Clean, precise, without flare but with an edge that screamed authority and
intelligence. Various leather chairs and a few couches were strewn about to
give certain areas of the office a casual relaxed feeling, although too
perfectly arranged to suggest that they were there by chance.
Every single thing had its place. The energy
flowed between them magnificently. The entire office was art in and of itself.
Yet the heart of the office was clearly the desk. Every arrangement in the
office pointed towards the desk in some way. All things flowed to the desk.
Wherever you were in the room, you were never the center. The center was the
desk, and standing before the heart of the office was Alexander Strauss,
leaning back against the desk casually, his legs crossed before him.
“Hello Samantha, thank you for coming,” he
said, his voice neutral.
“You’re welcome. Your office is...it’s
incredible,” I said, immediately regretting it. It was a stupid thing to say. I
blushed and a pang of panic hit my chest.
“Please, sit.” He extended his arm to a chair
that was only a few feet away from him. Almost too close for how huge the
office is. I sat down, thanking him politely. I consciously kept my eyes on his
face. They wanted to crawl down to where his legs meet. To where his legs are
pushing up a bulge in his pants.
He pushed himself off the desk and in a brief
moment a small scent of his cologne found its way to my nose delicately. It was
a scent I’ve never smelled before. A scent that I could imagine drowning in
with ecstasy.
He walked around his desk and sat behind it,
his eyes never leaving mine.
“Samantha Dubois. Twenty-three years old.
Employed by Strauss Engines as a clerical assistant for the past three months.
Temporary status.” His voice slowed slightly when he said “temporary status”,
the emphasis subtle but clear. Another slice of terror threatened my composure
but I remained unshaken outwardly. “You’ve held numerous temp jobs. Why?”
“It was the only work that I could find. I’ve
been hoping to work my way up the corporate ladder. Build my success over time
with hard work.”
“A very noble idea indeed. The American Dream
personified,” he said. I tried to detect whether I could hear sarcasm in his
voice and I decided that he was being genuine. “It must have been hard, with
your parents and all.”
I choked a little bit at the mention of my
parents and tried to hide it. “Yes, I suppose it was,” I said. It was all I
could think to say. There was no change on his face.
“Tell me, what do you know about me?” Strauss
asked. Every word flowed out of his mouth like lyrics in a song, yet his voice
never wavered or gave any sign of inflection. I watched his lips part in slow
motion and wanted them on me. Everywhere on me.
“I really don’t know much about you, to be
honest. Only some office rumors and what you can read on the internet. I hadn’t
even seen a picture of you until today,” I said.
“Extrapolate on the rumors for me. Tell me
what you think they really point to.”
I paused for a moment. I could try to ham up
the good parts of the rumors, appeal to his ego.
One look at him and I could tell he was too
smart for that. Anything but honesty would undo me. If I tried to lie or suck
up to him, he would destroy me. And when I really thought about it, I would
rather walk out of this building today with a destroyed career but an intact
sense of integrity. I would not grovel or lie. I breathed in deep, slowly
exhaling. A slight smile cut through Strauss’s unyielding stoicism.
“You have very high expectations, maybe even
astronomical. You drive everyone around you so hard that you break people who
can’t handle it. And when they do break, you get a personal satisfaction out of
it,” I said. “Also, I’ve heard the way the women in the office talk about you.
They all want you and they seem to think you could have whatever and whoever
you want.”
“Do you think these rumors are true?” Strauss
asked. He crossed his hands. I covetously drank in the sight of them, the
pleasure of sight a poor substitute for the feeling  of those hands
gripping me. Holding onto me until they had had their fill of my flesh.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Why do you think I’m such an...” he said,
pausing for an agonizingly long moment to breathe in, “arrogant prick?”
The reason he brought me up here hung in the
air like a deadly noose for me to walk up to and hang myself with. My ribcage
cried out the pain my heart was inflicting against it with every panicked beat.
Breathe. This will be over soon.
“Before today, I had never even seen you.
Practically none of the employees have seen you in person. You own this company
and all these people’s lives depend on you and you are too good to even grace
them with your presence once.”
As the words came out of me, I could feel my
anxiety and fear giving way to anger. I was done for, sure, but I was going to
tell this rich-boy my true feelings. I would tell him off in a way everyone in
his life was too scared to. I would be a bitter memory of his one day. The bitch
who refused to beg for her job.
“It must be easy for a man who has so much to
be arrogant. A man whose dad left him not only an inheritance, but an entire
company! How could such a man possibly understand what it’s like to struggle?
What it’s like to fear that one day you might not have a job. You were born the
son of a king. How could you not be arrogant?”
Strauss stood up from behind his desk. He
walked up to me and stood a foot before me. My words still lingered in the air;
he had said nothing in reply. I felt my anger swell even more when I thought he
was trying to intimidate me. Then my eyes fell to his crotch and my anger was
gone. Through his pants I could see he had an erection. It stood out against
his legs, a figure of everything that I had yearned for since our encounter at
lunch.
I flustered. “Oh, I’m uh. I know I must
have...I know my job is lost, right?” I asked stupidly. My thoughts were
draining out of me as I drank in the sight of his hard penis so close to me. I
rose up and kicked the chair back clumsily. “I’m sorry, I should go.”
I turned around to flee. The confusion had
struck me like a slap across the face when I saw he was hard. But as I muttered
more apologies and tried to leave, his hand grabbed my arm firmly and swung me
around. Our eyes met and I knew that I was his. He pulled me to him swiftly and
our lips joined, teeth pressing against the inside of my mouth. His tongue
slipped inside my mouth against mine and my knees gave way.
I was limp in his arms, wrapped in his strength.
Yet I did not fall a single inch. He held me firm and pulled me closer. I could
feel his cock against me. Its warmth radiating out of his jeans. I wanted him
inside my mouth, inside me. I wanted to feel him slide in and out. I wanted to
taste him. I wanted to taste his orgasm as it racked through his body in
ecstatic convulsions. I wanted. The want filled me with an emptiness only he
could fill.
He stood back from me, his eyes a magnet from
which I could not turn away. His hands ran through my hair and wrapped around
it. He pulled it and I felt my head go back as I fell to my knees, now an inch
away from him. My eyes widened at the sight of his cock so close, despite it
still being behind cloth.
“Look at me,” he said, the authority of his
voice making me quiver. “Always.”
My hands worked on his pants quickly and tore
through the zipper and button. They dropped away and the extension of his
perfect cock stood before me. My mouth opened and I felt his hands push on the
back of my head as he slid down my throat. I worked my tongue on his shaft
slowly, feeling every inch of him as he pushed me further, much further than I
thought I could possibly go. He held me like that, him deep in my throat, my
eyes cast up towards his. His face remained calm. His blue eyes tore through
every particle of me as he began to slide out of my throat.
Again and again I drank him in as deep as it
could go, and each time it seemed he plunged deeper into my throat. I could
feel my panties soaked with the want of him entering me. He pulled his cock out
of my mouth and I licked the head slowly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
All thought was gone. Only this moment existed.
I felt myself float up. I was on my feet
again. Strauss’s hand shot up and grabbed my face firmly.
“Now close your eyes,” he commanded. There was
no choice. Darkness swam over my vision and his hand released my face. “Strip.
Slowly.”
I took off every piece of clothing so slowly I
felt tormented. I wanted him quickly inside of me. The passion of our tryst heightened
by the sheer force of the moment. With my eyes closed, I peeled off layer after
layer and yet no doubt or restraint entered my thoughts. I needed him to fuck
me. The words cried out in my mind. More than anything, I wanted him to fuck
me.