Making a Scene

Amy Valenti

Copyright 2013
Amy Valenti

Smashwords
Edition

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* * * *

Figuring him
out…

Returning to
work after her erotic fairytale weekend of opulence and submission
seems frustratingly mundane to Nell West, but she’s hopeful about
her newfound submissive relationship with the CEO’s gorgeous son,
Marc Cassidy. It seems that Marc can’t get enough of her, either,
but after a private moment in his office is interrupted by his
hot-tempered father, she hardly sees him for a week. When he
discusses his father with her, Marc—usually so Dominant—almost
seems afraid. What’s going on behind the scenes in the Cassidy
family?

Pushing her
boundaries…

After their
long week of separation, Marc tells Nell that he wants to try a
more intense scene with her. Despite her insecurities about the
mysterious blonde woman who keeps showing up around him, Nell
agrees to the strict guidelines her Dom sets for the evening. But
can she endure all he’s asking of her, physically and mentally,
when she has so many unanswered questions?

Chapter
One

Dear
Diary,

It’s Monday,
and I’ve never been so bored in my life. After my weekend with
Marc, getting back to my apartment and resuming my normal routine
was weird. How do you go from wearing—then being stripped out of—a
six-thousand-dollar, one-of-a-kind dress to doing the dishes in
your tiny apartment, alone, without feeling a little down about
it?

I’m managing
to hold my own at work today, but part of me can’t keep my mind out
of Marc’s office. I don’t know if he’s up there or doing something
at one of the other company sites in town, but I just want to see
him, to convince myself that the past three days weren’t some kind
of fever dream or something…

Maybe he’s
with the blonde woman he was talking to on Saturday night. Oh, god.
Don’t even go there, Eleanor.

Now I’m even
talking to myself in Marc’s voice. I’ve got it bad…

****

“Hey, Stella.
Do you mind if I grab Nell for a few minutes? I’ll have her back to
you within the hour.”

My heart
pounded, but I made sure to do nothing more than glance up casually
at the sound of my new Dom’s voice.

“Sure,”
Stella, my supervisor, agreed easily. “Nell, will you still be good
with finishing up that proposal by the end of the day?”

I threw a
quick look at the clock and bit my lip. “I’ll do my best. I can
work some overtime if I need to.”

Satisfied,
Stella returned to her work, and I headed over to Marc’s side as he
stood in the doorway. “What do you need, Sir?”

His lips
twitched, and he stepped back enough that I could pass through the
door. “Just a few things that can’t really wait. I’m sorry to pull
you out of your usual role like this.”

I shrugged
oh-so-nonchalantly. “Anytime.”
No, really…anytime.

The door to
the open-plan office swung closed behind us, putting Stella out of
earshot, but we stood in the hallway in silence, not looking at
each other, watching the numbers on the elevator panel as it headed
to our floor. I fidgeted, trying to convince myself that I was
expecting more than I’d get from Marc this afternoon. Just because
he and I had something going on outside the office, that didn’t
mean he’d disrupt both of our schedules for a quickie…did it?

The elevator
doors opened, revealing an empty interior, and Marc let me step
inside first before following. He hit the button for the floor on
which his office was located, and the doors slid smoothly shut.

The next thing
I knew, he was pressing me back against the elevator wall with his
entire body, tilting my head back to give me a hot, intense kiss. I
sighed happily against his lips and surrendered, wrapping both arms
around his neck and savouring the taste of his talented tongue.

Marc broke off
to rest his forehead against mine, and I gazed up into his dark
eyes with a mental swoon.

“I’ve been
dying to do that all day, my sub.”

I couldn’t
help it. I grabbed his head and kissed
him
this time, and he
gave a low, approving growl as he dug his fingers into my hips and
kissed back. Only the soft
ding
of the elevator as it
reached its destination was enough to tear us apart.

In the
reception area outside Marc’s office, I glanced around for the
assistant I’d yet to actually lay eyes on. “Is your PA still on her
honeymoon?”

“Apparently
they decided to extend it a week, but personally, I think she’s
gearing up to quit.” With a gentle, yet firm grasp on the back of
my neck, he guided me past the empty desk and into his office.
“Which I can’t bring myself to care about, because her absence
means I can do whatever I like to you in here, and she won’t hear
any of it. Kneel.”

I blinked at
the sudden command, but automatically dropped to my knees in front
of the leather couch in the corner, where he’d had me kneel on
Friday, that first time he’d ordered it.

“You’re a fast
learner, Eleanor. I like that. Are you comfortable?” He sat down on
the couch and ran his hand through my hair.

I nodded,
leaning my head against his knee and letting myself drop into the
state of perfect compliance kneeling for him could send me into.
“Yes, Sir,” I murmured.

He reached
behind one of the cushions on the opposite side of the couch, and I
smiled at the sight of the play collar I’d been getting used to
wearing for scenes. A pair of wrist cuffs dangled from his finger,
connected by a short, detachable chain, and as I watched he
unclipped them from each other.

“Hold out your
hand.”

By the time
Marc had finished fastening the collar and cuffs around my throat
and wrists, I was a divine mix of anticipation and utter calm.

“You look so
good on your knees,” he said, grabbing a fistful of my hair and
tugging my head back, using just enough force to make me gasp.

He kissed me
again—slowly, hungrily—then sat back just as I was about to try
sliding my hand into his lap. I bit back a whimper of
disappointment, eyeing the prominent ridge in his pants, and he
chuckled, watching me squirm and clearly enjoying it.

“I wanted to
talk to you about something.”

That took my
attention off my damp panties and the pounding of my pulse for a
moment. I watched Marc, curious to know exactly what he was
thinking.

“Remember me
telling you about the play parties I used to throw?” He tugged on
the ring of my collar, guiding my head to rest against his knee
again, and began to stroke my hair.

I closed my
eyes and immediately began to drift. It had only taken his
fastening my collar around my neck to put me in the right
mindset—kneeling at his feet with his fingers combing through my
hair, I was lost, ready to do anything for him. “Yes, Sir.”

Before either
of us could say anything else, the phone on Marc’s desk rang. I
jumped as if I’d been stung, remembering we were still in his
office, no matter how secluded it was from passersby. Marc took a
moment to kiss the top of my head in reassurance, then stood up and
made his way over to the desk, sighing.

“Cassidy,” he
said into the phone.

From my spot
on the floor, I watched him focus, his demeanour turning from
Dom—relaxed, but with a predatory edge—to professional in a matter
of an instant. He wasn’t quite as sexy this way, but as he grabbed
a pen and scribbled a few things down in a notepad on the desk, the
lock of hair that always seemed to fall into his eyes did exactly
that, and I couldn’t help but smile. Whenever that happened, I
ached to push it back from his face and kiss him all over.

Probably
not appropriate submissive behaviour
, I reminded myself,
looking down at my lap before he could catch me staring at his fine
ass or gazing at him like a lovestruck teenager.

As the call
went on, though, I couldn’t resist just one more look. Raising my
eyes, I found his appreciative gaze was on me, even though he was
still talking to whoever was on the other end of the line. A heated
flush crept up my neck and over my face, and I squirmed a little
before I realised it, seeking to ease the tingle of desire between
my legs but only succeeding in increasing it.
Oh, that’s
good…

Unable to
resist, I did it again.

Marc raised an
eyebrow as if to insinuate that he knew exactly what I was up to. I
held myself still with an effort, but by the time he’d finished his
call my pulse was racing again. He set the phone down in its cradle
and made a couple more notes in silence, without looking at me. I
had a feeling he was focusing on me with every other sense,
though—just drawing out the moment because he could. Proving he was
in control, not that I needed the reminder.

The pen
clattered to the desk, and I closed my eyes and straightened my
posture as his measured tread across the carpet drew closer.

“Don’t think I
didn’t see that, Eleanor. You were wriggling, weren’t you?” His
voice was low and amused.

“Yes, Sir.
Sorry.”

“When you’re
wearing that collar, I dictate what stimulation that pussy of yours
gets—do you understand me?” There was a very slight edge to his
voice that made me yearn to obey.

I stuck with a
safe answer. “I understand, Sir.”

He ran his
finger over the play collar at my throat, reminding me of its
delicious presence. “Do you know how difficult it was to
concentrate on that phone call with you kneeling there, trying to
pleasure yourself without me noticing?”

I bit my lip,
not sure how to answer.

“Are you wet,
Eleanor?”

I whispered an
affirmative, knowing I was blushing.

“Tell me what
you want me to do to you.”

The teasing
tone to his voice made me melt. “I want you inside me, Sir.”

Marc cupped my
breast through my bra and pinched the nipple softly, then hard
enough to make me cry out. I didn’t realise I’d wriggled again
until he yanked me to my feet by the hair. Gasping at the twin
pains—in my scalp and my breast—that pulsed in sync with the needy
throb of my clit, I let him steer me over to the corner of the
room.

“Face the
wall.”

I did,
trembling a little. What was he about to do?

Marc reached
up under my skirt, but instead of the intimate touch I’d been
expecting, he yanked down my panties instead. “Stand with your legs
apart and your hands behind your neck.”

I got into
position, stepping out of my thong in the process, and sighed
softly at the sensation of air hitting my aroused pussy. This was
all still so new to me, but I loved it.

“Wider.” Marc
kicked at one of my shoes, forcing me to widen my stance until my
thigh muscles began to burn. In this position, there was no way I
could generate enough friction to pleasure myself.

Damn him!

“Now stay
there.”

I lowered my
head in acquiescence, unsure if I was allowed to speak. Probably
not—better to err on the side of caution.

Behind me, I
could hear Marc returning to his desk, and the fact that I was
being disciplined began to set in.
I could be back at my desk
getting some work done right now. If I’m going to spend time in
Marc’s office, shouldn’t it be doing something fun? This isn’t
fair!

“I know you’re
cursing me in your mind right now,” he said from across the
room.

I gritted my
teeth and kept silent to avoid incriminating myself.

“We’ve talked
about punishments before, but this is the first time I’ve had to
give you a real one. And this is only a light one, because I know
you didn’t do it deliberately.”

My legs were
really starting to ache, and I fought the urge to bring my legs
closer together. Instead, I clenched my hands into fists and tried
to concentrate on Marc’s voice instead.

He began to
walk back towards me, his voice approaching slowly. “You’re mine,
Eleanor, and that means you abide by my rules when you’re wearing
my collar. Obey me, and I’ll reward you. Disobey, and you’ll be
punished.”

Not for the
first time, I despaired that the submissive side of me seemed to
think this was entirely reasonable. Where did my assertive side go
at times like this? I wanted to yell at him that I belonged to
myself, that he couldn’t control me…yet here I was following his
orders, with my panties on the floor at my feet and my hot, wet
pussy begging for friction.