V E R A
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Sitting in front of my mirror and looking at myself, the only thing I could notice was how sleep deprived I looked.
I hadn't slept more than two hours last night as all I could think about was the fact that Damien wanted to have a conversation with me. Having to be at work in less than an hour, I showered and quickly got ready before heading out the door and to the museum.
As the cab pulled up to the front of the museum steps, I paid my fare and got out, straightening out my clothes before walking up.
Reaching the top, Cordelia had been standing at the entrance with a smile on her face.
"You're back!" I exclaimed, running up to her and kissing her on the cheek.
"After being surrounded by misogynistic, uptight businessmen for the past two weeks, I'm finally glad to be back in your presence, ma chérie." [my darling]
"Aside from the barbaric men you've experienced, you'll have to tell me all about Toulouse. I'd love to travel outside of Paris whenever I'm not so busy." I confessed, giving her a smile.
Cordelia and I then spent the next ten minutes catching up—talking about the exhibit I was in charge of, the few one-night stands she had while she was away, and the fact that Nicolas had been helping me while both her and Damien were gone.
I wanted so desperately to tell her about the events that took place between Damien and I but was afraid of how she'd react if she found out that I had crossed a line with him not once, but twice. So I decided on keeping my mouth shut for now.
Glancing at my phone, I mentally cursed myself as I was supposed to be in his office ten minutes ago. Looking back up at Cordelia, I cut her off as she was ranting about some Italian man she had slept with while in Toulouse.
"I'm so sorry, I was supposed to be in a meeting with Mr. Dupont about ten minutes ago," I said, leaving her side and hurriedly walking towards the spiral staircase. "Let's finish our conversation over dinner tonight, promise!"
As I walked down the long corridor that led to his office, I was already making up stories in my head on how he'd react to me being late to a meeting he ordered me to be on time for.
Would he punish me?
Slightly aroused, I wiped the thought from my head as I reached his door and knocked.
"Come in." He replied, a part of me sensing a slight tone of irritation in his voice. Maybe I was just hearing things.
Walking into the room, there he was, leaning against the front of his desk with his arms crossed. The unruly looking man from yesterday was replaced with a kept one. His grown out hair had been cut as well as his facial hair being trimmed. The new man standing in front of me oozed seduction.
"Miss Adams, I'm pretty sure I told you to be in here the minute you start work," He reprimanded, checking his watch. "Sit."
Following his orders, I sat in the chair closest to where he was standing. As I crossed my legs, I noticed my skirt ride up, revealing my garter stockings. Knowing that there was a possibility that seeing this would rile him up, I kept my legs still.
Good Morning, Mr. Dupont.
"I don't know what you're doing but don't think for a second, that I'm not keeping track of this." He asserted, putting me in my place.
Despite a slight frown spreading across my face, the thoughts in my head presented differently. For a split second, I debated riling him up even more to get another reaction out of him. What was he keeping track of and why was he keeping track of it? Would he use this against me?
I silently prayed to God, hoping I would be lucky enough to find out.
❦
"Miss Adams, I know you think you want this but I don't know if you fully understand what you're asking—what you think you want to be involved in." Damien stated for the hundredth time.
We had been in his office for the past forty-five minutes beating around the bush, trying to discuss our quote on quote, relationship. Forty-five minutes later and we had gotten nowhere. It was just Mr. Know-it-all telling me, again, that I wasn't sure I knew what I wanted.
"Mr. Dupont, with all due respect, this conversation is tiring me." I let out, pretending to yawn.
"What did you just say to me?" He shot up, walking around the bend of his desk, now face to face with me.
Attempting to sit up in my seat, I gulped as I made eye contact with his brown eyes. Both of his arms were on either side of the chair, trapping me. I didn't know whether to feel scared or completely aroused.
"I-I don't—" I tried.
"What? You're all quiet now? Have nothing to say?" He said, his grip on the chair getting visibly tighter. "You're lucky I don't force you to your knees and fill that mouth of yours."
Based on our past two experiences, I knew better than to provoke him as I knew that he didn't like it when I ordered him to do something to me. But there was also a part of me that wanted to push his buttons once again. To see how badly he'd punish me. See if he'd actually do what he said, right in the middle of his office.
To see if he'd be the one to bring out the masochist buried inside of me.
And so I spoke.
"All this talk, sir—why don't you?"
I knew that once I said those words, there was no way I'd come back from that. In other words, I had a feeling I was about to get my shit wrecked.
Or as Damien liked to call it—disciplined.
Pulling me up from my seat, Damien turned me around and forcefully pulled me against him. Gripping my neck with one hand and caressing my breasts with his other, he slightly tugged on my nipples as they hardened through my sheer blouse. Adding to the multiple sensations that had already been firing throughout my body, I felt his lips make contact with my neck to which he started to suck.
Letting out a moan, I pushed my body backwards in an attempt to get closer to him than I already was.
"Keep your mouth shut." He ordered, his grip on my throat getting a little tighter.
As he started to suck on my neck again, leaving mark after mark, he bucked his hips forward, allowing me to feel his erection on my backside. Keeping one hand on my throat, he moved the other one downward. Slightly lifting up my skirt, he placed his hand right over my core.
He slowly started to rub over my thong, causing me to almost buckle at his touch. Letting out a few whimpers, I was afraid he'd reprimand me again but to my surprise, he didn't say anything.
Little did I know, that was code for—Vera, you done fucked up.
Spinning me back around, he harshly gripped my face so that my eyes met his. From the way his eyes darkened to the slight smirk appearing on his face, I knew I was about to learn my lesson.
"I'm tiring you? I'll give you something to be tired about."
And with that, I was pushed to my knees. The sound of him unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper filled the room.
"I don't believe I am but correct me if I'm wrong, Vera. You want me to use you like the whore you are?"
"Yes, I do, sir." I responded, my eyes still averted towards the ground.
"Look up when you're speaking to me." He ordered, slowly stroking himself in front of me.
"Yes, sir. I-I want you to use me like the whore I am." My response came out, making me feel entirely humiliated, however, I couldn't help but relish in it.
Like I said before, he had been the only man that degraded me without holding back. The only man to treat me with the kind of aggression that I had sought after for the past three years. Without me having to tell him, he knew how badly I wanted him to take advantage of me. He was the only man that was able to read me like a book.
"Say it again."
"Please, sir. Please treat my mouth as just another hole."
Before I knew it, his hand was tangled in my hair as he forced himself into my mouth. The second his length touched the back of my throat, a loud groan escaped him. Activating my gag reflex, he pulled back out to let me catch my breath.
"Be happy I gave you a second to breathe. I'm not done with you," He said, lifting my chin up with his hand as he towered over me. "Tell me, how badly do you want it?"
"More than you'll ever know, sir."
Placing his hands on either side of my head and entangling them with my hair, he thrusted his cock back into my mouth. This time, not giving me even a second to catch my breath. Making eye contact with him, he looked down at me taking his length into my mouth and let out a series of loud groans.
"That's right, keep taking it, you fucking slut." He ordered as he repeatedly fucked my face.
In an attempt to keep balance, Damien allowed me to steady myself by grabbing onto his legs. His grip on my hair increasingly got tighter as he kept hitting the back of my throat. Tears spilled from my eyes as he brought his entire length inside of my mouth for a good few seconds.
Pulling away from me, I exhaled loudly, attempting to regain a steady breath.
"You look like a masterpiece." He described, pulling me up to my feet and cupping my face with his hands. Closing my eyes, I gave him a small smile.
"I'm not finished with you yet, mon amour." [my love]
As soon as those words left his mouth, he lifted my skirt up, exposing my entire lower half. Hoisting me up onto his desk, he then spread my legs and placed his hand onto my core.
"Fuck, you're drenched." He groaned, pulling the piece of lace that covered my folds to the side.
Slipping two of his fingers into me, I immediately arched my back and let out a whimper. Closing my eyes, I felt him move his fingers in and out of me at a slow pace.
"Would you like it if I fucked you right here?" He asked, gripping my neck and bringing my face closer to his.
While his fingers were still in me, I was unable to properly form a sentence so I settled for a rather weak nod.
"Use your words, Vera." He spat, pushing his fingers deeper into me, causing me to lean into him.
"Yes, please fuck me! I need you in me." I cried out, slightly embarrassed by how needy I got when it came to Damien.
Pulling my body towards the edge of the desk, he grabbed a condom from one of the drawers and ran it over his length. Without warning, he ripped the lace material from my body and positioned himself in front of me. Snaking one of his hands around my neck, he then slowly buried himself into me. Feeling myself tighten around his cock had fired up something in me that I couldn't quite explain. The closest thing to how I was feeling right now was absolute fucking bliss.
Burying my head into his shoulder, he pulled me closer to him in an attempt to deepen himself into me.
"Breathe, baby. Take it like the good girl you are." His once assertive tone softened a bit as I tried to adjust to the slight pain of him stretching me out.
As much as I wanted to ask him to fuck the living daylight out of me, I kept quiet and enjoyed the feeling of my warm core covering his length.
Was it too much to ask him if he could stay inside of me forever?
"Oh, Vera. Don't enjoy this too much. You're still being punished."
There he was—the sadistic dominant I knew had been waiting to breach the surface.
Picking up his pace, he gripped one of my legs and forcefully thrusted in and out of me; an array of moans and groans escaping the both of us. While some might've seen Damien's harsh words as degrading and toxic, I saw them as somewhat of a love letter. A poetic story that only him and I could understand.
Except this wasn't anything near love. This was aggression, rage, and pure lust, all bundled into one.
In my short life on this earth, I had quickly come to terms with the fact that I needed these things to feel satisfied. I needed someone to call me names, spank my ass, and take advantage of me. Without it, a void would start to form.
The reason I relate this sadist, masochist life to a love letter is because it doesn't come with shame. While Damien questioned whether or not I wanted in on all of this, he never once judged me for being interested in any of the things that surrounded it.
As Damien repeatedly used me, I felt an overwhelming sensation of pure ecstasy. Each thrust brought me closer and closer to my climax and to push me even further, Damien had started to rub circles around my clit with his thumb.
"The way you keep tightening around my cock—are you going to come, baby?" He asked, his lips brushing over mine.
"Yes, sir, may I please come?" I whined out, squirming around as he continued to fill me.
"No," He ordered, not slowing his pace for a second. "I want you to tell me how badly you want this. How much you like it when I use you as my personal fuck toy."
Grabbing onto both of his arms, it had become impossible for me to contain myself. Between the loud moans that left my mouth and his deep groans that filled my ears, I was completely at Damien's mercy.
"I need you so fucking much, you're the only one that can get me wet like this," I cried out, my fingers digging into his arms. "I'm completely yours—please let me come!"
As his lips met my ear, he whispered.
"Come for me, mon amour. Come for me, hard." Who was I to disobey his orders?
With him continuing to shove himself deep inside of me and his thumb rubbing my clit, I completely unraveled to the sensation of pain and pleasure that overwhelmed me. Over, and over, and over again. Keeping my eyes shut, I leaned into Damien's body and felt my core tighten around him, throbbing as I reached my climax.
Not caring about who might hear, my moans filled the office and Damien allowed them to. Ending with one final thrust, I knew Damien had found his release as well as I felt the latex layer between us fill up with warmth.
In an attempt to catch our breaths, we held onto each other as we slowly came down from the high we had just experienced. This was a feeling that only him and I could understand.
As he pulled away, all he did was stare at me. His face, filled with contemplation.
"Can I say something, sir?" I asked, to which all he did was nod. "You keep ripping all of my clothes, I'm not sure if I'll have any left by the time you're done with me."
Suddenly, an aching pang rushed to my chest. When you're done with me. That was the thing, I didn't want him to be done with me, I don't think I ever wanted him to be done with me.
Within this short amount of time, Damien brought out parts of me that I had been waiting to embrace for a while now. Granted, it took me having to interrupt the man a few times but everything he did to me, made me feel the exact way I had explained to him, that day in the cafe.
It wasn't just the playroom or the lifestyle that brought me peace and maybe it had been too soon to admit how I felt about the man staring at me right now.
But the one thing I could say with no hesitation—he was responsible for my peace.
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Note: .....................goodnight.
—love, kay