Make me Yours
“If I don’t get those accounts by Monday, someone will be out of a job, and I can promise you it won’t be me.”
Gina slammed down the phone, not allowing the man on the end of the line to get another word in.
She rolled her head on her shoulders, trying to ease the knotted muscles. Thank God it was Friday. She needed this weekend. Of course she’d basically just ruined someone else’s but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. To get ahead in business as a woman you needed to be a hard-ass. If some people called you ‘bitch’ behind your back, then so be it.
At the thought of the weekend ahead, Gina’s eyes flicked to her cell phone. The screen remained dark; no call or text message lighting the display.
She sighed again, but this time for a different reason. She hoped he’d call. The nature of their relationship meant she never called him. Everything was on his terms and she liked it that way.
But there were times like this she wished she could conjure him up at will. Right now, nothing would feel better than being strapped to her bed while he reined attention down on her, kisses building to nibbles, nibbled building to bites, bites building to slaps.
Gina squeezed her thighs together, her pussy tightening in pleasure. She squirmed in her seat, her thigh-high stockings and suspenders neatly hidden beneath her prim and proper business suit.
It was getting late and she was the last one left in the office, as usual. She picked up her purse and headed from her private section. A woman in overalls ran a vacuum down the empty corridor and they flashed each other a polite smile and a ‘goodnight’ as Gina passed by.
She caught the elevator down to the ground floor and exited though the lobby. As she stepped out onto the street, a smile caught her lips.
A shiny black saloon Jaguar waited at the curb-side. She stopped dead and the driver’s door cracked open. Derek leaned around out, taking in the sight of her standing there.
“What are you waiting for? Get in.”
A mixture of nerves and excitement fluttered in her stomach and she tried not to skip as she made her way around the front of the car to the passenger side. He leaned across and cracked the door open for her. She slid onto the leather seat, the aroma of ‘new car’ filling her nostrils.
Gina risked a glance. As always, he was dressed in an expensive dark gray suit—probably Ralph Lauren or Louis Vuitton—and his short hair was gelled away from his face. A heavy fridge of dark lashes made him look at though he wore eye-liner, though the lashes were his only feminine quality. His fine, straight nose and cut jaw made for a formidable profile.
“Derek,” she said with pleasure. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you...”
“No talking. You stay quiet until I tell you to speak.”
She pressed her lips together and lowered her head, looking down at where her hands clutched her purse in her lap. She wanted to ask where they were going, hoping he wouldn’t take her to a bar or a restaurant. While the torture of him dragging out her lesson was exquisite, tonight she just wanted to be taken.
He pulled the car out into traffic. With his attention still focused on the road, he reached across and pushed his large hand between her thighs. His fingers met with the already damp lace of her underwear. Pressure against her clit for the briefest of moments sent sparks through her, before he pulled away
“You’re wearing panties,” he said, his disproval radiating in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a hurry. “I hadn’t realized...”
“Did I tell you to talk?”
She shut her mouth and gave her head a brief shake. He withdrew his hand and she hiked her pencil skirt up further in order to rid herself of the offending underwear. Lifting her ass off the leather seat, she wriggled out of the panties, hooking them over her heels and then dropping them in the foot well. She went to pull her skirt back down, but his hand on her thigh stopped her.
Gina slowly lowered her bottom to the seat, the leather warm and smooth against her naked rump. With her skirt rumpled around her waist, her thigh-highs and suspenders were revealed, as was the small patch of blonde curls nestled between her thighs. She shivered with anticipation, longing for him to reach back over and touch her again, push a thick digit inside her and finger her while he was driving, but he did not. Instead, he simply drove while she sat there, exposed, her juices leaving a wet spot on the leather.
She glanced out of the passenger window, trying to distract herself from the illicit thoughts racing through her head. If she wasn’t careful, she’d not be able to help herself and climb onto his lap here and now. Derek wouldn’t like that. He’d punish her.
The route they were taking was familiar. They were going to his place.
Gina suppressed a smile. When he took her back to his it was usually for the whole weekend. She always kept a spare toothbrush and a clean pair of panties in her purse, just in case. However, it didn’t look like this one was going to be a panty-wearing weekend anyway.
Derek wasn’t comfortable staying at her apartment. When they went to hers, he’d screw her senseless and then leave. But he was happy to have her in his own domain and she’d normally leave last thing Sunday night, exhausted and sore, but strangely at peace.
Derek pulled the car into the private parking lot beneath his building.
He turned to her. “Cover yourself up.”
“Yes Sir,” she said, still disappointed he’d not touched her yet. She knew she’d left a smear of her own cream on the seat and heat rushed to her cheeks. At least in the dim light he wouldn’t notice.
Except he did.
“Wet already?” he said, lifting one eyebrow. “I don’t remember telling you to get wet.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, mortified.
“Good. Now get up to the apartment.”
They rode the elevator up to the penthouse in silence. Stood, side by side, not touching. Mirrors reflected them from all sides—her blonde hair caught up in a chignon, her cheeks with a high flush of color. As always, Derek remained cool, his dark eyes impassive.
Gina tried not to tremble, tried to stay calm, but she knew what was ahead.
The doors pinged open and they stepped through. His was the only apartment on this floor. Derek fished his keys from his pocket and opened the door. He stood in the doorway, forcing her to brush past him as she walked by. Her skin raced with goose bumps at the contact, her breath catching in her chest.
“You know where I want you,” he said, pushing the door shut with the sole of his expensive shoe.
She did. Gina crossed through his minimalistic living space—all black leather, glass and chrome—and into the bedroom.
He followed her in. “Take it off.” His chin jerked at her suit, his eyes roving up and down her body.
Standing before him, Gina shrugged off her suit jacket and then picked each button of her shirt from its corresponding hole. She reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, freeing her small breasts. Her nipples were large in relation to the soft mounds of her tits, but they were ideal for being twisted and pulled into elongated nubs, perfect for whatever Derek felt like clipping to their sensitive peaks.
She popped the button on her skirt and wriggled it down over her hips. The item pooled at her feet and she stepped out of it. Stood in only her heels, stockings and suspenders, her body thrummed with sex.
“Bend over,” he instructed, nodding to the bed.
Gina turned around and placed her palms flat against the mattress. She pushed her rear out toward him, her back flat. Derek moved up behind her, his breath hot against the back of her ear.
He kissed her, the back of her neck, her cheek. Without removing her hands from the bed, she turned her face and captured his mouth. His tongue pressed forcefully into her mouth in a kiss that was close to a bite. Then he pulled away again, the show of affection only a brief respite.
His hands ran over her body, smoothing from her shoulders, down her spine and over her buttocks. He withdrew his hand and his palm landed on her bare ass with a sharp crack and a sting of pain. Gina moaned, fisting the sheets.
He lifted his hand and spanked her again, this time on her other buttock. Heat bloomed on her sensitive skin, but he didn’t give her any time to recover. He landed another smack, and then another and another, building up a rhythm.
Endorphins flared in her body, those hormones creating a high to counteract the pain. She cried out as he delivered a couple of particularly hard spanks, her toes curling in her heels. When his hands next made contact with her skin it was with a gentle touch, his palms smoothing away the sharp pain. Her head swam, the chemical reaction her body had started not dissipating just because the pain had stopped.
Her pussy clenched with a forceful throb, fresh cream pulsing from her body, dampening the insides of her thighs.
“Please,” she begged. “Please...” Her voice broke off with a sob, but the reaction was one of desire and frustration. She wanted him to penetrate her so badly it contained the power of an addiction. No one else understood this part of her, this part that wanted to be broken down and lifted up, to be owned and to obey. She’d be bruised and marked in the morning, but she somehow looked forward to seeing the abrasions, knowing he’d put them on her.
His voice came from behind. “Hush.”
She sensed his movement before she saw it, how he leaned down beside the bed to retrieve a black leather flogger whip. She knew from previous experience that the multiple strands of leather were as soft as velvet.
“Brand me,” she said, her breath mere gasps, like a fish struggling for air. “Make me yours.”
The straps licked her skin, gentle at first but then he brought it down hard, the leather cracking against her flesh. He increased the power of his strikes until each lash whipped her with a vicious sting. The blows rained down on her ass and then her back and shoulders, leaving strips of red in their wake.
The pain felt exquisite, every part of her tightened into a coil of burning nerves. Her ass flared with heat and her cunt clenched every time a flick of Derek’s wrist sent the flogger lashing upon her. She was solely focused on how she felt, internalized, forgetting even the man who delivered such a parody of pleasure. He was taking her to another level; one where only she and the sensations gripping her body existed.
He paused once more, giving her time to bask in the afterglow while he retrieved a paddle, though he kept hold of the flogger. The new toy delivered a sharper blow, closer to the smack of a palm and she drew a sharp intake of breath each time the paddle hit her receptive bottom.
Derek turned the handle of the flogger around. The cool leather pressed between her swollen, wet pussy lips. She gasped but spread her legs, allowing access. The handle slid inside her, her juices slicking the way.
He continued to spank her with the paddle, the smacks increasing in speed and intensity. Her whole head spun, the sensations coursing through her body too great to hold onto. Her cunt clenched hard around the inanimate object and he held it deep within her, not moving the handle inside her. Her body took over, her inner muscles contracting and pulsing around the hard cylinder of leather.
Gina’s orgasm took her by surprise, rolling out over her in waves so forceful she cried out. Her legs grew weak beneath her, trembling as the force of her coming powered over her. Her pussy rippled around the handle as though trying to pull it deeper. Her hands fisted in the clean, white sheets, and she issued cried of ‘oh, oh, oh’ as she came.
Her body slumped, her head hung beneath the shoulders. Derek slipped the flogger from her sopping slit and dropped it to the floor. He leant over her back and kissed the base of her neck, working down her spine with gentle, healing kisses.
She allowed the final tremors of her orgasm to shudder through her. Gradually her breathing returned to normal, though she knew it wouldn’t be for long.
This was only the start.