Bossy Christmas Party: CEO Older Man Taboo Office Romance by Mia Madison

Author:Mia Madison
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I fall asleep on the subway, heading to Manhattan the next morning. It's barely four hours since Mr Wellman dropped me at home. He didn't give me a free pass to take the morning off so I'm woozy with lack of sleep.

I rolled around in bed all night without a moment of rest. Defying his command, I stroked my fingers across my pussy, gathering shivers of rising orgasm desperate for release. How would he know if I gave myself one small climax? In the end I didn't dare. I was curious to see what he had planned for me, so I'd wait. But it was impossible to unwind with the string between my legs, whatever he had pushed inside my tight cavern.

Shit. I'd been scrolling through for what that might be, doing a Google search on my phone when my eyelids drooped into a nap. Jumping awake when my neck howls from the angle of my loll, I pick up my phone and the screen pops open to images of butt plugs.

I swipe it away but the flush floods my cheeks as my neighbors smirk. I'm glad to exit the train into the sharp cold of midtown.

When I step off the elevator, the office reception is pristine.

“How? What happened to the disaster from the party?” I mutter at the beautiful perfection seated at the sleek glass reception desk.

“Mr Wellman has a huge overnight cleaning crew blast through. He likes us to have our fun once a year but he'd never allow the company image to be distorted.”

I eye her suspiciously, wondering whether she's been on the receiving end of Mr Wellman's fun.

“Is he in today?” I inquire casually. But still the query gets me a look from her.

“I can't say. He has a private elevator.”

I know that.

“And Andrea handles all his appointments.”

She gives me a knowing grin and I hurry away to the short tunnel leading to my storage room 'office'. The heating hardly reaches this lowly forgotten area and I can't warm up. Shivering, I can't stop wondering if he's up there in his office. Obviously I can't brazenly strut across reception and head up the open plan spiral staircase to his private suite right under the inquiring gaze of the three receptionists and assorted staff wandering through.

I can't concentrate. It's as bad as last night, rolling around in bed with the need to get off nibbling at me every which way. Every little move setting off thrills of desire starting deep in my assholewhere the balls rub against me. I hang my coat and go to get coffee. Scanning left and right for any sign of Mr Wellman's beautiful face and spectacular powerful body. No luck.

In the small but trendily decorated coffee room, three workers are huddled by the Nespresso machines.

“Did you see Andrea hanging off Mr Wellman last night. He's never ever in the twelve years I've worked here stayed more than ten minutes at the party. He exits as soon as we're done roasting him and given him his gift.

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