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I don’t go to the bar. I don’t really want to be ignored anymore, so I go back to my office. I pass Drex. For a moment, his face softens, like he wants to say something—but then he looks down and walks into a playroom.
It’s then that I realize I’m scowling. No wonder he ducked out; you don’t want to cross the boss.
The boss, I think to myself as I’m shutting the door. That is exactly what they are treating me like today. Just a boss, not a woman.
I sit back at my desk, saddened. This is what I wanted. What we needed. To be professional, to have some distance.
I just didn’t realize how much I would dislike it.
I turn the full feed on. My screen shows all the rooms at Scarlet. I find the guys and watch each of them. They’re all so fucking hot and so very good at what they do.
Watching them, I can’t help but think about the two times I let myself go with them. Being surrounded by their monster cocks, their hot cum all over my body. Fingers in my cunt. Cocks down my throat.
I writhe in my chair, watching. My clit aches. My pussy is dripping.
I need them.
No, I don’t, I think to myself.
I’m an independent woman. I don’t need them. I can take very good care of myself. I’ve been doing it long enough.
I shut off the camera feeds again. I don’t think masturbating in my office is very professional, but we do have the “Mistress Suite”—the owner’s VIP room, which I guess is mine now.
It doesn’t get booked, but it’s set up beautifully and has a decent wine cabinet. I’ll go there, have a glass of wine, and indulge in my own fantasies—while staying completely professional.
The room is beautiful. I haven’t really used it since taking over, and I really should. The walls are, of course, scarlet.
There is a deep purple velvet couch, and there are black lacquer cabinets spaced along the walls full of all the toys you could possibly think of. There are also a couple of tall black chairs, with backs perfect for tying someone to.
I open the only cabinet I have ever been brave enough to peek in and pour myself a glass of rosé. Delicious.
Suddenly feeling very adventurous, I open another cabinet, this one across from the couch. There’s a monitor here as well, tapped into the same security feed my office is. Looks like my nightly creeping on the guys could have been a lot more comfortable had I known.
Sipping my wine, I shut the cabinet. I don’t want to watch them right now.
I open another cabinet instead, this one lined with paddles with a tray of jewelry—nipple clamps, clit bells, and a heavy looking plug with a jeweled flared base. I picture myself with a pretty pair of nipple clamps—and the look on the guys’ faces.
They’ve been taunting me for ten days. I imagine teasing them back. I slide my dress off, and then my dripping panties. I’m not wearing a bra.
The room is warm. I lie on the velvet couch, letting it caress my skin. I feel deliciously unprofessional, naked here in my own room at my club. I let every thought I have been struggling against bubble to the surface.
Theo’s eyes burning, Max’s hard chest, Jake’s tongue. I think of all of them in turn, their bodies, their voices. Hands and cocks.
I imagine them filling me, I think of them grabbing me, spanking me. Everything I have watched them do to clients, everything we have done together, everything I have ever imagined but never let myself admit.
My hands trail across my skin, caressing my breasts, my throat, my thighs. I slip my fingers into my pussy, imagining a twelve-inch cock stretching me. I let my hands do what I wish I could let their cocks, their tongues, their hands do.
My back arches, and I reach for the sweet release of orgasm. I am so very close. I imagine what it would be like if they came in right now.
I hear a soft click. Did I imagine that? I have three fingers deep in my pussy reaching towards my G-spot, the palm of my hand grinding against my clit. I open my eyes for a moment.
Ten men stand near the door, their chests bare. Some in leather, some in silk. I can see ten straining cocks hard and ready.
“Miss Travers?” Theo says huskily.
“Just…call me Eve.” I say and reach to them.
Chapter 17
Eve
Theo is wearing a silk robe, and as he tears it off, he is the first one to get to me.
The others strip off whatever they’re wearing and are close behind him. Theo covers my mouth with his, hands grasping my heaving breasts.
Yes, this is what I want. I don’t want to be alone in this room, dreaming of sex. I want be filled. Now.
