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“What’s that?”
“You like being told what to do.” He puffs on the cigar. “Because I told you to come in here, and you did it. I told you to sit, you went to plant your ass in that chair. When I told you to come over here, what did you do?”
Hating that he’s calling me out on my compliance, I scoot down until my feet hit the floor. “You know what?”
“Get back up on the table,” he commands.
And God help me, I do. Granted, I wait a few seconds, but after he arches a brow while sucking on his cigar, I know I’m not going anywhere.
“See?” he says with a slight smirk, settling into his chair. “Your problem is you think your friends are going to find out what a compliant little girl you are. You want everyone to think you're feisty and strong. You don’t want anyone to think that you bow to a man, that you listen to a man, that you care what a man thinks. Right? Who are we, after all? Just cocksure pricks who already have the world at our feet. But nobody has to know, mi flor. Just me and you, and we both know you like it. Whether it’s because you have daddy issues, because you have fantasies you want to explore, because you’re naturally a submissive, or because deep down you want to please me for whatever reason,” he says with a shrug. “It really doesn’t matter to me.”
“The fact that you’re so blasé about this is kind of annoying,” I say, sitting up straighter. “Maybe you’re right, but you acting like I’m the only one interested in whatever this is between us is wrong and you know it.Youwantme. You’re the one who kept me from working a shift I could’ve worked just to have me here with you tonight. You also have me working for you tomorrow. Why would you want me, someone you hardly know, if not for physical attraction? I’m not stupid, Vicente. We don’t know each other well enough to like each other for our personalities. You want me around because you like the way I look, and I can be okay with that, because I like the way you look, too, but don’t act like it’s one-sided. If you want me to admit to something, you have to be honest too.”
Vicente looks amused, a grin tugging at his lips as he runs his thumb across his jaw before leaning forward and placing his cigar in a crystal ashtray on his desk. He pries my legs apart and settles his body between them, his hands on my thighs.
“I do like the way you look,” he admits, staring into my eyes. “And I like the way you look at me. You have this slight trepidation in your gaze, but you also seem to be imagining what you want me to do to you.” His fingers move higher up my legs. “But I wonder why you would be scared of me.”
He slips his fingers in the waistband of my panties and pulls them down. I lift myself up to allow him to get them off easier, and he slowly drags them down my legs before pocketing them.
“Are you scared of me, Mariella?”
I lick my lips and shake my head once.
He cocks his head. “Tsk tsk. Don’t lie to me.”
“Why would I be scared of you?” I ask, hoping to avoid having to lie.
“That’s a good question,” he says. “Lift up your dress and put your heels on the desk. Show yourself to me.”
My heart slams against my chest, but I do as he says, feeling extremely vulnerable yet somehow powerful.
He growls low in his throat as he stares at my pussy. “Touch yourself and tell me why you’re afraid of me.”
I look down at him for a brief moment before I move my hand to my clit, my fingers rubbing slow circles. “I don’t feel afraid.”
“I didn’t ask if you were afraid right now, did I?”
He stands up and takes off his jacket before draping it over the back of his chair. I watch as he unbuttons his cuffs and starts rolling his sleeves up, showcasing the veins in his well-toned forearms. Black ink marks the warm, honey brown skin in various designs and scripts.
My hand moves faster just watching him reveal more skin, but he doesn’t look at me. After adjusting his sleeves, he walks between my legs and peers down at me.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Yes, what?”
I pause, unsure. “Yes, sir?”
He smirks. “Yes, what?”
His fingers skate along the crease of my groin, teasing me.
My breaths come in pants, wanting his fingers to move more to my center. I don’t know what he wants me to say, but I’m willing to try anything to be able to feel more of him. “Yes…Daddy?”
When the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I’ve never said them to anyone before, but I’ve fantasized. I thought it would be right. That maybe that’s what he was wanting to hear, considering our age gap, but he chuckles slightly, and flames ignite in my cheeks and I want to run away.
“I was just wanting you to say please, like a good little girl.”
