Tease Me Once by W. Winters

Braelynn

Secretary work hasn’t ever been my … desired profession.  All Declan really has me doing is copying and pasting numbers, filing away invoices.  It’s nothing dramatic and nothing that that requires much thinking.  Occasionally some numbers don’t add up and I send it to some admin email to review.  I’m not certain who it goes to, but whoever it is replies that they’ll take care of it each and every time.

It’s none of my damn business as far as I’m concerned.  In the corner of Declan’s office, propped up on the leather high-back chair, I click away, making progress every day and waiting for … more pleasurable orders.  Half of me wonders if Declan even needs me to do this.  Or if he simply wants me occupied while I wait for him.

Usually I can get myself to concentrate on the numbers and the records, but tonight it’s impossible. I can’t focus. My heart pounds thinking of what he did. A hollow pit has opened up inside me and it seems to be taking over my whole body. Every breath I take makes that pit feel more frozen, heavier and as if it’ll stay like that forever.

I contributed to a death.

There’s no way of avoiding it or denying it. If I hadn’t told Declan about Travis, then Travis would still be alive. A chill flows down my shoulders. There’s no question of it in my mind. Once Declan knew he wouldn’t allow Travis to keep living. Knowing that I caused this to happen leaves a place inside of me empty.

The thing that makes the emptiness stark and almost shocking is that I should be … sadder, or scared. More terrified and regretful.  I should be shaken to the core that Travis is dead, and that I caused it to happen.

But I’m not. I’m glad he’s gone.

With a deep, steadying inhale, I acknowledge the truth. I’m glad he’s dead.  I have some remorse, but not enough to make me feel as though I’m a terrible person.

My mom didn’t raise me to take revenge on people. She wanted me to be able to stand up for myself. She wanted me to be able to set boundaries with others and keep myself safe. But revenge was never the way we lived our lives. “It takes too much of your precious energy, nena,” she’d tell me. “Make your life better. Don’t make other people’s lives worse.”

She wasn’t talking about killing a person. That’s not making their life worse, it’s ending it completely.

I push the laptop away, leaving it on the ottoman and pace. My gaze constantly focuses on the closed office door, as if I could will Declan to come back.

I need a break. I need something to distract me. I need him.  He can make this feeling go away.  He did it last night and he can do it again now.  I just need him.

With my fingers making knots around each other, I look through the shelves on the walls, through classic books, eyeing collectibles that look like they’ve come from all over the world.  It seems … curated.  Expensive and luxurious.  There’s a hint of Declan within the details, but it’s not quite him.  Vaguely I wonder if he’s even read these books, or if he simply prefers to collect them.

The things that are more obviously Declan are tucked away where no one else can see. In the hidden room concealed by the bookshelf. I do two more slow laps around the office, checking for anything else to occupy my time, all the while waiting for him. Anything at all.

I shouldn’t be snooping, I know that, but the hidden door begs me to open it.  It promises me he won’t mind if I wanted to look through the collection of leather implements.

My resistance gives way as the clock tick, tick, ticks, and I open it just like Declan did, pressing my hand against a panel, and all the whips and paddles he showed me before are revealed.

Holy shit. Heat engulfs my body.  It’s no less intimidating now that I’m alone.

I don’t dare touch a single thing, but I have time to trace my eyes over the whips and toys and tools. He has an impressive collection and my pulse flutters in my throat. He won’t hesitate to use these on me. Probably all of them.

I swallow hard. Some of the whips look vicious. The other implements make me just as nervous, though Declan promised me he knows how to use them. We’ve done enough together that I believe him. Even staring at the sharp ends of the whip, a heat pools between my thighs.  He could make any pain turn to pleasure.

I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me.  In this moment, I’m certain of that.

Gaining courage, I take a thick vibrator out of the shelf and test the weight in my hands. Glancing behind me, I have to move around the shelf to check the door.  Still nothing.  I’m still alone.  Placing the vibrator back, I decide to let my curiosity guide me.

I let my mind wander through the various scenarios that would be inspired by each one when I hear someone in the hall, the footsteps steady and sure. The nipple clamps fall to the floor. Fuck!

I snatch them up, making sure I haven’t left anything out when I hear the door open.  Shit, shit, shit.  There’s someone with him.

The space is large enough to stand in and like a child caught snooping, I barely get the door closed in time. My heart races in the dark space.  There’s only a crack of light and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust.  The door is not all the way shut. Just enough that I don’t think they can see me.

I can’t see the door, but I hear it shut and the scooting of a chair.  Oh my God.  Why did I hide in here?  Inwardly I curse myself.

I take a step back into the closet but my shoulder blades brush against the whips hanging on the wall. No more moving, or else I’m bound to push an item off a hook and give myself away. Through the thinnest crack in the door I can see Nate, standing near Declan’s desk, although his back is to me. I hope he doesn’t look back here and notice the open door. If he does, he’ll probably sense I’m standing right behind it.

“How did the meeting with your brothers go?” Nate asks.

My heart pounds.  I sure as hell should not be listening to this.  Fuck.  I do everything I can to block it out.  Fisting my hands by my side and closing my eyes although they don’t stay closed for long.

“Not much to update on,” Declan answers.

I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure if I should come out and reveal myself or stay put. It feels like it’s too late to do anything.

As they talk, all I can think is: fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Declan comes across the room and stands in front of his desk. His eyes travel over my empty chair in the corner of the office, and then he glances toward the adjoining bathroom. The door is open. I know it. I left it open.

“Three men were killed during the meet late last night,” Nate is saying. “Former Talvery men facing off. I’ve had some contacts say—”

I move slightly, trying to get a better look at Declan’s face. He’s shifted position and is hard to see, but then I get the perfect angle and I do. My heart is racing. I shouldn’t be in here. Declan lifts his eyes from the surface of his desk and turns his head.

He’s looking right at me.  My skin blazes and I can barely breathe.

I stay as still as I’ve ever stayed, despite my pulse hammering inside my chest. True terror overwhelms me, the kind I should have felt and somehow didn’t when I learned he’d killed Travis.  He turns back to Nate and doesn’t interrupt him. Did he see me?

“Blow up the bar on Fifth,” Declan says. I think it’s where the Talvery men have their meets. I’m not supposed to know about it, though. I’m never supposed to hear anything that is spoken in Declan’s office. I know plenty now, though.  “Have Patrick and Barrett set up a block away.”

“Patrick’s not in town,” adds Nate.

“What about Dorian? He has experience with sniping, doesn’t he?”

Nate nods as my body goes cold.  Sniping?  As in shooting them?

“Fine. Have the two of them set up. Kill any of the higher-ups. No one else.  Only the higher-ups.” Declan taps his fingers on the desk; I can’t see but I can hear it. I’ve learned he does that when he’s thinking.  “Spread the word that Aria and Carter’s marriage was an alliance and we will keep our promise to everyone who has not betrayed us. Make sure we’re giving the impression it was only a few men who we believe should pay for what happened, only the few who gave the orders and that it’s been dealt with. Give the men the option to come to us … and turn on each other.”

Nate responds, “Yes, Boss.”

“I have work to do. We’re finished for now.”

Nate leaves quickly. The office door opens and closes with a thud.  My thumb runs over my fingers, wanting me to push the door open.  But I don’t know what I’d say.

I’m not given the option to wait any longer, though.

“You can come out now.”  His voice is calm and even, yet it sends a fear through me.

“Declan, I—” I speak through the crack, not yet opening it and facing him.

I’m cut off by his order. “Come out now so I can see you.”

Swallowing the spiked ball in my throat, I obey him instantly but my hands tremble. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant. It matters that you were here.”  Still, his tone portrays a matter-of-factness, no anger, no disappointment.

“I’m sorry.”

“Put those away.”  His gaze travels down to my hands, I hadn’t realized I was still holding the nipple clamps.  My cheeks heat as I open the door, and I feel Declan’s eyes burning into the back of my neck with every move I make. When I’m done I come back to him, standing beside his desk where I know he prefers me.

He stands with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his thumb traveling down his jaw as he assesses me.  I’ve never felt so much like a child in his presence.  Struggling to say anything at all, I peer up, waiting for him.

“What did you hear?”

“Nothing.” I swallow thickly.

“You mean everything?”  His brow cocks.

I nod. “I heard everything.”

I expect him to be angry at me, but Declan sits on the edge of his desk, his expression calm. “You know better. What should your punishment be?”

“I don’t know.”  My palms are clammy and my heart races.

With a gentleness I don’t expect, he brushes my hair away from my face. “You need to give me better answers, my sweet girl.”  His hand cups my jaw and he repeats, emphasizing the question, “What should your punishment be?”

My mouth is dry. I can’t come up with an answer. I just want him to tell me.  “Whatever you think it should be.”

“I never did get to fuck you after spanking you,” he comments, almost to himself. “The next time you’re in here when you don’t think you should be, do not hide. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You come out immediately.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”  His voice is a soothing balm.  As his thumb runs down my chin and lower, my eyes close.  “I prefer for you to be my good girl so I don’t have to punish you.”

With my heart racing, I swallow and then whisper, “I know.”  When I open my eyes, his hazel gaze is on me, swirling with a dark lust. He’s going to spank me; I know he is.  With deep breaths, I prepare myself. Remembering the last time, with the ruler, I contemplate begging him to use his hand instead. I swallow down the plea, I will be his good girl.  I’ll do whatever he wants.  Even if the nervous prickling runs over every inch of my skin.  The pain will be bad at first but it won’t last for more than a day.

“Strip,” Declan commands with a deep rumble of desire.

While I take my clothes off, he sets up two stacks of books on his desk. My focus remains entirely on him because I have no idea what the hell he’s doing.  There are four to five books in each stack and he attempts to make them even.

Nervousness coils in my stomach.  I can’t stop watching him. As my bra hits the floor, and the chill of the air sends goosebumps down my arms, he meets my questioning gaze. “I’ve had a very long night already, my little pet, and an even longer day.”  He pats the desk and tells me, “I have a meeting in a moment and I’m going to need you to lie there.”

I move to obey him without hesitation, grateful to not be bent over and bracing myself for a paddle or that damned wooden ruler and Declan stops me, gripping my chin.

“Let me put you how I want you,” he says and as he does, he drops his eyes to my lips and then kisses me sweetly before nipping my bottom lip.

He makes me lie down so my feet are propped on the edge of the desk. My spread thighs will be very close to his chair. When I lay back, he puts the stacks of books on either side of my waist and then he puts his laptop over my belly. It’s not touching me. He has the edges balanced on the books. Declan sits, adjusting the screen so it faces him.

My nipples are tight with the chill in the air as I lie here, completely bared to him and staring at the ceiling.

I haven’t the faintest idea of what he plans for me, but the moment his thumb brushes down on my clit, I gasp and my back arches from the unexpected touch.

I’m rewarded with a rough chuckle before Declan moves my thighs farther apart, adjusting them the way he adjusted his screen. “If you move, they’ll see your legs, so don’t you dare move.”

I stare up at the ceiling, completely unsure, my heart beating out of my chest.  “I’ll be still,” I promise him.  Is this all he plans for me?

“I want to play with you during this meeting. You’ll be quiet. You won’t move.”  Biting down on my bottom lip, I keep myself from questioning him.

His thumb comes down on my clit again and I suck in a gasp as a spike of pleasure rides through my body.

“You will not make a sound once the meeting starts,” warns Declan. “You will not make a move. Understood?”

“Yes, Declan.”  My body is tense and my bottom lip drops open with another wave of pleasure as he plays with me.

“Not quite a punishment, is it?” he questions.

My head falls to the side as he rubs ruthless circles over my clit.  I can barely think; every effort I have goes into remaining still and quiet.  “I don’t know.”

He hums a short, quiet laugh. “Yes, you do. I’m going to toy with you and get you off. Do not interpret this as a reward. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, Braelynn, and selfishly enjoying you as I wanted rather than denying myself.”

I nod although I then realize he can’t see me and say, “Yes, Declan.”  Declan stands up to look down at me, towering over me, dominating me and appraising me.  His eyes burn into mine. “Be my good girl and be quiet. It’s about to start.”

I repeat myself. “Yes, Declan.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises me before sitting back down.

The clicks of his keyboard alerts me that his hand is busy elsewhere, leaving me wanting as I lie here helplessly.

Voices come on. I don’t recognize any of them. One man says something about alcohol sales, and another man corrects him. They go back and forth for a minute, then move on to the next topic.  Declan remains silent throughout it, although his chair groans as he readjusts. It seems like a business conversation but I can’t pay attention.

Because Declan’s fingers are between my thighs. He strokes them through my slit, already slick from his prior play, pausing every now and then to toy with my clit. He tests my entrance with two thick fingers, seeing if I’m wet and then spreading my arousal up to my swollen nub that begs for his attention. My body goes hot and I struggle to stay silent.

As my release heralds its arrival, my thighs tremble. My hands fist at my side and my head thrashes.  I don’t know if I can stay still.  Fuck, please.  Stay still.

When he brushes his fingers along my center, my foot slips. Shit—I catch it just in time. My thigh doesn’t go. My heart races and my eyes widen when his hand stops.

I wait, holding my breath, and after a moment he continues.  This time, his efforts are more ruthless, his fingers curling as he enters me, stroking my front wall and bringing me closer to the edge.

I’m so close. So much pleasure has built up between my legs that the next time Declan brushes his thumb over my clit, I come undone. With both of my hands covering my heated face, I pant into my palms, doing everything I can to keep quiet. Declan doesn’t stop. He keeps going and more pleasure crashes over me. He groans deep as I come on his fingers again. This time, I moan a little. I can’t help it.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I curse myself when he stops again.

This time Declan taps on the keyboard. “Do I need to remind you to be quiet?”

I shake my head.

“Answer me verbally. My mic is muted.”

“No. No. I’ll be quiet.”  A cold sweat coats my body as I gather my strength to stay still and quiet.

“Good girl.”

When he says that, I'm his good girl … I’m becoming addicted to it.

His fingers trail over me again as he leans back in his chair, gently now, and he brings me so close to the edge that I almost come again within seconds. Then he backs off. He waits until my thighs have stopped trembling and starts again. He edges me … and again. The minutes stretch out. Ten minutes, or fifteen. A long damn time to be toyed with and to have release after release denied. He constantly touches me and plays with me and I can hardly breathe with how good it feels.  The cool desk beneath my shoulders is my only relief.  I’m losing myself to the sensation.

My eyes pop open when I hear his zipper being undone, and I wait for him to fuck me, but he just plays with me. Both thighs are trembling now. I can’t take much more.

A small moan of protest leaves me, begging him, and then he stops altogether, his touch retreating.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. Just a moment.” Declan moves the computer.

Fuck, fuck.

I’m silent as Declan picks me up as if I’m nothing, grasping onto him and wanting to plead with him but I stay silent. He bends me at the waist, his arms bracing me before he lowers me over the arm of a chair. “This is going to be quick,” he murmurs in my ear, his warm breath trailing down my shoulder, and then he thrusts into me with all his thick length. It all happens so quickly, I’m barely aware of it until he’s inside of me.  Declan fucks me hard and deep, using me like the fuck toy he said I would be.

My entire body is weak by the time he comes inside of me and I’ve come yet again, at least the fourth time since he started all of this.

“Fuck, Braelynn,” he murmurs. Declan rests me on the chair, zips his pants up, and goes back to the meeting.  The leather is cool beneath me and thank God it’s leather because the warmth leaks out of me and onto the chair.

Sated and weak, I clean it up and clean myself off, still attempting to calm my breathing.

When I’ve finished, Declan pats his lap. I hear, but when I raise my eyes to look at him, he’s not looking back. He’s casual, though stern, facing the monitor. He pats his lap again and taps on the keyboard, I assume to mute his mic again.

“Come here,” he orders. “Crawl if you have to.”

Another click on the keyboard.

I obey. I crawl to him, and he pats his knee. I rest my head against it while he pets my hair. His touch is soothing, possessive, yet everything I need.  My heavy eyes close as Declan strokes my cheek and time passes allowing me to recover.

There’s a tink that forces my eyes open.

A pen dropped, and Declan bends down. I offer it to him, and Declan takes it, his fingers brushing against mine, but he looks deep into my eyes. “Do you need me to hold you?”

I shake my head, taken aback.

“If you did, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”  A simper plays on my lips.  “Good.”  A warmth I haven’t felt with him takes over as he kisses me once.

“If you need me, squeeze.” He puts my hand on his thigh. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

He sits back up and returns to the call, but his hand never stops moving over my hair and that warmth never leaves me.