So this fic is starting out a little different from my others. It's definitely not a slow burn but... well, let's say it's gonna be my version of a slow burn. The good news is this chapter is gigantic, and there is some smut.
This is a reworking of my one-shot Working for a Living. The basic premise is the same but the two fics exist in different versions of the same universe. It will not be included or referenced in this fic at all.
Before you say anything, yes I have taken massive liberties with the actual layout of New York City for this fic. But, hey, I had to put this building somewhere. If you don't actually live there you probably won't even notice.
WARNING: Sexual Harrassment Panda would be very disappointed in Killy bear. This implies dubious consent. This chapter is pretty mild compared to my usual stuff so if you're new be warned that this smut is only the beginning.
Chapter 1:
Chasing Paper and Promiscuous Behavior
Emma Swan braced herself as he walked through the revolving door into the annual JonesCorp Christmas party. She had worked at the company for 8 years and had always managed to miss this thing, but this time she hadn't had much of a choice.
"Emma! You made it! Oh, I'm so glad!"
She turned at the sound of her secretary's cheerful voice. Mary Margaret and her husband David came running up to her as fast as they could. She rolled her eyes. They had probably been lying in wait for her to walk through the door. "Well, you won the bet fair and square. Hi, David."
The sandy haired hunk of handsome leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Despite his good looks, Emma had never had a salacious thought about Mary Margaret's husband. He was too kind and thoughtful to be someone she would be interested in sexually. David wasn't a one night stand. He was a guy you brought home to your parents. That wasn't really her thing, and not just because she didn't have parents that gave a crap who she dated. "It's good to see you, Emma."
"This party is amazing!" the woman in the pixie cut gushed, leaning into Emma's personal space more than usual, "The Christmas tree is made out of solid ice and Ruby was right, this punch tastes like pink lemonade cream pie, which is weird because it's green. I usually don't drink but you can't taste the alcohol in this at all."
"Jesus, David," Emma said, steadying her assistant when she stumbled while standing still, "don't you know not to let a white girl have unlimited access to alcoholic beverages that are brightly colored and served with a ladle?"
"Oh, lighten up." he said, putting his arm around Mary Margaret, "If my wife wants to spend one of her few nights off getting drunk with her coworkers, I support her. If you ask me she doesn't let lose enough.
"It is so sad that you consider what you just said 'letting loose'."
"Hey!" exclaimed Mary Margaret with a hiccup, "You know they invited the race car driver? The one with the accent. Graham? Oh, he looks so cute in his tux! You guys hit it off at that photoshoot, didn't you?" They had, which was why Emma had refused an invite to the Monaco Grand Prix a few months earlier. "You should go talk to him."
"Not interested."
Mary Margaret seemed to simply ignore her, "Oh, how cute would it be if you two had a sexy workplace romance?"
"He's not an employee. Why would I even find it attractive that he's drives a car that I pay for?"
"Well," she replied, innocently sipping her drink and not making eye contact with her husband, "he does drive it really, really fast."
Emma was absolutely done with this conversation. She said to David, gesturing to her assistant's drink, "I'm gonna go get some of whatever the hell this is. Don't let her wander off."
She stomped off before they could follower her and shoved her way through the drunk crowd. The lobby was extravagantly decorated with sleek silvers and metallic greens. She felt a little silly in her bright red dress. It was tight and short. She usually wore it on dates but had wanted to get into the holiday spirit for her friends. She looked around. Everywhere people were flirting with slurred words and and phony sentiments of holiday cheer. Everybody knew this thing was practically an orgy. All the young single professionals would find someone to go home with by the end of the night. If they even made it home, that is.
She looked around. Everyone was smiling and laughing. The crowd made her feel lonelier than ever, so she slipped out on the patio area where the air was cool and much less suffocating. She walked over to the railing and looked over at Rockefeller Plaza with it's obnoxious tree and brilliant lights. She hated how beautiful it all was because she couldn't help but feel it was a beauty that wasn't meant for her.
Emma tried to steady her breath. Her friends meant well, she knew that. They couldn't possibly know how much it hurt to see them celebrating the holiday with each other. Sure they were at a party with hundreds of people, but they were doing it as a couple, and they would go home and sleep in the same bed, keeping out the cold December night with body heat and eternal love.
Every Christmas was the same. Emma avoided her friends so that she wouldn't have to resent them out of petty jealousy. This time Mary Margaret had managed to lure her out but it wouldn't make enjoying this party any easier.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door open as someone walked onto the balcony.
"Mind if I join you?" slurred a silky accented voice.
Emma turned to look. "It's cold out here." she said to the man with strikingly handsome features striding towards her. He was dressed in an expensive looking tux and looked somewhat familiar, though she couldn't place his face.
"Spoken like someone who wants to be alone." He came to stand to her left, resting his arms on the railing, just as she was. A moment of silence fell between them and for a moment she thought he might leave her in peace. "I love New York during the holidays. Reminds me of my childhood."
She rolled her eyes and turned to him, "Look, buddy, whatever sappy story you're about to tell me in hopes it will convince me that you are the only guy on the at this party who isn't a walking erection so that I'll sleep with you, please, save it. I'm not in the mood." The man's eyebrows went sky high in response. She looked out over the city and sighed, "I just want this week to be over."
She could feel him looking at her. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Emma Swan." she replied.
"Emma, would you like to ditch this dud of a party and get incredibly drunk with me in a place with a better view?"
She laughed, "Where would we go?"
He took her hand, making her breath catch. "Follow me." he said, pulling her towards a door at the other end of the patio.
Emma felt something flutter in her stomach. It was an unfamiliar feeling that startled her. It felt good and exciting, but also agonizing and frightening. She took a deep breath as the strange man pulled her into a dark and unlit corridor. Her free hand grabbed his arm and pulled him close while she laced her fingers with his. She breathed in the masculine sent of spices and musk mixed with rum. Her stomach fluttered again and she knew she was in trouble.
KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE
They made there way through the dark hallways, past cubicles, up stairways, and finally they reached one of the few floors Emma had never been to before. It was the top floor which had only a few offices, all rarely used. They were for people like the owner and board members with vanity titles who never left the golf course. He pulled her into a small lobby with a large desk bathed in moonlight.
"We can't be in here." she said, pulling back.
He held fast to her hand. "Don't be afraid, love. Your boss won't mind."
Emma scoffed as he pulling her along, "You mean everyone's boss. This is Killian Jones's office."
"Aye." he said pulling her inside and slamming her against the door before she could react. He put his forehead to hers, pinning her with every inch of his body, and whispered, "And I'm gonna fuck you in it."
She smiled despite herself. She usually hated masculine douchebags because, for all their chest pounding and dick measuring every one of them liked to be spanked in bed. She was often unimpressed by how quickly they backed down from her when she pushed them. They did everything she said, they never told her what to do, and they certainly didn't force themselves on her like this drunk asshole, which was saying a lot because she never wanted to have sex. Her battery powered jack rabbit out shined pretty much every guy she'd ever been with. "So, you do want to sleep with me."
"I hate to break this to you darling," he whispered, boldly kissing her neck, "But every man you've ever met has wanted to sleep with you."
She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him off. "I think I'll pass." she said, extracting herself from where he had her pinned and walking over to the window.
She waited, looking out over the city. The view was spectacular. "I heard he's an alcoholic."
"Who?" he asked putting his arms around her from behind.
"Killian Jones. I wonder what a man like him drinks."
"Let's find out."
She looked down to find him holding a decanter of amber liquid. Emma turned in his arms, enjoying the closeness of their bodies, "We can't! That's probably 30 year old scotch!"
"Actually," he said, sniffing the contents of the glass container, "I'm pretty sure it's rum." He walked over to the little table in the corner and poured two glasses.
"You're crazy!" she hissed when he offered her a tumbler. He took a healthy gulp and led her over to the large desk. She couldn't make out much about the office in the dark except that it was spacious and appeared to include a small sitting area. He brought her around to the other side and pinned her to the edge, once again invading her personal space without invitation. She should have been appalled by a belligerently drunk asshole pawing at her like a football player at a frat party, but she kind of liked it.
"Come on, have a drink with me."
"No!" she laughed.
"Emma." he pouted.
"I said no."
Without warning he reached up and tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. She winced as her forced her her to look up at him. "Sit down." he said, pulling down so that she was forced to sit on the edge of the desk. "Open your mouth." Emma felt her stomach explode with butterflies as she obeyed his command without a second thought. He poured a shot's worth of rum into her mouth and said, "Swallow." When she did he smirked, "That's a good girl."
He let go of her hair and took a sip from his glass. She felt her panties become instantly drenched. Had he seriously just done that? Had she seriously just let him do it? She looked around while he downed more alcohol. "I hope I don't think this guy's a prick."
"I hope you don't either." he replied.
When Killian Jones was nineteen he'd purchased five cargo ships with the fortune he'd made gambling his inheritance on the stock market. In three years he moved his operation to America where his fleet of semi's became the third largest freight delivery service in the country. She looked at the trophies and certificates that decorated the walls, "How could he not be? I mean, he was a billionaire by the time he was thirty. He's spent the last five years fucking models on a private island and he thinks he can just come back and run this company?" Killian had disappeared when he was twenty seven. He handed the company over to management and hurried off to spend his fortune on women and booze (or so they said), but he was back. When the company's profits had started to plummet there had been talks of liquidation, but Killian had resurfaced and reinstated himself as President and CEO in an attempt to repair the American market. Monday morning would be his first day at the helm and everyone was wary.
"He shouldn't have gone away. That was his mistake. He understands that."
"Why would he leave in the first place?"
He shrugged, "Probably had something to do with those models you mentioned."
"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm probably never gonna see him. The last CEO just let me run my department my way."
"I have a feeling that with you, Killian's going to be significantly more... hands on."
She scoffed, "I hope not."
"Oh," he said, putting his hands on her hips and running them up her sides, "I don't think you'll have much of a say in the matter."
"I'm sorry... what department did you say you worked in?"
He nuzzled his nose against hers, "Let's not talk anymore."
"What's wrong? Finally out of clever inappropriate things to-" before she could finish the man latched onto her neck and sucked hard. God she loved that. No one had done that to her since high school. Because, she reminded herself, professional adults don't get hickies. She forced herself to push him off.
"Emma," he said, stroking her face, "darling, don't make me beg."
"We shouldn't. I've only known you for thirty minutes. I don't even know your name."
"Aye, but that's the fun part. Just two ships passing in the night."
"What if I see you at work?" she asked as he kissed her neck.
"Then you'll be a good lass and stay quiet while I fuck you in a broom closet."
She moaned lustfully, "You're filthy."
He chuckled and slid his hand between her legs, up to the apex of her thighs. "Well, I think that what you've done to your panties is rather filthy, Miss Swan." She gasped when, with a tight snap, he ripped them away. "Ah-ah!" he sang, stuffing the flimsy things in his jacket pocket, "These are mine now." His hand quickly returned to her dripping sex and explored her folds. "Bloody hell."
Emma smirked, "Is that the best you can do? Ripping my panties off? What are you gonna do next? Throw me onto the-?" She stopped short when he entered her with two fingers, and gasped when he made a come hither motion inside her, somehow finding her g-spot like he had a fucking GPS. No guy knew that move but he was rubbing it like a scratch off.
"Do you want me to keep going?" he asked in a voice that indicated her answer wouldn't make much of a difference, he simply wanted to know.
She tried to speak but he sped up his ministrations sending shocks of pleasure deep into her core. Then, in a blink he stopped.
"No, please!" she whined, desperate to chase the feeling he had bestowed on her.
"Please what?"
"Please keep going."
He resumed his movements with a light chuckle. Gently he pushed her down onto the desk and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Miss Swan," he said, looking down on her as if she were a meal he was about to devour, "I have spent my entire adult life learning how to please a woman and I think it has all been leading up to this moment so that I can watch you come all over my desk."
"Your desk?" she asked before he suddenly began thrusting his hooked fingers into her at a maddening pace. She grabbed his wrist but he was strong and forceful. After a moment she loosened her grip and sank into the sensations. She moaned as her walls began to spasm.
With one hand he pulled the top of dress down past her breasts leaving the thick straps to pin her arms to her sides. "Yes," he said while she writhed, her arms tugging at the straps that didn't give, "this is exactly how I like you. All tied up for me. Come on my fingers, Emma."
Her body responded without her permission, sending her into a spiral of pleasure that seemed to never end. The mysterious sex god fucked her through it all and her moans grew louder with every wave as each was a little more powerful than the last. Her jack rabbit had never made her do that.
When she finally came back to Earth she felt him sucking on one of her nipples. She moaned, "Thank you." and blinked back the tears that had gathered in her eyes from the mind blowing orgasm. He released her breast and brought his face to hers.
"You enjoyed that, did you?" He asked, pulling her upright. "Well, if you really want to thank me you can keep the tradition alive."
She squinted at him through the dark, "Huh?"
He gently bumped her chin up to the ceiling. Hanging above them was a small bunch of mistletoe. When she looked back he was grinning ear to ear. Emma rolled her eyes. "Really?"
His face inched closer to hers. She closed her eyes and wondered if his stubble would make her lips raw. Then, just when she could practically taste the rum on his tongue, the door to the office opened.
A light streamed in from the hallway. "Are you fucking serious, Killian?" Emma scrambled to fix her dress as a blonde woman turned on the lights and stormed into the room.
"Killian?" she asked, too startled and embarrassed to dwell on the connection.
The woman was screaming and hurling pillows from the couches at the man as he hurried to zip his pants, "This is unbelievable! You are a complete idiot! You no good, piece of shit, playboy, walking cliche!"
"Jeez," Emma said, "who are you, his mother?"
"No, I'm his date!"
Emma looked at Killian. Killian. It couldn't be Killian Jones. She looked around at the office and the 6 foot 2 skeleton seething by the coffee table. The look on his face was one of utter chagrin. "Emma-"
She slapped him hard across the cheek before he could finish and hurried out of the room as fast as she could.
KEKEKEKEKEKEKE
Emma walked back into work on Monday morning with a scowl on her face. It had been there every since Saturday night when that idiot had gone and made her evening somehow worse than it already was. She tried not to think about how he had also made it so much better.
When she reached her corner office she found Mary Margaret pacing frantically inside.
"There you are!" she exclaimed as soon as Emma walked through the glass door. "Where the hell have you been?! David and I have been worried sick!"
Emma rolled her eyes. Sometimes it was like they thought they were her parents. "Everything's fine. I just... wanted to be alone. You know how I feel about the holidays." she said, sitting down at her sleek modern desk.
"Emma, you arrived at the party, talked to us for maybe three minutes, said you were going to get some punch and then just never came back!" Emma winced as Mary Margaret's voice trailed off into a worry ridden screech. "I mean, did something happen? Was it something we said?"
"No!" Emma sighed, "Listen, I just got weirded out. It's no big deal. I'm fine. Everything's fine.
The woman didn't look convinced but she sat down indicating she was ready to go over the schedule. "At 9:00 you've got a meeting with Whale in logistics to go over the analytics report."
"Again?"
"You made the appointment last week when you said you found a problem with his numbers. You were supposed to-"
"I was supposed to go over them again and figure out if it was his data collection service or my algorithm!" she exclaimed, slamming her fist into her desk. "How much time have I got? An hour?"
"Actually... you have a last minute appointment that I don't think you can push."
"What? I never schedule appointments this early."
"I got an email at 2:00 this morning from some executive assistant I've never heard of. She must be new. Killian Jones wants to meet with you in his office for a departmental briefing."
"Oh, fuck me!" Emma moaned and banged her head dramatically on her desk.
Mary Margaret stammered, "I-I don't think you're in trouble. He just wants to get up to speed on-"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." she grumbled a stood from her desk. "Walk with me."
As she walked briskly past the sea of cubicles Emma rattled off commands to her assistant. "Get that ad agency on the phone sometime this afternoon. I want to see the new promotional materials before they go to print. I'll look at them on the jet to North Carolina next week."
"Actually, I got an email from Zelena saying that they wanted to push the video shoot back a month."
Emma shook her head as they onto the elevator, "Uh uh, I want that commercial edited in time for March Madness. It took me six months and ten million dollars to negotiate for those time slots, and tell that bitch Regina that I don't care if she is the best creative director in the western hemisphere I want to speak to the production crew myself. I do not want a repeat of the internet short incident. We sent that family flowers, didn't we? You know what, that reminds me. I need to talk to that dickless prick Gold in legal. A bunch of frat guys in Texas used one of our move-yourself trucks to transport a 50 gallon aquarium with a live shark inside."
"It died in transport?"
"Apparently it was very expensive. The email's in my important folder. Start a case file and I'll work with Gold on our compensatory options. We'll need to get PR in the loop, too, so copy in Kathryn in case these guys go to the media. Make a call to Elsa at Fox. One of the morons has a dad that works at Time Warner so if they want to make a stink they'll go to her first." Mary Margaret struggled to scribble it all down in her notebook. "Oh, and listen," she turned to her colleague and friend hoping she was really listening, "I don't know how much things are going to change with this new guy in charge but, I just want you to know... nothing's gonna change with us."
Mary Maragaret smiled but was kind enough to let the moment pass without another word. When Emma stepped onto the top floor Mary Margaret asked, "Anything else you want me to do?"
"Yeah," she turned and just before the doors closed she said, "I want you to google the shit out of Killian Jones."
KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE
The office looked different in daylight. It had two windows that overlooked the city. In the corner she spotted the decanter of rum and couldn't help but blush. She remembered the way he had tasted, like spices and debauchery.
"Please, come in, Miss Swan."
That silky smooth voice sent chills up her spine. She walked towards the desk made of blonde tiger wood where he sat with his back turned. Emma crossed her arms, "You know I have work to do."
Killian swiveled around to look at her. He looked good in daylight, too. His hair was perfectly disheveled and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "That is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about." he said, slapping the edge of his desk in exactly the same spot she had soaked just two nights before.
Emma straightened her form fitting black dress and walked over to where he sat. She leaned against the desk in front of him and tried not to look directly at his gorgeous face. "What do you want?"
"What do you want? That's the question, Miss Swan."
"Is this a trick question?"
"Not at all. I am simply curious. You have been the marketing director of my company for two years and I am sure that there is something you would like. More vacation time, a promotion, a raise...?"
She squinted her eyes suspiciously at him. It was definitely a trick question. "I need to reallocate some funds in the marketing budget to allow for consumer research on the 3rd and 8th sectors of business model 236."
He rolled his eyes, "How boring."
"This company hasn't done any serious market research in almost eight years. We are paying our ad agency tens of thousands a week and we can't find the funds for a couple of experiments?"
"Experiments? You're not performing any marketing experience with my company. This is a business, not a university."
"You can't expect to find the right marketing strategy if you don't experiment with your own services. I'm talking about a sample of less than ten thousand prospective consumers."
"That's not happening." he said firmly, "As for the research, I can get you the funds. But I want daily reports on the progress and a presentation completed by Friday."
She looked around, "That's it?"
He smirked, "You're a smart lass. I was hoping you would perhaps... show your gratitude in some way."
Emma raised a brow, "In what way?"
He stood from his chair and pressed her back onto the desk. "I will ask you for a second time to simply have a little holiday spirit."
She cocked her head. He looked up and she did the same. Above them still was a bundle of mistletoe.
Emma couldn't help but smile. He was charming in his black suit and red tie. She didn't stop him as he inched towards her. His nose brushed hers sending shocks through her skin. She wanted to know what his kiss was like. She'd wanted to know all fucking weekend. But just before their lips met she said, "I also want more direct to consumer ad space on HGTV."
He was so close she could feel it when he answered, "HGTV is too expensive. You can have the Discovery Channel. Family programming only."
"I'm not asking for primetime."
"And I'm not negotiating." He grabbed her firmly by the nape of the neck, just as he had the night before. Butterflies erupted within her as he restricted her movements.
"What do you want." she asked, "Really?"
He laughed, stroking her face with his other hand, "I want you to do absolutely everything I tell you to. I want you to spread your legs for me whenever I say, to let me touch you however I please, and to perform all manner of depravity at my command, and mine alone."
"You want to have sex with me?"
His lips twitched with a smile, "I want to own you. I want to use your body and train you like a slave."
"I'm no slave."
"Well," he shrugged innocently, "then you're training will have to be extensive."
"You think you can buy me like a whore?"
At that his eyes hardened and his grip tightened making her wince, "Everyone in this Godforsaken world is a whore, Miss Swan. Some are simply more expensive than others."
She eyed him critically. Emma realized that she held all the cards. He was truly willing to pay for sex with professional favoritism. She could use that. "What do I have to do for HGTV?"
He looked at her for a moment, then said, "If you want those time slots I'll let you have them, but you must do two things." He opened a drawer and pulled out something that looked like red cloth. "First, you must get through this entire work day without begging me to fuck you."
Emma rolled her eyes, "That sounds doable."
"Oh, I'm not done. You see you must also-" he dangled the red panties in front of her face "-wear these until 5:00 this afternoon."
She took the underwear from him. Other than the color they were pretty boring. Just bikinis made out of extra thick fabric. "Wouldn't have pegged you for the granny panties type."
Killian laughed, "Oh, these are very special panties, Miss Swan. You see," he said pointing to a small wire hidden in the seam, "they are specifically designed for training naughty girls like to you to be obedient and subservient to their masters." Emma shot him a doubtful look but he continued, "They transmit directly to my phone so I'll know if you've taken them off. I'll also know every time you orgasm."
"Why would I orgasm with these things on?"
"You'll see." He sat back down in his chair and nudged her legs apart. "You will give that presentation to me today, just before you go home."
"I don't have time to get those numbers together by this afternoon!"
He reached up her dress as if she were nothing more than a manikin and pulled her olive green panties down her legs. She stepped out of them, hoping he didn't hear the hitch in her breath as his hands left trails of electricity across her rarely touched skin. She stepped into the red panties without a fight making him smile. "I want you in here at 4:30. All you have to do to get the that ad space is get through the entire presentation without bending over my desk and offering yourself to me like a fucking Christmas present." As he pulled up the panties he gave her ass a hard slap, "You can go now, Miss Swan."
Emma looked down at him for a brief moment, then hurried out of his office. She didn't want to know what he had in store for her, but she knew that if she stared into those blue eyes any longer she would do something she'd regret. Just before she slipped through the door she heard a familiar voice remind her that no man should ever be allowed to have power over her again, so she used one parting sentiment to put the power back in her hands. "Oh, and, Mr. jones?" she said innocently from the doorway, "Try not to run this company into the ground before I get back. Everyone is counting on you."
KEKEKEKEKEKEKE
Emma's day surprised her by proceeding as normal. She went to her meetings and put out all the usual fires her job description often entailed. She even managed to move a few things around so that she could get a semi-decent presentation ready for her skeevy boss. In truth, she was a little excited. What were a few sexual favors for some things her department desperately needed? She could finally get the new trade show booths she'd been begging for and the Olympic sponsorship deal she'd had in her dreams since she was promoted. With access to the CEO she could bypass the board completely on proposals like her partnership with EPA and the risky promotions none of the other members understood. Not to mention all the personal swag she could milk out of this. She would let him do whatever he wanted, fake a few orgasms, and milk him for all he was worth before slamming him with a lawsuit so airtight that asshole Gold would shit diamonds.
Her last meeting of the day was with Whale who had thankfully agreed to push their morning meeting back a few hours. He sat down in her uncomfortable power play chairs and wasted no time. "What do want, Miss Swan? I've had a very busy day so let's get this over with."
Emma shifted in her swivel chair and said, "As you know, Whale, I've been going over the analytics and some things aren't matching up. I think it might have something to do with your data collection service."
"Data collections is fine. I checked the numbers myself."
She sighed, "Then why are-"
"Why are the numbers telling you that this company has lost almost fifty million dollars in less than three quarters?" he leaned back in his chair with a smug look, "Maybe it's your algorithm."
She glared at him, but didn't respond. "I want to do a manual check of all data collection units, on the ground, in the air, and at sea."
He scoffed, "That's going to be very expensive."
"How long will it take you?"
"Oh, I'm not going do it. I was just informing you that if your were to do it, it would be very expensive. I should of phrased it better."
"I can't set prices with inaccurate data."
"The data isn't accurate, Miss Swan. If profits aren't going down it's because your algorithm isn't working anymore."
She seethed, "I want your raw numbers. I'll compare them Euro data points and go from there."
He laughed, "You're really going to waste manpower on a multi-million dollar witch hunt just so you won't have to admit that your magical math problem is bullshit?"
Emma raised her voice, "Whale-" but instead of finishing she jumped suddenly as if she'd been shocked. She blinked in confusion. Between her legs the granny panties Killian had put on her were vibrating lightly. She rolled her eyes and continued in a softer voice, "Ahem... The units haven't been serviced in ten years. It's time."
"And will your department be paying for this?"
"Data collections is under logistics."
He balked, "Only as a technicality! Those numbers go straight to you!"
"This isn't a negotiation. I-" Emma flinched as the vibration increased. She took a deep breath as warmth began to gather right at her sensitive bundle of nerves. "Your department services the trucks. The units are part of the trucks."
"You know that the Teamsters are about to renegotiate their contracts. They'll use this to take us to the cleaners!"
As the vibration increased making her see stars Emma said through gritted teeth, "Yeah, well, I don't know what to tell you, Whale. That's why nobody likes unions." Her walls began to pulse along with her throbbing clit as she approached the edge.
"Has this been run by the new guy?"
Emma tried to speak but when she felt herself falling she yelled, "Get out!"
Whale stood up before the words even left her mouth. "Happily." he grumbled and slammed the door behind him. Emma gripped her desk with both hands as she orgasmed in her chair. The walls of her office were glass so she laid her head down and covered her face as the waves that emanated from her spasming walls wreaked delicious havoc inside her body.
When it was over she breathed through the aftershocks until they were done and flinched when her cellphone buzzed. It was a text from an unknown number that read only:
Good girl ;)
She looked at the time. Of course, she was due in his office in a few minutes. She grabbed her flashdrive and stood, straightening her dress. If that was really the best he could do, she had this in the bag.
KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE
"Miss Swan! So lovely to see you, again. Was it only this morning that you graced my office with your glowing presence?"
Emma walked confidently into Killian's office and snatched the remote to the digital display off the blonde wood coffee table. On it she noticed a few business magazines with his face on the cover. What a narcissist. "If you'll have a seat we can get started." she said just as she felt his arms around her making her wonder if he ever asked permission before he touched a woman.
"Have you enjoyed my gift?" he asked, reaching under her dress and snapping at the hem of the mechanical panties.
Emma turned over her shoulder and said casually, "They're alright."
He grinned but backed off allowing her to begin as he took a seat on the couch. "You see, this graph shows the thirty to fifty market. That one's doing fine. We need more research here," she pointed to some points on the multi-line table, "and here, if we want to tailor our advertising to them."
"Eighteen to thirty-year-olds?" he scoffed, "Emma, love, the millennials are all broke. The only companies that advertise directly to them are Redbull and pornography subscription services."
"No, you see, this market is growing faster than any other. They're moving to college, then to their new jobs. We should be doing more direct to consumer marketing in that sector but in order to do that I need a more thorough market analysis. It's very important that we-" she was stopped short by the vibrating in her underwear. She cleared her throat, "It's very important that we learn as much as we can about post graduates because despite what these numbers show they actually use our move-yourself trucks more than any other age group."
"The move-yourself division. I heard you saved it from flatlining. Is that true?"
She opened her mouth to answer but faltered when the vibration increased causing her walls to flutter. She felt so empty. Emma looked down at the handsome man on the couch with his phone in his hand. All she could do was nod.
He stood up and walked over to her as her legs began to tremble. "The business to business model worked for this company for ten years before you came along." he put his hands on her hips, increasing the vibration with a subtle swipe of his fingers. As she came he watched her and said, "You and that little algorithm made me millions of dollars. Brought us into the direct to consumer market and now, from what I hear, I'm losing millions of dollars a week because the numbers no longer add up."
"I'm gonna fix it." she whimpered as the blood rushed back to her head.
Killian wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her over to his desk which appeared to be his favorite place to sexually harass her. He nudged her legs apart and settled between them. Emma was panting. The vibrations were working her up again. This orgasm would be even more intense than the last. "I know you will. We both will." he said, pushing a sweaty lock of hair from her face. "And I'm not going to fire you for spending billions of dollars on a failed experiment, just as long as you say four little words, right now."
Emma tried not to let her eyes roll back in her head as the vibrations increased. She could feel her walls spasming again and God did she wish they had something to grip onto. "What?'
He smirked and whispered lasciviously in her ear, "Killian, please fuck me."
Her chest heaved up and down. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel him inside her, but she still had far too much pride for that. Emma opened her mouth to refuse just as the vibrations stopped. She breathed, confused. The unbearable sensations were gone. She was empty and dripping on his desk. She looked up and saw the mistletoe hanging above them, then she looked back at Killian with his sexy scruff and expensive suit. He wasn't like other men. This guy was powerful. He had more money than her, he had more influence. He was used to getting what he wanted. Emma licked her lips just before grabbing his lapels and pulling him to her. His lips crashed into hers. They swayed for a moment before his hand came up to hold her face. His mouth opened and hers did the same. He chased her lips, using his other arm to wrap around her waist and pull her flush to him. She wrapped his legs around him and ground her core, most likely soaking his pants. The friction wasn't enough. He devoured her, the sound of their lips smacking was so gratuitous and yet it turned her on even more. "Fuck me!" she pleaded. It felt so damn good to be kissed my a man who took more than he gave that she didn't care what a massively bad idea it was, she just wanted to be taken by him right there on his desk.
He chuckled darkly and pulled slightly away, "That's what I like to hear." He adjusted his tie as she watched him in confusion. "Unfortunately, I won't be fucking you today, Miss Swan."
"W-why not?" she asked.
He grinned, "Because I've decided I don't just want to fuck you. I want to ruin you." She shivered as his hand slipped under her dress and past her soaked panties. "You're a strong independent woman, Emma. I like those. You tell everyone what to do and they obey without question. Everyone except me." He inserted two fingers into her wet core and massaged her walls like the fucking professional that he was. She closed her eyes. How had he made her want it so bad. "Here's how this is going to work. When I call you into my office you'll do everything that I say. In return I'll give you all the funding you want and anything else you desire. If I were to take you right now, it would just be physical for you. Scratching and itch. Before I can have you I want to teach you to be subservient, something I'm guessing you're not very good at, and when I finally do fuck you, it's not gonna be on your terms. Is that clear?"
Emma nodded, so lost in a haze of lust she couldn't even speak. No one had ever talked to her like that. Never.
He said, "Turn around and bend over my desk." She hesitated, but eventually slid off the desk and did as he said. "Lower." he said, and she rested her upper half on the desk so that her ass was in the air. He pushed her dress up to her waist. "You're algorithm is out of date and yet you've been using it for a year. You've lost me millions in just a few quarters and you have to be punished." Emma yelped when his hand came down on her sensitive skin. "Ooh... I like that sound. Make it again." he spanked her again causing her to make the same noise. "I wonder what you sound like if I spank you harder?" She felt the panties come to life once more as he spanked her with more force. This time she moaned. She loved being spanked, not that she ever asked for it. It wasn't the same if she had to ask. "Bloody hell, Emma. You have no idea how hard it is not to shove my cock in that tight cunt of yours and fuck you until you scream.
She managed a scoff, "You couldn't make me scream."
He spanked her again. Her ass was on fire, but the pain went straight to her core and when he increased the vibrations she came hard. He spanked her through it, saying disgusting things that she both hated and loved.
It was the hottest thing that had happened to her in... well... ever, and she never wanted it to end, but once her ass was raw and she was begging him to give her a rest because her sex was too sensitive for more he pulled her upright and kissed her senseless. His kiss was like the ocean. Deep and fathomless. His hands ran over every inch of her curves and she wished desperately that her dress wasn't in the way.
When they parted they were both out of breath. "I have to have you, Emma. I won't take no for an answer."
"This was your only chance. You'll never get it again."
He bit his lip for a moment and said, "Darling, don't you know... this is just the beginning."
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