Summoned by the CEO Read online

The desire to submit.

  A desire that scares her as much as it arouses me.

  “Have you heard the rumors about me?” I say softly, my breath catching in my throat as I clench my fists to hold back my ferocious need to claim Angie, a need that’s been held in check for what feels like forever, a need that I know is making her nipples stiffen, making her hot and wet beneath that black skirt.

  “The only rumor about you is that it’s weird as hell that there are no rumors,” she says, blinking and glancing down as I stand before her like a statue, my cock so hard there’s no point in even trying to hide my erection. A tiny gasp escapes her perfectly pouty red lips, and I almost groan as I imagine those lips wrapped around my shaft, her thick thighs spread as she squats before me and takes me into her mouth while massaging my balls, coaxing me to climax as she sucks me to heaven and back, maybe hell and back . . .

  I whip my body around, turning to the window and groaning like I’m losing my mind. The images are so clear it’s like I’m hallucinating, going insane. I wonder if this woman is a curvy little witch casting a spell on my cock, and then I almost laugh when I imagine what Cosmo would say if I claimed that I’d lost control of my body because a woman used magic on me and therefore I wasn’t responsible for how hard I fucked her, how deep I rammed her, how much semen I poured into her warm, tight—

  “Are you OK, Mister Archer?” she says from behind me, and I realize I’m rubbing my temples while muttering to myself and shaking my head.

  “No, Miss Angie,” I say, still with my back to her as my black curtains move in a breeze that seems to be coming from nowhere and everywhere. “I am most certainly not fucking OK.” Then I turn around, knowing I have no choice but to spill it all, to just tell her how I feel, tell her what I feel, what I want. What I want now. Now and forever. “And I won’t be OK until I have you. I won’t be OK until you’re mine. Until you’re my woman. Until you’re my wife. Until you’re my forever.”

  Angie swoons in her seat, and I wonder if she’s going to pass out. Maybe she’ll just fucking die of shock and that’ll be the end of our story. I can see the headlines now: Enigmatic CEO turns out to be a psycho killer after all. What a fucking surprise. He is who we suspected he was. The End.

  “I . . . I don’t even know what to . . . to . . . I mean, Mister Archer, you realize that you sound so . . . so . . .” she stammers, staring at me with a mixture of shock and wonder, like she’s still wondering if this is a dream, a trick, a prank for the cameras.

  “So crazy?” I say, putting my hands on my hips and shrugging as I decide to just fucking own it, own my madness, own my need, own whatever I’m feeling, no matter what the consequences. “I know it’s crazy. But I swear I knew you were mine when I saw you a month ago, Angie. I thought it was just lust and loneliness, but after watching you for a month I know it’s more than that. It’s love, Angie. It’s love.”

  “Wait, you noticed me a month ago?” she says, frowning and biting her lip. “And you’ve been . . . been watching me?!” She shoots a glance at those cameras, the color rushing to her face again like she’s both creeped out and turned on at the same time. “OK, this meeting is getting way above my pay grade. I don’t completely understand what’s happening here, but I do understand that it’s not normal. This isn’t normal, Mister Archer. I think maybe we need to—”

  “Fuck normal,” I snap, narrowing my eyes as I loom above her. I spread my thick arms out wide and grin, turning slowly in my big, empty office on the top floor of my dark tower. “What is normal, anyway? A million years ago a normal courtship would be me grabbing you by the hair, flipping you over, and taking you hard, fast, and deep. Then I’d toss you in my cave, protect you from the other beastlike men who want to claim you, and watch you get pregnant with my caveman babies. Then I’d do it again the next year. And the next. There was a time when that was normal. Then we evolved to arranged marriages, and now we’ve graduated to men and women swiping through photographs of each other on their fucking phones to decide who’s going to make a suitable mate. Is any of that normal? Is me seeing you in the flesh and deciding you were mine somehow worse than seeing a posed photograph of you on some online dating site?”

  Angie bursts out laughing, her big, beautiful body shivering with mirth as she covers her mouth and laughs some more. “Oh, my God,” she says, shaking her head and sighing. “Did you just summarize the entire history of dating in one crazy rant?! Yeah, this is way beyond my pay grade. Way beyond my job description. You either need a shrink or need to be on stage doing stand-up comedy or something.”

  I can’t help but smile when I see how her face lights up with surprise and delight. “Everything I just said is accurate. Seriously, Angie. Think about how people meet these days. It’s all photographs and images and poses and . . . and . . . fakeness. Pure fucking fakeness! There’s nothing real about staring at a bunch of photographs on your damned phone and deciding yeah, this person is kinda hot or whatever. That’s no way to meet someone.”

  “And this is?!” she says, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head. “Wait, is that what this is? Are you . . . are you asking me out, Mister Archer?”

  I pause and scratch my head. I rub my jawline. I raise an eyebrow. In the past ten minutes I’ve just blurted out that she’s mine, just insisted I love her, just told her I wanted her as my wife. Then I went off on some tirade about how I want to drag her to my cave and knock her up. Finally I delivered a PhD-level lecture on the sorry state of online dating. This woman should be screaming and running for the hills, but she’s not. Nope, she’s sitting right here in all her curvy glory. Sitting here with something in her eyes that tells me that maybe I’m not that crazy after all.

  Or maybe I am crazy, and she’s as fucking crazy as I am.

  And then I know the crazy-train has left the station, and so without any more hesitation, without any more second-guessing, without giving a fuck that there are three cameras silently recording every word, every breath, every sound, every sight, I step forward, lean in, and kiss her.

  I kiss her.

  By God, I kiss her.

  3

  ANGIE

  Ohmygod he’s kissing me, comes the thought just as Aran Archer’s warm lips smother mine, just as his big hands cup my soft cheeks, just as his masculine scent overwhelms me like a drug. He’s kissing me and I’m . . . I’m . . .

  I’m kissing him back!

  I try to say something but Archer pulls me up off the chair and pushes his tongue deep into my mouth, fisting my hair with one hand, cupping my ass with the other, grinding his crotch into mine as I almost collapse from the ferocity of his advance, the fury of his need, the dominance of his touch.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind I know the cameras are running, and for some sick, twisted reason that sends my arousal spiraling upwards even more until my panties are soaked, my pussy is dripping, my nipples are hard and pointy like arrowheads.

  “The cameras,” I murmur, breaking from the kiss but unable to break from his clutches. “We need to . . . to . . . oh, God, what are you doing?”

  I gasp as Archer slides his hands up beneath my black skirt, raising it up over the curve of my rump. He grabs the waistbands of my panties and my tights and effortlessly rips them down the middle as I cry out in shock at his strength. The crazy thought that these are my favorite panties whips through me like my life is flashing before my eyes and I’m about to die or something.

  “Those tights cost almost forty dollars,” I mutter in my madness as my boss’s rough fingers spread the smooth cheeks of my buttocks and touch me where I’ve never been touched. My mind is mush and my body is no better. I’m leaning into Archer’s hard, massive body, completely helpless even though I’m the furthest thing from some helpless chick. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but it’s happening and I can’t stop it.

  I won’t stop it.

  “Fill out an expense
report,” Archer growls into my hair as he claws at my ass and grinds his heavy erection into my crotch that’s barely covered by the remnants of my panties and tights. “Which I’ll reject, of course.”

  “Ohmygod, you would reject it, wouldn’t you? I heard you’re ruthless when it comes to keeping costs down at Archer Industries,” I say with a gurgling noise that starts as a giggle but quickly transforms to a moan.

  “What else have you heard about me?” Archer whispers, kissing my lips once more and then turning me around and pushing me down on his desk with a mixture of gentleness and force that makes me gasp again. “On your back, please. Legs up. Here we go. Oh, fuck, yes. You’re so damned gorgeous, Angie. I want to lose myself between those legs. Taste those thighs. Lick you until my desk is shining with your wetness. Lie back. Now, please. Do it. Do what I say.”

  Before I know it I’m on my back on my boss’s desk, feet up on the smooth, polished walnut finish, thick thighs spread for his hungry tongue. I’m doing what he says even though I swear it’s not like me, that this is the last thing I imagined myself doing, that in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have predicted what was gonna happen when I saw a meeting notice from Aran Archer and spent the entire morning wondering what the hell I did to get called to the big boss’s office.

  But I’m no longer concerned with what I did or even what I’m doing right now.

  Because I’m overwhelmed by what he’s doing.

  “Oh, shit,” I groan, my body tensing up as Archer pulls the tatters of my tights and panties off me until I’m bare-ass naked from the waist down, my slit spread wide as he holds me down on the desk and sniffs my crotch like an animal breathing his mate’s scent. I almost come just from the sensation of his warm breath ruffling the delicate hairs lining my dark nether lips, and the moment Archer starts to nuzzle my wet sex and lick me with long, forceful strokes, I do come.

  I come like a whore, like a slut, like a woman owned and possessed, dominated and claimed, out of her mind and out of her body.

  A woman out of control.

  A woman in . . . in . . .

  In love?

  The thought makes me come again, and I reach down and grab Archer’s thick dark hair as he drives his stiff tongue so deep into my cunt I feel like I’m being fucked. I scream as he reaches beneath me and cups my asscheeks, raising my hips and eating me out with such fury I’m almost delirious with ecstasy.

  “I love you,” he’d told me after calling me into his office and unflinchingly admitted that he’d been watching me for a month and decided I was his. And now the word love is going through my head too.

  “This can’t be love,” I mutter, whipping my head from side to side as I thrash under Archer’s strong hold. “It’s obsession and loneliness, madness and insanity, lust and pent-up need. That’s not love. It can’t be love. If it’s love, then I don’t know what love means.”

  Maybe it means nothing at all, I wonder as I groan and gasp while Archer finishes me off with a kiss planted squarely on my hot, throbbing slit. Then he stands upright and whips his shirt off, unbuckles and unzips, pulling down his black silk underwear and releasing his cock that’s so long, thick, and hard I just stare in shock.

  My vision blurs even as the sheer physical presence of Aran Archer comes into supreme focus until his naked body is all I see. His chest is heavy and broad, with pectorals like slabs of marble. His arms are thick like tree-trunks, with veins popping all over his bulging biceps and forearms, throbbing like snakes under his bronzed skin. I can see every muscle on his contoured torso, and I gasp as I follow the masculine V of his narrow waist down to that beast of a cock that’s curved upwards in all its glory, oozing with pre-cum that drips gently off his swollen tip like dew from a log.

  Archer’s balls are huge, heavy, full of his seed that I somehow know is about to go into me, deep into me, filling me like the rain fills a valley. I don’t even understand what’s bringing out these thoughts in me, but for some reason I think back to what Archer said about how a million years ago he’d have grabbed me by the hair, dragged me back to his cave, and plunged that cock into me again and again until I popped out his caveman babies just like nature intended.

  I stare in utter disbelief as Archer slides me farther down along his huge desk and clambers up with me. He’s on his knees, holding my legs apart and looking into my eyes with an unwavering gaze that makes me wet again, makes me hot again, makes me . . . makes me believe.

  “This is love,” he says with a confidence that’s so sincere, so strong, so full of truth that I almost cry, almost break, almost believe that it can be love just because he said so. “You’re not my whore or my slut or a meaningless fling. You’re my woman, Angie. You’re my woman, and you’re going to understand that in the most primal, fundamental way. You feel it in your body, sense it in your soul, hear it in your heartbeat. Now shut your fucking brain off and let me take you the way a man takes his woman, the way an animal takes his mate. Now say you love me, Angie. Say it now. Fucking say it!”

  “I love you,” I blurt out as Archer fists his cock and drags its heavy tip up along my slit, gathering my juices along the way. He presses his cockhead down firmly on my throbbing clit, making me almost black out with ecstasy as he grinds me to another climax that comes so quick and hard I don’t even realize it’s here until I feel the tears roll down my cheeks.

  I’m still coming as Archer reaches down and pulls the rest of my clothes off me, snaps my bra-strap like it’s a thread, and then groans as he grasps my breasts, pinches my nipples, and then places his cock right between my globes like it belongs there.

  I stare down along my naked, shivering body, nodding in disbelief as Archer brings his oozing cockhead close to my wet lips. His musk is heavy in the air, and I can smell my own sex all over him too. He’s massaging my breasts so hard I’m snorting, pinching my nipples with such force I’m sweating, pressing my body against the desk with almost all his weight as he straddles me and slowly hunches over as I open wide for him.

  And then he’s inside my mouth and I just close my eyes and begin to suck. I’m so far gone that I can’t possibly even think about what I’m doing, where I’m doing it, and with whom I’m doing it. My pussy is dripping all over the desk, and I can feel Archer get harder and bigger in my mouth as I close my lips on his shaft and roll my tongue around his cockhead.

  His balls gently slap against my chin as he groans and begins to fuck me in the mouth with that same mix of gentleness and force, like this isn’t just lust but something more. The sensation is unfathomably overwhelming, and I reach up and gently take his balls in my hand, delighting in the way he roars and tenses up like my touch is gonna make him explode down my throat.

  He keeps going without coming, and I can feel him trying to hold back as he shouts in ecstasy and moves up until he’s directly above me in the most dominant, filthy way, driving into my mouth in the sickest way imaginable.

  Then suddenly he pulls out, his cock slapping against my cheeks, spraying me with pre-cum and saliva as he leans down, licks my face, and then lines himself up with my slit.

  And before I realize it he’s pushed his way into me, driven that throbbing beast of a cock so far up my cunt I swear I can still feel him in my throat.

  “Ohmygod, what’s happening?!” I scream as Archer grabs my wrists and holds me down, his hips already pounding me into his desk as he starts to fuck me with everything he’s got, like he’s lost control just like I have.

  “We are happening, Angie,” he growls as he bites my neck and rams back into me with such force I hear things falling off his heavy desk from the vibration. “I need to claim you, own you, possess you. You’re mine, Angie. And this is how I make you mine. Mine now. Mine forever. All mine. Mine. Mine!”

  4

  ARCHER

  Mine. Mine. Mine!

  That word echoes in my head like a bullet ricocheting back and forth, turning
my brain to mush, turning the world into a dream. Somewhere at the back of my swirling brain comes the thought that I’m done for, that years of holding back have turned me into a depraved madman, a sex-crazed psycho who fixated on a woman, watched her like a pervert on camera, and is now holding her down on his desk and fucking her so hard the desk is bouncing.

  Oh yeah, and he’s mumbling that he loves her. That probably makes it all right. The cameras will pick that up and anyone who sees it will see a heartwarming coupling between two consenting lovers and not a powerful man taking advantage of a vulnerable woman in his employ.

  She’s my employee, comes the voice of reason from somewhere inside me, a voice that was so strong for so many years, kept me on the straight and narrow, kept me focused on building an empire, dominating my industry, turning the tiny business founded by Pops into something bigger than he could have imagined, than he was capable of imagining, than he fucking dared to imagine.

  But after years of intense focus have I just snapped, broken, lost control, thrown it all away for a secretary in a black dress? When did I turn into a fucking stereotype of the horny boss giving in to his animal lust? When did I decide to let go and give myself to a desire so strong it’s like a drug, a need so fierce it’s like I’m possessed, a drive to make her mine so great that I’d turn my back on everything else I own just to own Angie.

  My eyes go wide and then roll up in my head as I let out a guttural cry that’s part ecstasy part anguish, and the next moment I’m coming inside her warm vagina, exploding like a geyser, flooding her like a tidal wave rolling in from the deep, dark sea. My balls tighten and release as Angie screams and her body thrashes under me. I’m still holding her arms above her head as I pound into her, filling her again and again, my balls serving up so much seed she’s already overflowing all over my desk.

  Soon my desk is so slick with my semen and her wetness that we’re sliding around like kids on a slip-n-slide. I keep going, harder and harder, feeling her scream and come all over my balls as I pour more of my load into her. It feels so raw and wild I can’t think anymore, let alone see or hear a thing.