All Chapters of Steamy Sessions: A Rosy Forbidden Collection: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Danielle’t last the week. The last thing I needed was for the head manager to see me like this. A black, Italian leather shoe came down an inch from my hand. I froze, still reaching for the spreadsheet now trapped under the large foot in front of me. It was attached to a leg clad in an impeccably cut suit, and as I ran my eyes upward, I tried not to tremble. A man with wavy dark hair and a cool brown gaze stared down at me, his cruel mouth twisted into a smirk.“Ms. Rowe, I presume?”I tried to push the chestnut strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes back into my bun, but it was no good. I was a hot mess, kneeling on the carpet in a checkered blouse and skirt. “Y-yes?”He reached down and offered his hand, and my mouth suddenly went very, very dry. I’m talking Sahara Desert dry. Something about the way he lo

Danielle“Danielle! Get in here this instant!” A shiver of anticipation raced down my spine and I allowed myself time for a smile before jumping up from my desk. This was the second time Mr. Grant called me into his office today, and from his tone, he sounded like he was about to lose it. Just as I’d planned. I eased open the door and slipped inside, checking my hair to make sure it hadn’t escaped its wrap. Mr. Grant sat on the edge of his desk facing the doorway, perched like a bird of prey. His wavy hair was perfectly in place, but his brown eyes had a wild look behind them, like I was trying his last nerve. “Come here.” His voice was dangerously low. I walked toward him slowly, suddenly feeling nervous. What if my plan backfired? What if instead of punishing me like last time, he just fired me instead? I swallowed, my mouth suddenly drier than a cotton ball. I stopped a couple of feet away from him, but he crooked his finger, beckoning me closer. I gulped and complie

Danielle“Thank you,” I said, and we both knew I wasn’t talking about the robe. I hadn't enjoyed sex that much until today and it was all due to his punishments. He smiled down at me, his dimples breathtaking in the flickering firelight. “Is this really what you want, Danielle? I’m not a gentle man. I never have been.” I put a hand on my backside, feeling the sweet pain where he’d struck me, and bit my lip. “Yes. I want this. I want you.” I’d never been so blunt before, but Mr. Grant brought out a different side of me. A bolder version of me who admitted what she craved, who said what she felt. Even so, I don’t think I would have been able to stand it if he didn’t want me in the same way. I’d grown overtly at

Danielle’s strong arms as he carried me into the cave, sweaty and hazed out from my orgasms. The door closed behind us, and he whispered in my ear. “What’s your safe word?” “white,” I said, grinning against his shoulder, thinking of the day he’d ripped my white shirt off after it stained. His low laugh made his chest rumble against my cheek. “white, it is.” He stopped in front of a swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that I eyed with longing. Mr. Grant lifted me into it as if I weighed no more than a child, and went to work securing my arms over my head, then moving down to spread my legs wide, strapping my ankles in with the supple leather. I was opened up before him, nothing hidden from his view. The hunger burnt in his eyes as his gaze raked over my body. He undid his black tie and slid it to the floor, then unbuttoned his shirt with surgical precision as I watched, just as

Danielle’t believe I was doing this, but the thought of Mr. Grant somewhere below, waiting to turn me on was almost too much to bear. I felt like I was on fire for him, and I hadn’t even seen him yet.I turned the corner, and the foyer opened up beneath me. Several people, expensive looking men and women mingled below.I wanted to stop walking. I wanted to turn around and retreat to the safety of my room, or maybe lock myself in the bathroom and climb out the window. I felt like such an imposter wearing these clothes, tresspassing on this life.Would they be able to tell? Would just one look give me away?I hesitated, my hand hovering over the banister, before I saw him. He was standing near the bar, a glass of scotch