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Savage

Kristen Mullings

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2.3k
Chapter
15
Age Rating
18+

Summary

We spoke only one language. Sex.

He had me by the hair, my body taut in his other arm. I was so wet already I didn’t know if I could take it if he slid inside me.

He bent me over the desk aggressively, but that caused my libido to peak even further. I felt him massaging his hard length against my ass.

I sighed with desire. Needing him. Right here. Right now...

Age Rating 18+ (BDSM)

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The Language of Sex 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Reader Warning

This is an eXXXtremely steamy story ♨️ and Episode 1 starts with some steamy audio 🎧 !
^You might want to listen with your headphones on, or in a private place 😜^

Sage

We spoke only one language. Sex.

He had me by the hair, my body taut in his other arm.

I was so wet already I didn’t know if I could take it if he slid inside me.

He bent me over the desk aggressively, but that caused my libido to peak even further. I felt him massaging his hard length against my ass.

I sighed with desire.

Needing him.

Right here.

Right now.

Finally, his hardened length lowered to my moist entrance and sank oh so deliciously inside me. Every inch slowly pushed me over the edge little by little before he started to thrust at a steady pace.

My toes curled, and I gripped the edges of the desk for dear life, exhaling a tormented and ragged breath.

I arched backward, moaning, so completely overtaken that I didn’t notice I was slipping, falling, toppling off the desk, until I hit the ground with a sickening thud. And blinked.

My clothes were on. I wasn’t in his office, and I wasn’t in the middle of being fucked out of my mind. Nope.

I was on the floor of my cubicle.

“Sage! Wake up!”

I lay there, in front of Ronnie, my cubicle mate, team leader, and best friend. She sank back in her chair and laughed at me.

I laughed along. Ridiculous. Who falls asleep at work, dreaming about their own boss? Goosebumps swept across my skin as I shivered at the thought of that reverie…

It had felt so real.

I sighed, slowly getting to my feet, dusting myself off.

“You know we have a meeting in five, right?” Ronnie asked. “If you didn’t get enough sleep last night, maybe you shouldn’t—”

“I’m fine.”

Nothing was going to stop me from being in that meeting. Being near him. The boss.

Mr. Heinrich.

We gathered our notes and headed for the elevators. I checked myself cautiously in the reflective walls, pushing my long black hair behind my ears, straightening my baby-pink blouse, and opening the second button from my neck to expose a tiny peephole for some cleavage.

If only I had more to show.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Ronnie asked as we stepped into the elevator. “Fantasizing about the boss…”

“No, I’m not.”

I was.

Ronnie pushed the red stop elevator button and gave me her full attention.

“Sage. I’m not bringing you into this meeting because you’re my best friend. I’m bringing you because you’ve got more talent in one strand of that long hair than the other designers have in their whole bodies.”

“Yeah, I’m somethin’ else.”

“There’s my girl!” Ronnie said with a glint in her eye.

Ronnie reactivated the elevator.

“If we knock this one out of the park,” Ronnie continued, “there’s a box of chicken nuggets with your name on it.”

I smiled. She knew full well that I was one of the few on the planet who didn’t like chicken nuggets.

“You’re a chicken nugget,” I asserted.

“No, you’re a chicken nugget!” she shot back.

Ronnie always knew how to pump me up and get my focus back on business.

The elevator doors opened, and there he was. Our boss.

He wore a charcoal-black suit, fitted to hug every inch of his bulging muscles. His hands were in his pockets, tightening the cloth around his manhood smartly.

And his hair was...well, there wasn’t any hair. He had cut it! He had cut his untamable brown hair off!

I loved this new look. It fit him well, putting more focus on his symmetrical bone structure. He was definitely all man, with that chiseled face, square jaw, and hooded, almond-shaped eyes. His lips were full and even.

I was definitely dumb-struck and hell-bound, crushing immensely on my boss.

But who wouldn’t?

He was a Greek god, and I loved it.

Before I could help myself, the word escaped my lips. “Fuck...”

An elbow hit my ribs. Ronnie was staring at me in disbelief. I’d just used an expletive in front of my boss!

Shit!

My cheeks reddened and my palms began to sweat as he arched an inquiring eyebrow my way. The slightest flicker of a smile ran across his lips.

But it disappeared in a flash.

“Miss Beauchamp, Miss Sauvignon,” he said, to Ronnie and myself, respectively.

At the sound of his lascivious, deep voice, I felt myself getting wet. So wet I wondered if my stockings could absorb all of it.

More importantly, if I reacted this way to his voice, what would happen if the man actually touched me?

I took a deep breath to try and expel the thought. It was crazy. My boss wasn’t interested in me that way. There was no way.

As we stepped out of the elevator, though, Mr. Heinrich turned to me.

“Miss Sauvignon, I would like a word with you after the meeting.”

My stomach dropped, but I managed to nod.

“Yes, sir.”

Bracing myself for the worst.

***

We worked at one of the top graphic design companies in the country. Ronnie was well on her way to becoming one of Mr. Heinrich’s most respected employees, and just from her presentation alone, I could see why.

She was organized, meticulous, and analytical.

Whereas I was a total mess. But damn good when it came to the art.

Still, I’d never found it easy to make it through these endless meetings, and I admit, I may have nodded off a few times.

Without Ronnie to elbow me in the ribs—yet again—I’d probably have ended up lying in a pool of my own drool on the conference table.

I listened to only Mr. Heinrich with absolute attentiveness. I was scared, wondering what he wanted from me after this meeting. Scared...and excited.

When everyone filed out of the room, I found the boss waiting patiently for me, his hands in his pockets as always. Accentuating his bulge.

“Come with me, Miss Sauvignon.”

I followed him to his office, catching his scent. Like an aged wine mixed with some expensive cologne.

Finally we entered his quaintly decorated office, and I took a seat across from him.

Were it not for his name and the occasional saying, you’d never guess that Mr. Heinrich was German.

He had traveled all over the world, a Renaissance man that could have been from anywhere.

He began to go through some paperwork, barely acknowledging my presence, and I tensed up again, wondering what this was about.

Then his icy blue eyes flicked to mine, and he rose from his chair.

“Miss Sauvignon, could you step around the desk for me please?”

I didn’t question it. I stood up and walked to where he nodded, to the window, looking out on downtown Chicago, like I was hypnotized.

I felt him approach from behind as I looked out.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

I shook my head.

“Good. Am I to understand that you take your job as a joke?”

My eyes went wide. I began to stammer, and he cut me off, looking at my reflection in the window.

“Considering your outrageous behavior earlier, I am inclined to think so. Not to mention falling asleep in the middle of our meeting. Am I to believe that you are incapable of behaving in a professional manner? Or should I blame the recruiting department for hiring someone so ill-mannered, so foul-mouthed to run wild in my company?”

Now, I wasn’t turned on. I was outraged.

The temperature in the room went from cool to scorching hot.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Sauvignon? Or is obscenity the only language you understand?”

Before I could think, before I could help myself, I swung around and slapped Mr. Heinrich across the face.

Oh, God.

What have I done?

I’d just slapped my boss.

But to my surprise, Mr. Heinrich didn’t throw me out of the room and tell me to collect my things.

No, instead he smirked. And stepped forward. Spinning me and pressing me up against the cold glass.

I could feel him, hard against the small of my back.

Was this my dream?

Or was this really happening?

He brought his lips to my ear and whispered, “Ich werde dich zähmen, mein kätzchen.

I had no idea what that meant, but then I felt his teeth nip at my ear. I shivered as he gyrated my hips against his immense hard-on.

It twitched. I closed my eyes for a second before he exclaimed, “Look at me, kätzchen!”

And so I did, in the glass in front of me.

Watching as his blue eyes stared into me. Watching as his fingertips trailed down my body. From my hard nipples. To my stomach. To my—

I gasped as he finally touched me, bringing his fingers to my wet core.

He shifted my soaked thong with his skilled fingers and rubbed.

I almost went over the edge immediately.

My back bowed, and my knees gave way slightly, but he caught me with his right hand.

Chuckling lightly, he continued to pressure my core with his finger, thumb rubbing deliberate circles into my clit.

He stopped teasing.

Went deep.

Making me choke, tears filling my eyes, losing it.

Finally, I came with a loud cry.

He withdrew his hand quickly and stepped back from me with a wicked smirk on his face.

I could have died from embarrassment.

I swiftly straightened my skirt and hair, and when I turned to face my boss, he was sucking the tips of his fingers off individually. Middle finger first, then thumb.

“So sweet,” he whispered. I was hot and knew I was bright red.

I couldn’t think straight, much less comprehend what had just happened.

But nothing in the world could have prepared me for what he was going to say next.

Mr. Heinrich lowered his hands, shot me an icy glare, and nodded to the door.

“You’re fired.”

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