Yes, Mr. Collins Page 3

  “Yes, Sir.” Natasha lifted her leg and scrambled to obey him. Perched on the edge, she managed to scoot forward bit by bit without knocking anything off. She rested her cheek against the polished wood and suddenly worried about leaving a smudge behind.

  Mr. Collins made a deep sound of appreciation. His hand glided back and forth across Natasha’s backside and thighs. “Tonight you and I will take it easy. I just want to play with my little bunny. I want to find out what makes her squeak before I see what makes her hop up and down.”

  Please, please, please.

  Natasha had never wanted anyone more. Delirious with desire, she needed Mr. Collins to amuse himself with her which ever way he wanted. She wanted him to devour her, make it so she couldn’t run, to leave her as a feral keening mess on his desk.

  “Do you want to play with me, Natasha?”

  “Oh, yes, Sir! Please, I want that so much.”

  Shame flirted with her, shriveling Natasha’s ardor the slightest bit. That pleading, babbling woman couldn’t possibly be her, could it?

  He’s already reduced me to this and he hasn’t even really touched me yet. What will happen when he does? Will I survive it or will I just disappear into him completely?

  Mr. Collins kissed her hip. Natasha spread her legs wide, greedy for more. She cried out from the sharp slaps he delivered quickly on each thigh.

  “I decide your pleasure, pet. Not you.”

  Rage rushed up beneath the surface of her docility. Natasha contained it, forcing the unclean emotion deep down; uncertain of its origins but sure it was due to his unnatural punishment.

  “Good girl,” Mr. Collins whispered. “You suppressed that remarkably well.”

  She blushed, unsure if he was truly pleased or mocking her obvious lack of restraint.

  “After all, what fun is there to be had when prey turns belly up in the midst of the chase?”

  “Pet.” Natasha’s sharp distinction drew an indulgent chuckle from Mr. Collins.

  “Of course you’re my pet but don’t forget—you’re also my prey.” He smoothed his hand over her back. “I know I said I wanted to play with you, Natasha, but you’re making it so very easy for me to want to eat you instead.”

  “What do you mean—oh!” She shuddered, helpless beneath the feel of his tongue laving her through the satin underwear. Natasha moaned happily when Mr. Collins pulled the thin fabric sliver to one side before giving her several long licks.

  “Hmm, tasty.”

  Natasha squirmed, loving how he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. His tongue expertly probed Natasha’s delicate folds, quickly finding what pleased her and what intoxicated her. Mr. Collins then set about keeping Natasha on the drugged side of intoxication for many long thigh-clenching minutes.

  “Do you want to come, Natasha?” He replaced his mouth with two talented fingers, slickly sliding over her before sinking deep inside.

  She whimpered in response and wiggled her hips.

  “Answer me, pet.”

  Natasha babbled an affirmative.

  Mr. Collins twisted his wrist. “I don’t think you’re ready. Not nearly enough begging for my satisfaction.” He ignored her cries of denial and walked to his chair. Sitting down, he languidly waved his hand in front of Natasha’s face. “Lick.”

  No one had ever asked her to do something so vulgar and raw. Natasha loved it. Keeping her gaze locked onto his, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue across the damp digits before drawing each one into her mouth.

  “You taste divine, Natasha. Do you agree?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She traced each finger with the tip of her tongue, paying special attention to each manicured nail.

  “Good girl.” Mr. Collins shifted forward and pulled her head up higher with a tightly clenched fist. Crushing her mouth with his, he slipped his damp hand inside her corset top. Mr. Collins cupped her breast gently before finding a hard nipple. Rolling and pinching it, he discovered Natasha’s sensitivity with unerring accuracy.

  Between the brutal kiss and his clever fingers, Natasha lost all rational thought. She became a creature of his making, someone whose sole purpose was to exist at his pleasure. Her knees scurried forward until she fell into his lap. She fought against the tie binding her, wanting to touch Mr. Collins with the same intensity he was touching her.

  Mr. Collins’ mouth ripped away. “Bad pet!” He pushed Natasha’s face against his shoulder and clamped one hand to the back of her neck. Mr. Collins then pulled and shoved her legs on either side of him, effectively trapping them beneath the armrests.

  “I didn’t order you off the desk, did I?” His elegant, beautiful hand proved it could be a violent, unrestrained brute. It smacked her ass repeatedly, doing very little to warm up the skin.

  “No, Sir!” Natasha cried out against his dress shirt. She was staining the pristine fabric it with her lipstick, and tried to reposition her head, only to freeze when he barked, “Stay still!”

  “But your shirt, Mr. Collins. . .”

  “I must not be punishing you hard enough if your focus is on an easily replaceable item of clothing.” He redoubled his efforts.

  Natasha howled. Her backside was on fire. She begged and pleaded for him to stop, that she was sorry, and that she would be very, very good if he would just please, please stop.

  Mr. Collins ignored her.

  Natasha, lost beyond reason, bucked hard. She had to escape. The agony was going to kill her. She screeched in panic when she realized her legs were locked up tight. Natasha wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I told my pet she would try to run away because she got scared.” Mr. Collins gloated, lips pressed against her crown. “It’s a good thing I know my pet so well.” His hand cracked down harder.

  When she could no longer speak coherently Mr. Collins pushed the chair back and set Natasha on unsteady feet. “Take off your shoes.” He patiently waited for her to slip them off while she bawled and struggled to keep her balance.

  “Natasha, look at me.”

  She dug her chin deep into her shoulder, trying to hide her humiliation and hurt.

  “If I have to repeat myself, I’ll do it again twice as long.”

  Natasha’s head whipped up. Tears made a charcoal mess of her makeup, she had a runny nose, and the lipstick created crimson smudges across her cheeks. “Please don’t make me do this, Sir. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  His face softened. Eyes alight with tenderness he murmured, “Don’t be ashamed, Natasha. You suffered it beautifully. You have never been as lovely to me as you are now.”

  She sucked in jagged gulps of air. His words soothed but she still wished to hide.

  I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I’m sad, angry, confused. . .

  Mr. Collins tugged on her hip and pulled her back onto his lap. “You’ve been naughty and should be fully punished, pet.” He kissed her mouth gently. “However, I can’t stand to see you cry like this. I will spoil my pet dreadfully at this rate.”

  “What did I do so wrong?” Natasha warbled between shuddering breaths. “I just wanted to be with you, Sir.”

  “I know, pet. I know.” Mr. Collins combed his fingers through her disheveled locks. “I command. You obey. You do not take control of our interactions. You disobeyed a direct command from me, didn’t you?”

  “But—”

  “Answer the question with an affirmative or a negative.”

  Two fat tears broke free to roll down her cheeks. “Yes.”

  I thought we were playing a game. I didn’t think it was this real. My assumption led to this. I was sloppy. Plain and simple.

  Self-disgust stopped her crying cold. “I’m sorry, Mr. Collins.”

  “Natasha, please stop. This isn’t a case where your mistake cost us millions in interest.” He wiped away her tears with the pads of this thumbs. “You broke a rule and were punished. This does not mean you’re inept at pleasing me.”

  Natasha looked at him in surprise. “How did you
know what I was thinking?”

  Mr. Collins kissed her softly. “Because I know my pet. All the mistakes in the world are her fault if I leave her inside her mind for too long. Not to worry because pain has a way of wiping it all clean, doesn’t it?”

  She shook her head and confessed, “Sir, I can’t take another spanking ever again.”

  “You can and you undoubtedly will.”

  Natasha looked down and whispered, “No, Sir.”

  “Eyes up, pet.” Mr. Collins brushed the back of his hand against her jaw line. “Would you have interrupted one of my meetings with investors just to say you were hungry and wanted to go to lunch?”

  “Of course not.” She sniffled several times.

  “Even if you were starving and your stomach was growling?”

  “No.”

  “What if you had to go?”

  “Go?”

  “You know—go.”

  “Oh.” Natasha managed a smile. “I would try to hold it.”

  “Even if it made you squirm in your chair? Even if you thought you would burst?”

  “Yes.”

  Mr. Collins cupped her cheek with a too-warm hand. “This is no different except you’re doing it solely for the purpose of pleasing me who in turn will please you.”

  Natasha leaned into his palm, despite suffering the reason why it was too-warm. “But it hurts so much, Sir.”

  “It’s meant to hurt, pet. If it didn’t hurt what would be the point?”

  “Do you want to hurt me?”

  Mr. Collins bared his teeth in a beautiful, razor-sharp grin. It bound her to him as tightly as his tie. “Of course I do, Natasha. Just as you want to be hurt by me.”

  Her insides roiled. “You’re scaring me, Sir.”

  “I know, pet. This is all so new to you. I daresay you’d be vomiting in the toilet if I don’t calm you down. What? You didn’t think I knew about it those first few days?”

  Natasha laughed, wondering what else he had discovered about her. She sobered as she divulged one of her deepest concerns. “This isn’t normal.”

  “Of course it isn’t. Whatever gave you the impression either of us was normal?”

  Mr. Collins’ matter-of-fact way of dealing with it gave Natasha a boost of courage. “I guess you’re right.”

  Mr. Collins rubbed away the remnants of her lipstick, cutting Natasha’s levity short. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat and repeated it. “Yes, I do, Mr. Collins.”

  “Then know I treasure you, Natasha. I won’t do anything you can’t truly handle. You have my word.”

  If there were ever a time to back out now would be it.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good because I’ve craved you for so long, pet,” Mr. Collins admitted between long, drugging kisses. “Too long. Now to finally have you—it drives me mad. I want to make you cry, scream, and beg for me. I’m a right bastard when it comes to you, aren’t I?”

  “No, Sir. I want you, Sir. Can you please, please untie me, Sir?”

  “No.” He nuzzled her ear before biting down. “You haven’t earned the right to touch me yet, pet, especially after tonight’s bad behavior.” Mr. Collins unbuttoned his pants. “But because overall you’ve been such a good girl you have earned the right to this.”

  His cock sprang out between them; large and thick enough to make her wonder if she’d be able to take all of him.

  Natasha automatically leaned down, mouth watering to taste him, before she popped back up.

  Did I earn another punishment? Dear God, I hope not. My ass couldn’t take it. I’m probably not going to be able to sit down for days as it is.

  “Such a fast learner. Very good, pet. Do you want my cock?”

  “Yes, Sir!” she answered, in love with his praise and immensely grateful to have not deserved another brutal spanking.

  “Tell me what you want to do with it. Explicit details if you please.”

  Natasha made sure to look him in the eye despite her natural burst of embarrassment. “I want to suck on it. I want to feel you in my mouth and see how far down my throat you go. I want to make you moan.”

  Mr. Collins’ cheeks hollowed. Lust made his lids drop low over his eyes. “Then by all means have at it.”

  Natasha slid off his lap and carefully lowered herself to her knees. She bent her head over him and mimicked his early treatment of her by giving Mr. Collins’ a nice, long lick. She smiled at his groan. Delicately, Natasha lashed his hard shaft with her tongue.

  “Tease.”

  It sounded more like a curse than an accusation.

  Husky laughter spilled from her throat. Natasha leaned far over him, trying to suck the broad head but finding it awkward and difficult to do without the use of her hands. Her frustrated gaze shot up only to connect with his amused stare.

  “Having trouble there, pet? Would you like some help?” Mr. Collins gripped the base of his cock and angled it towards her. “There now. Swallow me like a good girl, Natasha.”

  Her thighs clenched, greedily trying to make the heat between them hotter. Keeping her eyes locked on his, Natasha parted her lips and took him inside. Mr. Collins filled her up, stretching her until Natasha’s mouth made a perfect “O.”

  Mr. Collins shifted in his chair. His fist slid up, bumping Natasha’s chin, before sliding back down.

  She was in bliss.

  He sighed her name.

  She worshipped him.

  He cupped her chin.

  She swallowed more of him.

  Mr. Collins thrust his hips, coaxing Natasha to relax her throat even as she struggled not to gag.

  He makes me so fucking hot for him!

  Natasha finally pulled away and dropped an open-mouthed kiss to the thick base. Finding her way up to her feet, she swayed and waited for his instruction.

  “Sit down on the desk, pet, and open up your legs as wide as you can.”

  Natasha stepped backwards until her thighs hit the smooth edge. She arranged herself as ordered even though her backside stung.

  “So pretty. I love the way you look right now—helpless, wanting.” He approached Natasha and stood between her legs. “Beg me, pet. Beg me to make it better.”

  So she did.

  “Sir, oh please, please, please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please do it.”

  “Do what?” Mr. Collins ripped her panties with one sharp, painful tug.

  Natasha arched forward in shock. She pressed kisses to his neck. “Please make love to me.”

  “Make love to you?” He ran his hands along her thighs up to her shoulders. “That’s not for us, pet.”

  “What?” Her eyes filled with tears and shame shred her to ribbons. Natasha averted her gaze, suddenly loathing Mr. Collins with the same intensity she felt at the beginning of their working relationship.

  “What, Sir?” he stressed, black eyes gone cold.

  Screw you! Let me up and let me pretend none of this ever happened!

  Rebellious fires could only incinerate if one fully believed in their power. Natasha didn’t and so couldn’t hold onto her rage. Sorrow dampened the edges of her fury until she wilted beneath the weight of his censure.

  “Sir.”

  He gentled. “Don’t misunderstand me, Natasha. We won’t make love because this isn’t the washed-out version of intimacy that passes for lovemaking.”

  “Go on, Sir.” Natasha wondered if he’d find her short command impertinent. She told herself she didn’t care.

  Mr. Collins snaked his forearms beneath each thigh and pulled Natasha closer. He waited for the vulnerability of her position to hit her. When she squirmed uncomfortably he said, “I’m not going to follow the script and lay you down on a bed of rose petals. I’m not going to be the predictable lover who kisses you softly, treating you like glass when we both know you’re made of sterner stuff.”

  “I think it’s just an excuse to not have to treat me kindly, Mr. Collins
.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” He angled his hips so that his cock forced its way inside. “Treating you kindly all the time would be boring.”

  Natasha’s breath exploded as he stretched her. “For you?”

  “No, pet. For you.” Mr. Collins impaled her with one hip thrust. Natasha cried out loudly. He kissed her mouth, chin, and temple, whispering words of comfort until she relaxed through the sharp discomfort.

  “God, you’re going to kill me, Sir!” Natasha panted. She would’ve pushed him off if he hadn’t tied up her hands. Perhaps her visual love affair with his male anatomy was a complete mistake.

  “Not in a million years, pet.” Mr. Collins delicately tugged on her full lip with his teeth. “Admit it—the pain is already making you someone else. Someone better.”

  Natasha’s body relaxed by slow degrees. “If tearing me in half is going to make two of me then yes.”

  Mr. Collins eased back before sliding forward. “Oh, stop flattering me, pet. I’m supposed to spoil you—not the other way around.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment, Sir.” Natasha ruined her stern admonishment by following with a throaty sigh.

  “I say it is.”

  Mr. Collins proceeded to show Natasha exactly why.

  Between his kisses, dirty words, and deliberate rhythm, Natasha danced on the serrated edge of forbidden pleasure. Fear, her constant companion, ebbed and flowed with the strength of his thrusts. He could please her. He could hurt her. He could do whatever he wanted and she was powerless to stop him. Mr. Collins had complete power over Natasha in the most primal way a man could exert it over a woman.

  And she loved it.

  When he dropped to his knees and spread her wide with his hands, Natasha begged him in sharp whispers to please, please make her come. He looked at her, studying her most intimate, private area with an intensity she’d seen him employ on paperwork. Natasha wondered if she was a problem to solve or a challenge to defeat. She hissed at the thought, hating the feeling of being no more significant than a problem in China. As if he knew Natasha’s fear and her place in the hierarchy of his mind, Mr. Collins smirked before finally obliging.

  The sight of seeing such a powerful man on his knees, face wet with her juices, hurled Natasha right over the edge. She came hard, moaning the only real name she had for him.