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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / In His Office: A Billionaire Boss Romance by Sara Fields – Extended Preview

In His Office: A Billionaire Boss Romance by Sara Fields – Extended Preview

The sound of the lock turning was jarring, reverberating through me like the first clap of thunder in the middle of a raging hurricane.

It sealed me into my own personally-chosen doom.

I swallowed so loudly that he probably heard it. I wanted this, wanted him, more than I’d allowed myself to admit. The professionalism, the rules, the potential consequences—they all faded into the background, overshadowed by a desire too potent to resist.

The look in his eyes shifted, reflecting a mix of surprise and a deep, smoldering intensity.

I was going to fuck my boss, because that’s what he was, right?

I closed my eyes.

That’s right.

Your boss…

I hadn’t really admitted it to myself until now, but my body was tingling with heat. No matter what I tried to tell myself, there was no way I was escaping this office now without knowing what his cock felt like between my thighs, and a deep, shameful part of me was excited about the very wicked nature of that.

Of what it would feel like.

Of how hard I would come…

“Miss Davis, you’re full of surprises,” he drawled, his voice hoarse with his own desire. His body pressed against mine, the hard line of his cock pressed against my hip, and I sucked in a breath. I’d seen the proof of his arousal, but now that I felt it for the first time, it was the kind of big that made a girl nervous.

It was certainly much larger than any man I’d ever been with before.

Sure, there had been Derek—Mr. No-Long-Distance who had been my ex-fiancé, the aspiring musician who was more in love with his guitar than he ever could be with me. His passion had been admirable, but his inability to commit to anything beyond his next gig was frustrating. Plus, the way he’d broken it off with me had left more than a sour taste in my mouth.

Then there was the grad student Alex, whose idea of a date night was a quiet study session in the library. He was sweet, but our conversations lacked depth and excitement, and then there was the complete lack of chemistry in the bedroom.

Those memories paled in comparison to the intensity radiating from Hunter right now. He exuded a sense of certainty and strength that I hadn’t ever encountered before. It was in the way he held himself, the confidence in his stride, the assuredness in every word he spoke. Even now, with the tumultuous mix of emotions hanging in the air, he seemed unshakably composed.

It was as if the men I’d been with before had simply been boys.

Hunter Blackwater was a man.

“Enough to keep a man like you on your toes,” I quipped, trying to hide the way my voice shook with heat. My nipples scraped against the lace of my bra. The feeling of it was painful, and I drew my lip between my teeth, nibbling on it as I tried to get a hold of myself.

His hand reached for my face, cupping my cheek as his thumb grazed over my cheekbone. His touch was gentle, but I could tell he was holding back.

“Indeed,” he mused, his gaze searching mine as if I held all the answers. Questions whirled through my mind instead.

What was going to happen between us? Should I have left? Was I about to ruin everything with whatever came next?

Would he still be my boss tomorrow if I did this?

His hand moved to the back of my neck, and then his lips descended to meet mine. His kiss made all the others seem soft, and it sent my head reeling.

His mouth moved over mine punishingly hard, and I kissed him back with just as much intensity, only I couldn’t quite match his. His need for me was borderline obsessive, and in seconds, my lips ached. His tongue struck mine, tangling with me in a volley of dominance that demanded my surrender.

“The moment you locked that door, Miss Davis, you became mine,” he growled.

The sound of his voice reverberated through the room, its deep, resonant quality echoing the intensity of the moment. The effect was like a cold glass of water on a hot summer day—shocking, refreshing, and somehow exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

He reached down and grabbed my skirt. He wrenched it up, exposing the expanse of my bare thigh, and I sucked in an unsteady breath.

Holy fucking shit!

He was going to find out what kind of underwear I was wearing.

He was going to think I was some little slut for dressing for him like this. I bit my lip as he tugged up my skirt, and when he exposed my panties, I sucked in a breath of shame.

I closed my eyes and waited at his sharp intake of breath.

“Fuck. I had wondered what you were wearing underneath this beautiful outfit. Did you wear these pretty panties for me, my perfect little slut?”

His words raced through me like a sudden heated shower. I gasped, wanting to fight against him, yet losing control so quickly it felt like the carpet had been swept right out from under my feet.

“I…”

“Such a naughty girl,” he growled. Then, using the flats of his fingers, he slapped my pussy over the seat of my panties. I started, the light sting overwhelming me for a long second.

I blushed hard.

There was no way he wasn’t going to know how wet I was now.

“I didn’t—” I tried, but he cut me off with a savage snarl.

“They’re very pretty, but you’re not going to need them for much longer, my beautiful little slut,” he rasped. He slapped my pussy two more times in quick succession, causing one lightning bolt of desire after the next to shoot straight to my clit.

I gasped, my body heating with wild abandon. Every nerve tingled with electricity, threating to ignite at any given moment. My skin prickled, and I felt a droplet of sweat roll down my spine. With a shiver, I gazed up into his eyes.

They were full of raw appreciation. He wasn’t teasing me. He meant every single word.

“I’m not?” I questioned, my voice trailing off in the midst of the tension crackling between us. His fingers slid across my hip, just trailing above the waistband of my panties. I licked my bruised lips. His gaze followed the movement of my tongue, and I blushed a much brighter red.

“No,” he answered simply.

Then his fingertip curled underneath my panties, and he tore them right off. The fabric pinched at my tender, wet folds, and I cried out, but he yanked a bit harder, and the fabric parted like the Red Sea.

“I liked those,” I breathed, my disbelief written into every syllable of my voice, but he smiled, chuckling softly under his breath.

“I’ll buy you another,” he said, as if it was that simple.

“Those were a gift,” I countered.

“From another man?” he growled, and all of a sudden, the atmosphere in the room darkened, filling with the resounding waves of his anger and jealousy, and I sucked in a nervous breath.

“Yes,” I whispered. It was true. They’d been a Valentine’s Day gift from Alex, only he’d ended up breaking up with me the same day and I’d never worn them for him. In fact, this was the first time I’d worn them at all, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him.

“Then I’m going to burn them,” he snarled.

For a moment, I was exceedingly aware of how my pussy clenched and my nipples zinged with need over his possessiveness. It felt like something out of the caveman days, but I kind of liked it anyway.

That didn’t mean that I would go down without a fight.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I challenged. “Firstly, they’re mine, and secondly, I don’t think you’re the type to destroy a woman’s belongings simply out of jealousy.”

“Jealousy?” he echoed, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t get jealous, Miss Davis. I just don’t like the idea of you wearing something from another man. It’s… distracting.”

“Well, Mr. Blackwater, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t dress for you or any man,” I retorted, my voice steady but laced with a hint of defiance. “My wardrobe choices are mine alone.”

“For now,” he countered, and I lifted my chin almost as if I was directly challenging him.

What did that mean? And why did my body heat at his words? Why did a part of being made to dress in whatever his heart desired make my pussy pulse?

“Fuck you, Mr. Blackwater,” I snarled with just as much ferocity of my own. His gaze darkened and the corners of his mouth turned up with a smirk.

The flats of his fingers spanked my bare pussy, and the ensuing sting was more than enough to steal the words right out of my mouth.

“Patience, Miss Davis. We’ll get to that soon enough.”

I snarled and his ensuing smirk made my pussy pulse as if it had developed its own heartbeat.

“First, my needy little slut, you’re going to get down on your knees.”

I whipped my head around towards him and opened my mouth to protest, but his hand was already on my shoulder, pushing me down. My strength was no match for his, but I tried to fight anyway. Before I knew what was happening though, he’d already forced me to my knees.

“I’m not your needy little slut,” I snapped, and his devious smile begged to differ. He grabbed the hair at the back of my scalp and fisted it, pulling it taut enough for a flash of pain to radiate across the back of my head.

I cried out, but that didn’t stop him from pressing the massive bulge of his cock against my cheek. With a cry, I tried to pull back, but he held me in place whether I wanted it or not.

“Today, you’re going to be,” he replied, the huskiness in his voice revealing his own desire in spades. I nipped at his thigh, only for him to drag me by the hair to his desk. He spun me around so that the back of my head pressed against the front of the desk and then stopped in front of me, the hard line of his cock level with my heated gaze.

“I’m going to use that pretty mouth, my little slut. I’m going to fuck it. I’m not going to be gentle. You’re going to take it like a good girl unless you want me to take off my belt,” he growled.

His belt?

My nipples hardened into tight little rocks and a jolt of arousal pierced right to my clit. I opened my mouth to say some smart retort, but the words died on my tongue as he unbuckled the very same belt that he’d just threatened me with. Unhurriedly, he slowly unbuttoned his slacks and pulled down his zipper before he freed his cock.

Oh my fucking god. He is huge.

His cock put every other man I’d ever been with to shame. It was red and angry and really fucking erect. As my eyes fell on the monstrosity of it, it jerked right in front of me. The smooth velvety looking surface was covered with thick, throbbing veins.

This was the kind of cock that would leave a pussy sore.

Was going to leave my pussy sore…

My inner walls tightened with anxious arousal at the thought of taking something so big inside of me. My thighs pressed together as my fear rose, almost as if I’d forgotten about his threat to fuck my face.

But I didn’t forget that. Not when his cock was staring me right in the face.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded.

“No,” I replied.

His hand cupped my cheek gently for a moment. As he traced his thumb over my cheekbone, I shivered.

Then he cuffed my face. Hard.

Stinging pain erupted across my cheek and my pussy practically convulsed. He held his hand there as the ache blossomed, deliciously painful, a bit debasing, a little degrading, and utterly delectable.

I shouldn’t like it.

I shouldn’t want him to do it again.

“I told you to open your mouth, my beautiful little slut,” he growled. His hand tapped the side of my face threateningly, and I lifted my chin in defiance, meeting his gaze as he stared down at me.

“I said no—” I tried, but then he cuffed the right side of my face twice more in quick succession. My pussy clenched tight as I gasped, my fearful arousal roiling inside me like a churning ocean.

With my cheek burning, I finally opened my mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, and I loathed how my heart leapt at his words. Why would that make my body blaze with heat? Why did I hold onto the edge of his every word like it was a lifeline and like I didn’t want to let go?

It was infuriating, but there wasn’t any time to think about it. His hand gripped my hair, and he slid his cock in between my lips. I had to open my mouth even wider to accommodate him, stretching my cheeks enough to ache, and I hadn’t even started sucking his cock yet.

“Fuck, such a warm little mouth,” he murmured. The head of his cock slid against my tongue, and the sharp, sweet, tangy taste of him hit me like a freight train. I closed my lips around his shaft, trying to slow his descent into my mouth, but he just kept pushing until the tip nudged against the back of my throat.

I gagged and he pulled back, only slightly, and I swallowed, trying to gather myself, only for him to push back inside. Almost immediately, I choked again, but this time he didn’t let up.

“Breathe through your nose, little slut,” he directed, and I tried to do as he instructed, but it wasn’t easy when you had a monster of a cock in your mouth. He pushed forward and just held his cock there, letting me struggle until I finally got a hold of myself.

There was no way to push back, not with the desk behind my head. The only way to go was forward and that meant swallowing more of his cock.

I cursed myself for not figuring out what he was doing sooner. I tried to turn to the side, but he grabbed the hair at the top of my scalp and twisted my head back into place.

Then he pulled back, just enough for me to draw in a deep breath.

Maybe he’d become tired of this. Maybe he’d realized this was wrong, but it soon occurred to me that it was none of those things.

He was simply preparing himself to fuck my mouth.

His pelvis thrust forward, and his cock plunged deep into my mouth, nudging against the back of my throat, and then he drove back in again.

My struggles before had been a warmup.

I’d never had my mouth fucked before.

There was nothing for me to do other than kneel there and open my throat as best as I could. I choked on his cock again and again, but he kept plunging himself in between my lips. My cheeks were sore long before this, and they only grew more so. Every thrust pounded down the back of my throat, brutal and ruthlessly hard, and I had no choice but to take it.

I tried to push against his thighs, but it was as if I was trying to punch through a brick wall. Utterly useless.

He fucked my mouth until my eyes watered and then he fucked it some more, harder and harder until there were tears streaming down my cheeks. Drool dripped down my chin, and I felt like nothing more than a whore in that moment.

“You’re a fucking vision, my pretty little slut,” he purred, and again, his praise made my insides swoon with heat.

At his words, I tried to open my lips wider. I swirled my tongue around his shaft as he slowly fucked my mouth, and then he began to pick up the pace again. The fucking was rough, but I took it, and the longer it went on, the more I feared it would never end.

My pussy was soaking wet. I could feel my arousal dripping down my inner thighs beneath my skirt, and I knew that once I stood up, there was going to be an unmistakable wet spot left behind, and he was going to see it.

I didn’t understand why his brutal treatment was turning me on. It shouldn’t. I should hate it. I should scream at him for crossing the line, but I didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, I just kept sucking his cock because there was a very deep, wicked part of me that liked how rough he was being with me.

“That’s it, slut, give me that wet little mouth,” he demanded, and I did.

He fucked my mouth good and hard, and just when his thighs started to tremble beneath my fingers, he pulled back and growled with a low rumble.

I took the moment to sniffle back my tears, but they kept falling.

“Do you want my come down your throat or do you need me to bend you over my desk, my beautiful little whore?”

I should be angry.

I should tell him off.

I should fucking bite his cock off for treating me like this, but everything in me was telling me that I wanted this, that I needed it, so I did none of those things.

Instead, I did the exact opposite.

“Bend me over your desk, sir,” I breathed, and for a long moment, silence reigned between us. Then, he pulled all the way out of my mouth and a string of spittle stretched between my mouth and the tip of his cock. With a gentle sort of roughness, he reached down and lifted me straight off the floor and twisted me around.

He bent me over the desk.

As I struggled to catch my breath, he grabbed the hem of my skirt and wrenched it up to the middle of my back. I heard the sound of tearing fabric, and I cried out, knowing that Zara was going to be pissed that I’d ripped her skirt, but maybe not when I told her what happened and how Mr. Fifty-Fucking-Shades had ripped it to pieces to bare me for a fucking after using my throat to his heart’s desire.

Just when I thought he’d finished, the fabric tore some more, and then he exposed my back. I pushed off the desk, but I only made it an inch or two off the surface before he roughly pushed me back down and pinned me in place with his hand on my lower back.

“Fuck, this is such a beautiful ass,” he said darkly, and then he grabbed my upper arm and yanked me back up before he tore the rest of my skirt right off and tossed it aside, leaving my lower half entirely bare.

My shame billowed up from the tips of my toes and I reached down with my hands, hoping to cover my pussy, but he slapped them aside.

“Don’t ever hide that gorgeous little cunt from me,” he snarled, and my inner walls spasmed with need.

He let go of my arm, and while I was still off balance, he grabbed the collar of my blouse and ripped it right down the front, desperate to expose every last bit of me. With my chest heaving, the buttons popped off and flew all over the place.

With ease, he twisted me so that he’d pinned both of arms behind my back with only one of his. I squeaked in surprise when the soft velvety skin of his hard cock brushed against my hands. He was still so hard.

For you, you filthy little slut.

He reached around with his one free arm and slid his finger beneath the cups of my bra. I struggled, but that only served to rub my hands against his cock even more. I tried to pull my arms away, but he held them firmly in place with the kind of ease that was humbling and shameful all at the same time.

He pulled my breasts free from the cups of my bra one by one. I felt like they were on salacious display, held up by my bra cups. I didn’t know why he hadn’t taken it off, or even ripped it off.

I hated to think about how I was going to look when I tried to walk out of here.

I didn’t even know how that was going to be possible at this point.

All of a sudden, he squeezed my left breast before he grasped my nipple and twisted it hard. I cried out as a torrent of agony radiated across my breast, trying to take it while struggling at the same time. My back arched and I tried to wrench myself away, which only succeeded in him pulling on my erect bud even harder. When he finally released it, a secondary wave of pain followed, and I yelped out loud at the intensity of it.

Then the flats of his fingers settled directly over the tip. Without warning, he spanked my tit, and I whimpered, delicious, aroused panic setting in before I could stop it. He spanked my nipple three times in quick succession, and my eyes watered, only for him to turn to the other side and pinch it just as hard, if not harder.

I shrieked, but that didn’t stop him.

With my luck, his office was probably soundproof. No one was going to come and save me. This was his building, his company. Not only was he everyone else’s boss, but he was mine too.

He spanked my tits with several quick strikes, moving between one and then the other now and painting both of them bright pink. I struggled to take it, but he wasn’t giving me a choice.

What was worse was the sheer amount of arousal dripping down my leg. I was so turned on that I could hardly stand it. Blazing heat spiraled through my veins, and before I knew what was happening, I was arching my back and seeking out every firm smack of his fingers.

Every stinging spank sent a jolt of need straight to my clit.

“I fucking love how your tits look like this,” he murmured, and my legs instantly felt weak.

“Please, sir,” I begged.

“I want these tits bright red and sore before I bend you over my desk and give you what you truly need, my little whore,” he continued, and I gasped.

His words were filthy, but they were so undeniably hot.

I should hate them, but I couldn’t.

Not when he said them like that…

He renewed the spanking, and with every slap, my breasts turned pinker, my nipples harder, until I glanced down to see that my pale white skin was a deep rosy red. Stinging pain radiated across my breasts, and I drew in a shaky breath.

As the ache simmered across my flesh, rampant desire coursed through my veins. I shivered with heat.

Every inch of my skin seemed to blaze with a fire that had been ignited by his touch, his voice, his sheer proximity. Each breath I drew scorched my lungs.

The desire building within me was becoming more intense, more demanding. It was a sensation I had never experienced with such ferocity ever in my life. My thoughts were consumed by him—the depth in his eyes, the strength in his hands, the commanding presence he exuded. It was overwhelming, this longing that seemed to grow with each passing second.

I tried to focus, to regain some semblance of control over the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. But it was futile. The more I tried to suppress the desire, the stronger it became.

And then I stopped trying.

I just gave in.

“Spread your legs, my little slut,” he demanded, and my body moved without thought. With my chest heaving and my breasts still sore, I didn’t know what came next, but I wanted to find out. His sheer dominance was overwhelming, demanding my every surrender, and I couldn’t help but give it.

I wanted this, and I wanted it badly.

“What are you?” he coaxed, and my tongue drew forward, licking my lips. I shivered, my need causing a quiver to race down my spine. I cleared my throat and lifted my chin, my clit thrumming with desire.

“Your little slut,” I whispered, the words feeling filthy as each syllable fell off my tongue.

“That’s right,” he growled. His arm tightened around mine, and his free arm trailed down the length of my exposed belly all the way to the top of my slit. I shivered, but then his fingers slid in between my folds and instantly settled on top of my clit.

“Now, you’re going to come for me like one, with your well-spanked tits on display and this wet little cunt clenching around my fingers,” he dictated, and a piercing jolt of desire raced right to my clit.

I wondered if he could feel it throbbing beneath his fingers.

Immediately, my face reddened at the thought. Raw shame billowed up from my core, yet at the same time, my pussy clenched hard.

His fingertips rolled over my clit, and I trembled, arching my back and rolling my hips, almost grinding myself against him.

I was used to being in control and he’d taken it. He’d taken every bit of it, and I was soaring because of it.

With that, he rubbed a little harder and then one of his fingers slid right into my entrance as I sailed over the brink far faster than I could have ever imagined.

I didn’t even realize I was on the edge until I was flying right over it. My entire body went rigid as delicious waves of pleasure washed over me. His cock throbbed, rigid against my hand as he held me tight, forcing me to take my pleasure whether I liked it or not.

And I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

Before I could stop myself, a moan escaped my lips. Then it quickly turned into a scream as he forced my climax even higher. With my head up in the clouds, a wave of pleasure dragged me out just like the tide, and then the whole world turned stark white.

Sheer blinding bliss pumped through me. My inner walls clutched at his fingers as he slid a second one inside me, all while he kept his thumb rubbing over my clit.

My head spiraled into nothing but pleasure as I experienced what was without a doubt the most intense orgasm of my entire life.

When it was finally over, I slumped forward, my legs weak. Gently, he directed me to bend over the desk, and I slumped forward in relief. Carefully, he released my arms, and I drew them forward, pressing the flats of my palms against his desk.

“Fuck, Morgan. You’re a fucking vision. Do you know how beautiful you are? Every inch of you is so perfect. Goddamn,” he whispered, and my heart swelled in my chest before I could think to stop it.

His cock nudged at my entrance, just brushing against my pussy, and making me jump at the blazing heat of it. Just that simple touch seared my flesh and several things occurred to me at once.

One, I was about to get fucked.

Two, his cock was going to hurt.

And three, I was about to get fucked by my boss.

My entire body turned molten. Unbidden, my hips rose, almost like I was seeking him out, and then he pressed forward, just a tiny bit, and I gasped out loud.

Holy fuck. He was big.

I didn’t know if I could take it, but I wanted to.

“Is this what you need, my pretty little slut? Do you need my cock?” he purred, and my desire simmered to life once again.

I’d never come more than once at a time before, but I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be a problem with him.

In all likelihood, he was going to make me come as many times as he wanted, and there was nothing for me to do other than take it.

“Yes, sir,” I wailed.

“Then beg me for it.”

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