Page 11 of Leverage & Obedience

Heather is talking. “Okay, so the first revision is on page four, paragraph two—“

The words don’t make sentences in my head, because Bren’s hand settles on my knee.

”—they want to add indemnity language we’ll need to push back on. I’ll email the redline in ten minutes—”

His palm climbs my inner thigh slowly, dragging my skirt with it. My breath hitches, and I cough to cover it.

“Sorry, swallowed wrong. Keep going.”

She keeps going. He keeps going. His hands push my knees apart, and his warm exhale lands on my inner thigh—the only sound he makes. He traces the wet patch on my panties before hooking one finger into the elastic and pulling them aside.

I bite my lip and pray I can stay silent. This is so messed up, and I don’t care.

He drags his fingers through my slick folds, and I brace my free hand against the desk and stay silent. Dana is fifteen feet away. What’s happening under my desk would get me fired in eleven seconds, which only makes it hotter.

He circles my clit with the perfect pressure that turns my legs to liquid.

“Heather, hold on one second, I’m going to put you on a brief mute.”

I press mute. My eyes are on my monitor, and I let him touch me.

He pushes two fingers inside me and finger fucks me, curling them as pleasure ripples through my body. My inner walls clamp around him, and I almost whimper, but I’m able to hold it in.

His fingers withdraw, and he rubs my clit again until my thighs are shaking. When he starts alternating, plunging his fingers inside me, and then removing them to circle my clit, I have to bite my lip to stop my moans.

I risk glancing down at him, and the intensity in his eyes mesmerizes me for a moment. And then I notice the slight smirk. He has no intention of letting me come.

Fuck.

I unmute Heather. “Sorry, the redline—yes, send it over, I’ll have it on his desk by 5:15.”

“Perfect, you’re a lifesaver. Same time tomorrow for the next round?”

“Sounds good. Talk to you then.”

I hang up. He withdraws his hand and pulls my panties back into place. The cotton is soaked, and the bastard gives it a little rub without enough pressure to do anything.

He smooths my skirt down my thighs and pats my knee lightly and whispers, “Is it okay for me to stand?”

Oh.

A quick glance confirms it is, and I nod. He straightens up, smiles at me, and walks down the hallway. His pace is exactly the same as it was on the way over.

I sit at my desk, unable to move for a full minute.

My clit pulses as my thighs tremble. The usual running commentary in my head is completely silent. I think he broke my brain.

The 5:15 deadline pulls me back. I print Heather’s redline and slip the markup into Bren’s inbox tray. It takes me five minutes because my hands are shaking. I get it done at 5:13.

Once my pulse has returned to baseline, I brave going past Dana. I smile at her like I have absolutely nothing happening in my panties.

In the bathroom, cold water on my wrists and neck does nothing. The face in the mirror looks like an HR liability.

What’s left of the workday refuses to pass. I get through the last hour very aware of how wet I still am. He thoroughly wound me up and abandoned me.

He stays in his office, but his door is open.

By 6, the office is quiet. I slide the Haverford binder into Bren’s inbox tray, gather my things, and walk past his office without saying goodbye. He doesn’t call out to me.