Be demanding

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Miss Miller!” Alison's expressive eyes widen in shock and alarm, and I wonder if in her entire life this sweet Preacher's daughter has ever had anyone swear at her like this. “I own this company, and I own everyone in it too. Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?”

“Please, Mr. Patterson, Sir.” I love the way she looks up at me, like a timid mouse cornered by a tomcat about to eat her up. “I'm sorry I misplaced the Thompson file. If you just give me a chance to get dressed Sir, I'll find it. I promise!” I take another step into her room, and I see her eyes darting all around searching for some way out of this situation.

“No. I think at the moment, I'm interested in something a little more satisfying than looking over a supplier's portfolio.”

“You can't, Mr. Patterson. It wouldn't be right.” In a sudden burst of defiance she makes the mistake of threatening me. “I'll report you to HR!” I'm not sure what Alison thought my reaction to her threat might be, but I don't think she was expecting the way I grab her by the ankle and jerk her towards me so she is wiggling on her back. My sexy tenant might be excited by the position that the Harlequin heroine has gotten herself into, but that doesn't mean she's going to just let me take her.

“What are you doing?!” Her hands desperately try to cover herself and she kicks at me as I try to grasp her other ankle. When I do finally grab it (after being kicked once in the shoulder and once more in my ribs) I spread her long legs open like I'm pulling a wishbone and climb onto the bed between them. With her thighs pushed back against her chest, all she can do is twist and squirm, but not really break free.

“I'm giving you something to really complain about, Miss Miller.” I chuckle cruelly, “I'm going to make you take every inch of my meaty cock.”

“I mean it, Mr. Patterson, I'll take this right to Mrs. Jackson.” It's not easy, but I am able to hold both her legs long enough to pull my polo over my head and loosen the snap and zipper of my khakis before she kicks free. “I'll tell them...” her voice rises in both pitch and volume, “I'll make them believe me!” With a grunt, I collapse onto the struggling girl, using my weight to pin her down on her bed so my hands are free to push my pants over my hips.

“Oh, I'm sure Mrs. Jackson will believe you.” I grunt hoarsely into her ear, “It was only five years ago that I had that newlywed hottie bent over my desk.” Alison's moan is accompanied by a renewal of bucking, and inspired by her struggles, I add that to my story. “She put up a fight at first too, just like you.”

“But she was married!” Alison's protest seems to come from her heart. I guess there are some things that this conservative young woman is still not comfortable with, but I am after all playing the role of the bastard billionaire boss, so I just go with it.

“Well yeah, her husband was an ambitious junior executive working for me too,” I tell her and her struggles stop momentarily giving me a chance to finish the sentence, “and after I explained the situation, he and I came to an arrangement.”

“What?” Even in the middle of this attack, Alison seems caught off-guard by this new twist. “What do you mean arrangement?” Really, she is smart enough to work this out on her own, but I spell it out for her anyways.

“He got put on a fast-track, and I got to bang his hot wife whenever I felt like it.” I could almost imagine some arrogant bastard doing something like that, not a Harlequin leading man, but we left that track a while ago. “She got used to it after a while; that's why I promoted her to HR.” As my needy tenant lays there in stunned silence, I lift her ankles high over her head again and wiggle into position.

“No ...” I'm not sure if her objection is to the way the fictional young bride was betrayed by her husband, or if she feels the knob of my cock against her tight sex. By this point I don't really care.

“Mr. P!” Alison breaks out of the role of the Harlequin heroine long enough to urge me on. “Is this really how you're going to claim that virgin secretary?” She doesn't seem to have any problems with this escalation of the already **** nature of the book. “Forcing her open as she pleads and begs for mercy, just like you took that newlywed bride?”