Blessed

Epilogue - Clarise

Clarise Donovan - CEO.

That’s what the plaque outside my office reads. Yeah, that’s right, six months have gone by, and I’m no longer the interim CEO of this company. Nope, I’m the boss, and I call the shots without being second guessed.

"I still have to redecorate," I tell Connor as I shut the door, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, savoring my triumph. After chasing this goal for so long, I’ve finally achieved it. Not that it was easy, mind you; these six months as interim CEO have been some of the most grueling times of my life. More than anything, it was a learning period… And I had to learn fast. Of course, Connor helped me every step of the way, and that made everything so much easier.

"What’s wrong with your father’s decoration of the place?" he laughs, waving his hand at the stern bookcases lining every single wall. Yeah, my father didn’t care much about appearances; he only cared about doing a good job.

"Nothing, really. It just needs a more feminine touch," I tell him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him into me. "Now, I remember you wanting something… What was it?" I ask him, pretending that I’m trying to remember something. "Ah, you wanted to christen this office, didn’t you?"

"That’s right, I did," he chuckles, his hands running down the side of my body. "And it’s high time we do that."

"Seconded," I purr, feeling my heart pump boiling blood straight to between my thighs.

"But you’ll have to obey," Connor continues to say with a grin, a dangerous wickedness flashing behind his eyes.

"Obey?"

"Yes, you’ll obey… and if you do that, you’ll have what you want," he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

"That sounds… fair," I reply, my heart racing faster and faster.

"It is fair. Now … take off your dress."

I take one step back and grin at him, taking my hands up to my shoulders. Obediently I pull down the straps, letting the dress slide down my body. I am wearing only my thong and a black bra in front of him, and now my pussy is so wet that I feel the fabric of my drenched thong sticking to my skin.

"Turn around."

Dutifully, I turn around, my back to him. I feel his fingers on me and wince. His touch is cold but, at the same time, seems to spread a dense heat on my skin. His fingers open the clasp of my bra, releasing it; he lets it fall to the ground, the humid air of the room caressing my erect nipples.

"Take off the rest."

Obedient, and without turning around, I take my fingers down to my waist and pull my thong down, letting it fall down my legs. I'm naked, my back turned to him, but he doesn't say or do anything for several seconds. And I don’t dare say anything. His strong presence is filling the whole room, and I don’t break that atmosphere.

"Turn around."

I turn to him, his eyes meeting mine once more. Finally, he looks at my body, his gaze sweeping every inch of me patiently. I feel the pressure of his gaze slipping from my eyes to my lips, and then to my breasts. His gaze goes lower, down my abdomen, my hips... Between my legs... A wild heat sprouts there, a desire that almost makes my body ache. I'm wet. Wet as only he can make me. I crave his touch; I want to feel it on my lips, I want to feel it on my neck. I want him between my legs, sating that urge.

A smile of approval appears on his lips. He extends his arms to the side and throws his coat to the floor.

"The shirt."

I immediately know what to do. I take my fingers to his neck, touching the collar of his shirt. Loosening his tie, I pull it over his head and then I undo the first button on his shirt slowly; then I just keep going. The skin of his chest is tanned, his ripped muscles calling to me as if they were made of marble. And they really look like marble - his perfectly delineated muscles, the lines of his hard and strong chest... It’s as if his whole body has been brought into existence by the skillful chisel of a sculptor.

I unbutton the last button of his shirt and pull it down, revealing his chest. My fingers touch his skin and I shudder, longing to feel all of him. But I know I can’t do it, not yet.

His hands touch my waist, his long fingers pressed against my skin, and he pulls me closer, our bodies a few inches away. He leans into me, his lips pulling back to reveal two rows of perfect white teeth, and kisses me.

I kiss him back, my hand on his chest. He raises his arm and, grabbing me by the hair, pulls my head back and places his lips on my neck. I shudder, anxious, and feel the cold touch of his teeth brushing against me. He sinks his teeth into my flesh, and then the cold touch of pain fades; it's as if honey is entering my bloodstream, numbing my senses, the beating of my heart the only thing I can hear.

He kisses me again and I enjoy my own taste in my mouth. He pushes me back against the desk and I gasp as I feel my ass pressed against the edge of it.

"I’ve been dreaming of this for too long," he finally says, a grin taking over his lips. Reaching with one arm toward the desk, he swipes everything there to the ground; both the phone and the lamp tumble down to the floor, a few folders and documents follow after them.

Pulling me up, he lies me down on top of the desk and climbs on top of me, hunched like a wild animal preparing to devour his prey. His chest touchs mine, my breasts brushing against his soft cool skin, and I lace his waist with my legs, my mind screaming at him to make me his, to subdue and dominate me.

He kisses me again, his waist on mine. My trembling fingers slide down his chest to his pants and, as if moved by an awareness that is not mine, I grab his belt and unbuckle it. My hand touches something hard and by now I'm almost salivating, knowing that he’s hard because of me. Unable to control myself, I wrap my fingers around his cock, over his pants, and press down.