Brock's Leading Lady (The Nanny Tales 1)

“I’m sorry. But I do not believe you are allowed to ask me that. Are you?” I cannot tell if she is being genuinely perplexed, or if she is being a smart ass. Somehow, I get the impression that she doesn’t know how to be a smart ass. She seems like an old soul. Kind, quiet, meek, and dare I say a bit susceptible to commands. Even thinking it is making my cock weep in my pants. Heaven help her with the things I am going to do to her.

“I don’t care what I am supposed to ask you, Miss Chabert. I asked you a fucking question. Answer me, beautiful. You want to find out what happens when you ignore me?”

How much fun will it be if she does?Chapter 4DeltaI can’t begin to tell you all the things going through my head, or body right now. First of all, when I walked in the office and smelled his cologne I almost stripped and begged to be his slave. The man smells like sin wrapped in lust. I want to rub myself all over him. The need to lick every drop of anything coating his skin is off the charts. What the fuck is wrong with me? As he is standing in front of me, his cock obviously trying to announce itself, my mouth begins to water. I mean, physically the saliva inside of it is building and threatening to run out between my lips. I keep trying to swallow. Forcing it to slide to the back of my throat and imagining his seed flowing down it, after I had sucked him to completion. I can feel my face heating as the thought crosses my mind.

To be honest, from the moment I walked into his office I have not been sure who I am. Something in his presence or his essence if you will, calls to a part of me I didn’t know existed. I find myself feeling very feminine, soft spoken, and meek. Like now. I meant the statement about asking me things, to be strong and with a bit of indignation. Unfortunately, it came out as a question. It left my mouth as a mere unsure askance, and even with the irritation I felt towards myself for asking, it still felt right.

“I don’t care what I am or am not supposed to ask you, Miss Chabert. I asked you a fucking question. Answer me, beautiful. Or do you want to find out what happens when you ignore me?”

Is it wrong that I would very much like to know what happens? I want to see what he will do to me if I choose not to answer his questions. Would he put me over his knee and spank me, until I acquiesce, not realizing it is making my poor pussy weep. Would he know that my nipples are distended and hardening, as they beg and pray for him to put them in his mouth. Bite them. Suck them…

“I can see how much that appeals to you little nymph. Fuck, I can even smell it.”

My breathing becomes shallow, but somehow deeper. I begin to squeeze my legs tighter together to quell the ache building in my sensitive kitty. I swear, I am mere minutes from whimpering. I need him to touch me. No. It’s more than that. I need him all over me.

“That is one punishment you have racked up. Still waiting, Delta. Are you in a relationship? Is that why you are telling me you can’t move into my home?”

I know I should tell him it is none of his business. To somehow get out of the trance I seem to be in and tell him where to shove his arrogance, but my mouth won’t form the words. It’s like my body is betraying me. Forcing me to push him to his limits. The weird thing is I want to please him more than anything. Which is why I find myself answering him.

“No, Mr. Phillips. I am solely responsible for my little sister River. She is the reason I need the job. To make sure I can support her and send her to college. It would destroy me if she had to give up her dreams.” I look down at my hands as I wring them, reprimanding myself for not being able to keep my emotions intact. A man like him doesn’t care about my personal issues. Hell, I won’t be surprised if he escorted me to the door right now after hearing that.

“Oh baby. I’m sorry. The investigator my office manager hired failed to mention your sister to me. I will be dealing with him.” He says as he lifts my chin to look at him. His face shows irritation, but somehow, I know it is not at me. “Such a young woman yourself and to be carrying so much. Where are your parents? If I might ask.”