A Man Without Mercy

When she hesitated further, her new, wicked self started whispering in her ear.

Yes, Vivienne, what are you waiting for? You want to take your clothes off for him. You know you do. You want to see him look at your breasts the way he did yesterday. You want to see those hard blue eyes glitter with lust for you. More than anything, you want to abandon every inferior feeling you’ve ever had about yourself when to comes to sex. Jack thinks you’re hot stuff. Then be hot stuff, girl. It’s now or never!

Her hands still shook as she took off her jacket slowly—very slowly—the way Jack had ordered. She hated the thought of dropping it on the floor, such an action going against Vivienne’s compulsion to keep everything neat and tidy. But, since there weren’t any chairs in the room, she really had no option. In a weird kind of way, actually letting the jacket drop from her fingers onto the carpet produced a strangely liberating buzz. By the time her hands went to the top button of her shirt, Vivienne was surprised to see that they were no longer shaking. Her breathing had quickened, however. Not from nerves; from excitement. She watched Jack’s eyes as she flicked open each button. They weren’t on her face, of course. They were riveted to her chest.

It did bother Vivienne slightly that she was wearing a white cotton minimiser bra rather than the kind of lacy half-cup push-up number Jack was probably expecting. After all, he’d made it clear he believed that underneath her cool, career-woman surface she was a seriously sexy babe, the sort of woman who would wear seriously sexy underwear.

As much as she liked that idea, Jack was, unfortunately, mistaken. All she could hope for was that he wouldn’t care once she took the darned thing off. He’d obviously liked the look of her breasts yesterday so she wasn’t shy about showing them off to him. Frankly, she no longer felt at all shy. Amazing!

His eyes remained glued to her chest whilst she peeled her blouse back off her shoulders and let it flutter down to the floor. His expression didn’t change at the sight of her cotton bra, though Vivienne was quick to remove the less-than-flattering garment from her body. Now his eyes narrowed, his lips parting slightly as he drew in a ragged breath then let it out slowly. Finally, his eyes lifted to her face.

‘Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful breasts in the world?’

‘No,’ she replied truthfully. Daryl had said how beautiful she was all the time, but he’d never singled out her breasts for his compliments.

‘I find that hard to believe. They are incredible. I could look at them all day. But I’d infinitely prefer to touch them.’ he said as he removed his hands from behind his head.

Vivienne’s nipples responded to his declaration of intent by standing to attention in the most flagrant fashion. Obviously they wanted to be touched as much as Jack wanted to touch them. She removed the rest of her clothes in one brisk movement, thereby hiding her rather unflattering white cotton briefs. On top of that, it didn’t allow time for her mind to fill with negative thoughts about her wide hips or soft stomach, or the many other physical flaws which worried her from time to time. Jack might think her breasts perfect but not all men liked full breasts, or hourglass figures.

Her first serious boyfriend—the insensitive creep—had told her that he actually preferred skinny girls. But he’d loved that she was a virgin. Needless to say, their relationship hadn’t lasted, and Vivienne had taken some considerable time before she’d risked her heart—and her body—a second time.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about her heart this time, since she wasn’t in love with Jack.

‘You are one seriously beautiful woman,’ he said thickly, his hot gaze reflecting his admiration. ‘Now get yourself over here, Vivienne. I’ve done enough watching for one day.’

Never in her life had Vivienne felt as sexy—or as excited—as she did at that moment.

‘Coming, boss,’ she said in a low, sultry voice, sashaying over to stand at the side of the bed.

Jack looked her slowly up and down with a decidedly lascivious gaze. ‘Mmm. I like it when you call me that.’

For some weird and wonderful reason, she liked calling him that too. Strange, when normally she found his bossy ways extremely irritating.

‘Okay, Vivienne,’ he went on. ‘Take this condom here and put it on me. I don’t think I can manage after that wicked striptease of yours.’

Vivienne wasn’t sure that she could manage, either. She’d never put a condom on before. But no way was she going to tell him that. Any self-respecting sexually experienced woman should be able to slip on protection with their eyes closed. ‘Truly,’ she said with just the right amount of droll exasperation as she picked up the foil packet and ripped it open the way she’d seen Daryl do. ‘Are you sure this will fit?’ She stared down at the small circle of rubber.