Il Mio Capo Dominante

Il Mio Capo Dominante

Emma- Louise

194.9k Words / Completed
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Introduction

Ho sempre saputo che il mio capo, il signor Sutton, ha una personalità dominante. Lavoro con lui da più di un anno. Ci sono abituata. Ho sempre pensato che fosse solo per affari perché doveva esserlo, ma presto ho capito che è più di questo.

Il signor Sutton e io abbiamo avuto solo un rapporto di lavoro. Lui mi comanda, e io ascolto. Ma tutto questo sta per cambiare. Ha bisogno di un accompagnatore per un matrimonio di famiglia e ha scelto me come bersaglio. Avrei potuto e dovuto dire di no, ma cosa posso fare quando minaccia il mio lavoro?

Accettare quel favore ha cambiato tutta la mia vita. Abbiamo passato più tempo insieme fuori dal lavoro, il che ha cambiato il nostro rapporto. Lo vedo sotto una luce diversa, e lui vede me in un'altra.

So che è sbagliato coinvolgersi con il proprio capo. Cerco di combatterlo ma fallisco. È solo sesso. Che male potrebbe fare? Non potrei essere più in errore perché ciò che inizia come solo sesso cambia direzione in un modo che non avrei mai immaginato.

Il mio capo non è dominante solo al lavoro, ma in tutti gli aspetti della sua vita. Ho sentito parlare del rapporto Dom/sub, ma non è qualcosa a cui ho mai pensato molto. Man mano che le cose si scaldano tra me e il signor Sutton, mi viene chiesto di diventare la sua sottomessa. Come si diventa una cosa del genere senza esperienza o desiderio di esserlo? Sarà una sfida per entrambi perché non sono brava a farmi dire cosa fare fuori dal lavoro.

Non mi sarei mai aspettata che l'unica cosa di cui non sapevo nulla sarebbe stata la stessa cosa che mi avrebbe aperto un mondo completamente nuovo.
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Emma- Louise

Chapter 1

Alyssa

Sono nel mio ufficio, cercando di assicurarmi di finire tutto il mio lavoro così il mio capo non ha motivo di farmi restare fino a tardi. Il mio ufficio è adiacente a quello del mio capo, il signor Sutton. Gli piace assicurarsi che io sia vicina quando ha bisogno di me. La porta deve rimanere aperta a meno che non sia al telefono o abbia una visitatrice nel suo ufficio. Grazie a Dio le pareti sembrano essere insonorizzate perché so cosa fa lì dentro con tutte quelle donne. È un po' un maniaco del controllo.

La porta tra noi si apre improvvisamente. Sospirò e mi preparo per quello che vuole. È estremamente esigente. È anche un arrogante, maleducato, insensibile idiota. Resto solo perché mi piace il mio lavoro e la paga è ottima.

"Alyssa, vieni nel mio ufficio." Ordina, senza emozione nella voce.

Annuisco, "Sì, signore."

Scompare di nuovo nel suo ufficio. Sospirò, mi alzo e mi dirigo verso di lui. Mi fermo davanti alla sua scrivania e aspetto che parli. So bene che non devo aprire bocca prima di lui. Si appoggia indietro sulla sedia e mi osserva con i suoi splendidi occhi marroni. Sì, è un idiota, ma è anche dannatamente bello. Alto, muscoloso con bellissimi occhi marroni profondi e capelli neri. La sua mascella è scolpita perfettamente, e ha un sorriso affascinante, ma non lo vediamo spesso. Odio ammettere che è così dannatamente attraente. Ho occhi, però. È uno di quegli uomini che, quando passi accanto, non puoi fare a meno di dargli una seconda occhiata. Ti attira e ti fa dimenticare come respirare per un secondo. Non ho una cotta per lui; sarebbe troppo cliché, ma non posso negare che sembra un dio greco.

Il modo in cui mi sta fissando mi mette a disagio. Non capisco perché mi stia guardando in quel modo. Non mi ha mai prestato così tanta attenzione nell'anno in cui lavoro qui.

Sono nervosa. Abbasso la testa, i miei occhi sul pavimento. Non potevo sopportare più il contatto visivo intenso.

"Occhi su di me." Comanda.

Un piccolo squittio esce dalle mie labbra, e alzo rapidamente la testa per guardarlo di nuovo.

"Cosa fai questo fine settimana?" chiede.

Fantastico, mi farà lavorare questo fine settimana. Non ho piani e odio lavorare il fine settimana, ma prenderò il doppio del tempo se lo farò. È forse un idiota, ma si assicura che il suo staff sia ben pagato.

"Niente, signore. Ha bisogno di qualcosa da me?"

Si alza e viene a poggiarsi davanti alla sua scrivania.

"Sì. Ho bisogno che tu sia la mia accompagnatrice."

"Il-il-la tua che?" balbetto.

Deve stare scherzando, giusto?

"La mia accompagnatrice. Devo partecipare a un matrimonio di famiglia questo fine settimana. Sono stanco che la gente mi chieda quando mi sistemerò e cose del genere. Quindi, verrai come mia accompagnatrice e fingerai di essere la mia ragazza per il fine settimana." Dice, camminando verso di me con sicurezza.

"No. Hai molte donne. Chiedi a una di loro." Esclamo.

Si avvicina ancora di più, solo pochi centimetri tra i nostri corpi. Sento il calore del suo respiro sul mio viso.

"Nessuna di loro è adatta. Nessuno crederebbe che siano la mia ragazza. Tu, d'altra parte, sei più riservata e saresti qualcuno che la mia famiglia approverebbe." Risponde.

Scuoto la testa, "Non sarò la tua accompagnatrice, signor Sutton. Non mi piace mentire alla gente."

Sto cercando di essere ferma, ma il modo in cui mi guarda dall'alto in basso, dato che sono di qualche centimetro più bassa del suo metro e ottanta e passa, rende tutto più difficile per me. Deglutisco a fatica.

"Sì, lo sarai." Afferma con fermezza.

"Non puoi costringermi a essere il tuo accompagnatore! Non puoi dirmi cosa fare fuori dal lavoro." Ribatto.

Lui ride sommessamente, "Chi avrebbe mai detto che avessi un lato combattivo, signorina Corbet? Ma verrai con me questo fine settimana, o non ti presenti lunedì."

Non può essere serio.

Metto una mano sul fianco e lo fulmino con lo sguardo, "Non puoi farlo. Non puoi minacciarmi di licenziamento perché non faccio quello che mi chiedi."

Lui sorride, riducendo la distanza tra i nostri corpi. Sussulto perché non è mai stato così vicino a me. Profuma bene quanto è bello. Non riesco a gestire questa situazione.

"Sì che posso. L'ho appena fatto. La scelta è tua. Hai tempo fino alla fine della giornata per decidere, signorina Corbet." Dice, tornando a sedersi alla sua scrivania, concentrandosi sul suo lavoro.

Rimango lì, scioccata, senza sapere cosa dire.

"Sei congedata, signorina Corbet. Lascia la porta aperta."

Non alza nemmeno lo sguardo verso di me. Sbuffo frustrata e torno di corsa nel mio ufficio. Lo sento ridere dietro di me. Non desidero altro che sbattere la porta dietro di me, ma peggiorerebbe solo le cose. Non può farlo! Non può minacciare il mio lavoro, vero? Sbuffo e mi siedo sulla mia sedia.

Non capisco perché abbia bisogno che vada con lui. Ho visto le donne che entrano ed escono dal suo ufficio. Sono bellissime. Sono sicura che una qualsiasi di loro potrebbe fare la fidanzata per un giorno. Io non sono niente in confronto a loro. Sono una Jane qualunque, niente di speciale. Non sono il suo giocattolo da usare a suo piacimento.

Sospiro e mi concentro sul lavoro. Non ho bisogno che questa giornata duri di più. Non posso permettermi di non lavorare. Sto risparmiando per comprare una casa invece di affittare finalmente. Voglio anche viaggiare, e questo lavoro è perfetto per guadagnare abbastanza per fare queste cose. Ma vale davvero la pena cedere alle sue richieste per tutto questo?

Non so cosa fare. Ho solo due ore per decidere perché è quando finisce la mia giornata lavorativa. È mercoledì, quindi non mi sta dando molto preavviso. Perché aspettare fino all'ultimo minuto? Mi chiedo se forse la sua accompagnatrice originale si sia tirata indietro all'ultimo momento, e io ero la più vicina a lui per sostituirla. In ogni caso, non mi piace!

Sono abituata a lui essere scortese e autoritario, a chiedermi di fare cose quando si tratta di lavoro, ma questo è completamente diverso. È troppo, anche per una notte. E se le persone con cui lavoro lo scoprissero? L'ultima cosa che voglio o di cui ho bisogno è che la gente pensi che sto andando a letto con il capo. Diventerò conosciuta come la sgualdrina dell'ufficio, un titolo che non desidero avere. Nessuno vuole quel titolo. Come osa mettermi in una posizione del genere? Ci sono altre donne che lavorano qui con me che sarebbero felicissime di fingere con lui e saltare nel suo letto se ne avessero la possibilità. È un uomo popolare, ma non sembra mai mescolare affari e piacere, il che è un buon modo di fare.

Appoggio la testa sulla scrivania e sbuffo tra me e me. Giuro, se non fosse per la sfortuna, non avrei nessuna fortuna.

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