Page 16 of Boss from Hell

Oh my God!

There it was, my dream bed!

The Icon. The luxury bespoke bed from Savoir, made in a time-honored centuries-old tradition and filled with millions of natural micro springs and swathes of teased horse tail hair and wool. All of it hand-made. I couldn’t help myself. I had to stop and stare in fascination at the masterclass in craftsmanship and style.

I’d only ever seen this beauty in a magazine. Here was the king-size version and it was even more regal and beautiful in real life. Maybe the day would come when I could afford to treat myself to the smaller, less expensive version.

So this is where he slept.

I took one last look and moved towards the dressing room. Heck, his dressing room was nearly the same size as my apartment. Everything was meticulously clean and tidy. I saw the laundry bag instantly. It was neatly bagged and even tagged with the name and address of the dry cleaners.

At that moment, I knew that taking his laundry to the dry cleaners was a job that his housekeeper normally did, but hethought asking me to do such a menial thing would humiliate me.

There was a mirror in front of me.

I looked at my reflection. I looked more like a stuffy school teacher than a stripper. My hair was tightly pulled back into a ponytail high on my head. I was wearing a buttoned-up jacket and underneath it a turtleneck top that was not tight by anybody’s standards. Anyone in their right mind, that was. Perhaps a strict religious puritan could find objection to my modest attire.

Mr. Frost was in his right mind and no religious puritan. I could tell just by looking into his eyes that he was as dirty in bed as they came. He just enjoyed chastening and shaming me. I felt anger churn up inside me.

Look at him.

He had everything: looks, brains, success, money. He lived in this beautiful mansion, and he owned that wonderful bed, and yet the ungrateful man never smiled. Never showed any appreciation for anything. He was rude and awful to almost everyone. And frightening me with his black dogs, that… that was unforgivable.

Fuck him.

I unbuttoned my jacket, took it off and draped it over my arm. If I was a waitress I would spit in his food, but I was not. The PA equivalent would be…

Then I had it. I knew exactly what the PA equivalent was.

I snatched up the laundry bag and walked back to the bedroom. No doubt there were video cameras everywhere. Rich people always had them. And because he knew I was coming he probably had them all switched on.

Good!

I walked towards the gorgeous bed, put the laundry bag down on the floor, and my jacket on the bed. Quickly, I slipped out of my shoes, unzipped my skirt and shimmied out of it.

Then…I lay on his bed... my dream bed.

Wow! It was like lying on a cloud. The sheets were cool under my naked skin. Hooking my fingers inside the waistband of my panties I pulled them down my hips and legs.

I knew he was watching. I could feel his regard.

Wantonly, I spread my legs and began to play with myself. Little circles around my clit. I was already soaking wet. I didn’t do what I usually did in private. Instead, I turned it into a magnificent show. Just like a stripper. I kept my eyes open and exaggerated the arch of my body as I slipped my fingers into me. I moaned and made little kitten noises as I finger-fucked myself.

I imagined him opening the door, coming in, and watching me. His icy eyes started to burn with lust.

Lust for me.

Mr. Frost begged me to let him fuck me, but I refused. Instead, I ordered him to eat me. Instantly, and meekly he buried his face between my thighs and sucked me obediently until I was ready to climax.

After I’d come, I sat up and deliberately made sure I left a wet patch on the bed. Leisurely, as if I had all the time in the world, I put on my skirt and zipped it up, but stuffed my panties into my jacket pocket. Then I slipped on my shoes, and smoothed the bed and pillows. Taking one last look at the delightful bed, I picked up the laundry bag and left.

Hope you enjoyed the show, Mr. Frost.

Chapter 9

Max

What the…?