The Interview Read Online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
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“Not my concern,” I mutter, glancing at her dress pointedly. “Do I have to strip you myself?”

Her hands immediately slip under the hem of her dress, and I spot a flash of pink lace.

“An unproductive worker and a liar to boot.”

She lifts her gaze but not her head as she realizes what I mean. “You didn’t really expect to find me walking around bared-assed, did you?”

Catching her chin in my hand, I raise her head. “What I didn’t expect to find was you sitting in my chair, rubbing your pussy.” A blush immediately tints her cheeks. “But now that I have, I hope to see it again. Maybe from a closer vantage point.”

“You are so bad.”

“No, Miss Valente. You’re the one in trouble here. Surely a man of my position shouldn’t be required to supervise you every minute of your day.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To watch me.” There’s so much encouragement in her reply, but I don’t break character.

“You can’t even pretend to be contrite. I can see I’ll need to force you to see the error of your ways. Punish you for your behavior.”

“I—”

“No need to answer.” I release her chin. “Take off your underwear.”

“Here?” Big, innocent eyes blink back at me. “While you watch?”

In answer, I hold out my hand. “Hurry, Miss Valente. Hand them over.”

I spot the ghost of her smile as she ducks her head, slipping her hands under the hem of her dress. A moment and a suggestive wiggle later, something pink and lacy slides down her legs.

“Sir.” She passes the warm fabric to my hand, a spark of electricity passing between us as our fingers inadvertently touch.

“Bend over the desk, Miss Valente.”

“What?” Is it nerves or excitement that makes her voice wobble?

“Press your palms on the desk and bend over this end.” I point at a spot away from my chair.

She does this without a word of complaint, bringing the vibrators into her immediate line of sight. “I feel so…”

“Vulnerable?”

“Now that you mention it.” She swallows audibly.

“Do you think you’ll have a favorite?”

“I guess I won’t know until I try them out.”

“All of them. But not at once. “This one,” I say, leaning over her but not quite allowing my body to touch hers. “I think it’ll be this one.” I put down her phone and rest my finger on the bag containing the wand. She immediately begins to giggle and splutter her denials.

“It looks like something to work the kinks out of your shoulders.”

“Oh, I think there’s no working the kinks out of you.” I pull away, and the soles of my shoes scrape against the floor as I study her from several vantage points.

“What are you doing?” She glances over her shoulder, her gaze skating down my body, bold and possessive. I fucking love the way her eyes stick on the way my pants tent. I palm myself as I step closer.

“I’m staring at your delectable arse.” I lift the back of her dress higher with a deliberate gentleness. Folding it across her back, I run my hand over the roundness as she gasps. Her tension unfurls in a long sigh as I slide them along her bare pussy. “Wondering when you’ll let me fuck it.” I almost feel her flutter against my hand. “Open wider for me, Miss Valente. Let me see what I have to work with.”

“This is a strange punishment,” she whispers as she steps her feet wider.

“This part is just for my enjoyment.” My hand slices through the air, the connection of my palm making her flesh quiver. “That was part of yours.”

“Oh!”

“Say thank you.”

“For what—”

I slide two fingers inside her pussy, and the way she groans feels like a lick to the underside of my balls.

“I’ve barely touched you, and you’re making such a mess of my fingers. It looks like I’ll have to work harder to make you more contrite.” I press my fingers deeper, twisting my hand at the wrist. She begins to whimper and thrusts back against my hand. “What was that?”

“I said I’m s-sorry, sir. Please don’t stop.”

“This.” My fingers slip wetly away as I lean over her a second time, pulling a notepad and pencil from across my desk. My fingers glisten with her silky pleasure as I scratch out a note. “Read it,” I instruct, sliding it to face her. For all my formal commands, I can’t help but graze my mouth over the corner of hers. She smiles shyly, and the flash of that gap between her teeth makes me feel like I could climb inside her. I’ve had a lot of sex. Fucked a lot of women in a lot of places (holes and otherwise), but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. It’s like I can feel it in my guts and bones, the gnawing sensation that I’ll never have enough of her. She feels like home. She feels like she belongs to me.


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