Tease

14 🔥

His eyes, hard and unreadable, followed my movement as I took a seat across from him. I've been called to his office.

Again.

He stares at me for a long minute.

"Raya," he began, "You're writings been slopppy. Your last draft was filled with errors, and your sources... well, let's just say they're less than reliable. I expected more from you."

"Sources? What do you mean?"

His eyes flick down to my laptop in his hands. This is all terribly unprofessional, and I cannot believe he's doing this here. Every time I have a meeting here he finds an excuse to drag me into his office. Not to mention, he didn't let me put underwear on under my skirt today. I shift.

"I went through your search history," he says slowly. Oh god. What?

"Um. Excuse me?" I shoot up, going to grab my laptop from him. He raises a brow at my raised voice, and flicks his eyes back down. I huff and sit.

"How many hits does it take for skin to bruise? Seriously? And then putting that absurdly low number," he adds.

"Oh my god, please stop."

"Not to mention the countless porn searches. In need of inspiration?"

"I- I mean I've never been bruised like that before. But I just figured maybe he's hitting hard"-

"If he was hitting hard enough to bruise her in 15 hits, he'd probably break her hips. Not only that, but if you want bruises a hand isn't realistic. A cane however, that would welt and bruise in maybe 15."

"Well how many hits would it take then?"

"With his hand? I think the whole bruising is unrealistic in this scenario. Especially on the ass."

"Well you're not the author, and I think it makes it hotter."

"I'm sorry. You want bruises on your ass?"

I blush hard. "Well of course not, it's just a fantasy."

"A fantasy you've spent countless hours putting into words. If you want that, then make him hit her with a paddle or cane. The paddle would cause bruising along where the edges of it hits her," he looks at me through his glasses. The glasses he only wears at work and make it impossibly harder to breathe. And function. And look at him at all.

My face grows even hotter, and I'm grateful for the dim lighting in his office. "Okay," I say, trying to keep my voice steady and professional, but I roll my eyes as I say, "I'll rewrite it, then."

"Try that again. With a little less attitude."

I huff. "I can't help it. Everything I write you criticize. And nothing goes without your approval. Honestly, just fuck you," I mumble the last part.

An eyebrow raises. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing," my jaw clamps shut, and I look out the window.

"Do not swear at me."

"It's part of my vocabulary. I could hardly do anything about it."

"Not with me. Take it out of your vocabulary when you're with me."

My stomach flutters, but I say nothing.

"Bratting at home is one thing. This is work."

I shrug, "Just means you cat do anything about it. Plus, you're one to talk."

His gaze turns darker. "Come here."

I shake my head, "Absolutely not."

"Raya..."