The Assistant || Ransom Drysdale

Chapter Two

"F-fuck..." you moaned as you felt his tip pressed against your folds, "Please", you shut your eyes when he entered you -slowly, yet firmly.

His palms were placed at the sides of your head and you could feel his eyes on you face, inspecting your facial expression as he buried himself inside you -deeper and deeper. He filled you so well. It was nothing like before. You had never tried anything like that.

"M-more.." you asked and the man accomplished you, hitting your g-spot again and again, filling you up perfectly.

"Say it, baby girl", a slow, deep thrust. You knew that voice, it was so familiar, yet you didn't know who was talking to you -being unable to open your eyes. "Say that you're mine. Only mine. None touches you as I do. None knows your soft spots. I'm the only one. Be a good daddy's girl".

Something switched in you; now you recognized the voice.

His voice.

Ransom's voice.

Before the alarm could go off, you opened up your eyes and sat up against the headboard of your bed. You were short of breath and sweating as if you had been running a marathon around the city. But you were not.

You decided to get up and head to your bathroom in order to splash freshwater against your hot face, yet, when you took your first step, you felt your inner tights being sticky. You looked down and your skin was completely covered by a warm and slimy liquid. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.

You'd just had a wet dream.

A wet dream about Ransom Drysdale -also known as your boss.

A couple of hours later Sam -Ransom's chef- and you had breakfast together since Ransom wasn't at home that morning, and you two had a moment of relaxation before going back to work. You liked talking to Sam; even though he was a lot older than you, you had always had topics in common. Not to say the friendly relationship you had -being the only ones to have resisted the temptation of quitting the job after only a couple of days.

"He's mentioned something about a package incoming", Sam made a small piece of paper sliding across the marble surface up to you, and you picked it up, reading it, "That's for you".

I want you at home until 9:30. Feel free to order dinner with my credit card.

You crumpled it and threw it in the trash. "I'll be in the office if you need me", you threw him a kiss and grabbed my bag, heading to Ransom's office.

As you entered the room, you smelled its typical smell: good old wood. The old library, given to him by Harlan, was the oldest furniture piece in the entire house. Entering the office was like entering another house, an older house -just like Harlan's- and you hated to admit that, but you actually liked it.

Probably it was your favorite room to stay. The piece of furniture you loved the most was the visibly expensive mahogany desk with golden finishes where usually Ransom worked -when he was in the mood of actually working. On top of it, there was a green lamp and a pen holder, made of the same material as the desk. Since you first came in there, it had always been messy -just like him.

Right next to the door, there was yours, instead; it was a little bit smaller than his but was certainly better arranged and on the top, there was a glass-made vase with orange and yellow tulips.

According to you, they brought a little bit of joy to that place.

As you were about to switch on your personal computer, Sam called you back in the living room. There you found a black box, with little purple sketches on the extendable side, placed on the table in the left part of the big room.