Forced Pleasure

The smoky aroma of pipe tobacco wafted through the air, tickling Francine's nose. Her boss, Micah had been at work all day and well into the night working on reports for a client. She'd stayed with him in order to catch up on work she'd missed and had ended up forming a nasty habit of working late alongside her boss.

She rubbed her nose and inhaled the sensual scent as it floated carelessly through the air.

His office was next to hers and the door had been cracked open. The building itself was old enough that the stale, yet reliable scent of old wood hung in the air and let anyone know that the structure had been around for at least 100 years.

San Francisco had plenty of buildings like that.

Francine adored the older architecture and often told her mate, Nick about the fascinating landscape and building styles she saw in the City by the bay.

Nick's laughter would float over her ears and he'd wish he could see the same sights, but work kept him away. His job as a programming tech took him around the country for various firms. It also gave him interesting stories.

Many of those stories became tales Francine wrote about on a story site she ran in her spare time. Her audience was pretty large, but no one was aware of her proclivities.

She suspected Micah had an inkling of an idea of how she used her voice to lure strangers, often those of the highest 'moral' character, onto her site to give her money that paid for a comfortable lifestyle.

Francine let out a sigh, leaned back in her chair and set her heels up on the oak desk. She crossed her hands behind her head and closed her eyes for just a moment, listening to the sounds of old jazz while pipe smoke continuously filtered in from Micah's office in a steady stream.

What she wouldn't give to waltz right into his office, strip him and fuck his brains out.

She badly needed a break. The stress of working late for so many nights in a row was beginning to get to her. Hell, she even swore she'd developed an emotional connection deeper than lust for Micah.

Not only had she been playing catch up on her main jobs, but he'd been working her to the bone for the last few weeks and it was starting to grate on her nerves. Her hormones had begun to run amuck. Nick's hectic work schedule kept them from playing often.

And Micah was a stunning, handsome specimen of male who just happened to wear his heart on his sleeve. He'd even shown an occasional romantic side by making sure red roses filled the vase on her desk almost weekly now for the last six months.

Imagining the Norse god of a man running all that thick blond hair over her heated skin made her sweat. The thought of how his rough fingers would feel when he caressed her nipples made her pussy weep and breath come in pants.

As tired as she would be when she finally did get home, it would take effort to break out the vibrator, anal plug and nipple clamps while she fucked herself to sleep.

In her fantasies, Nick had come home and tied her to the bed in her sleep. He'd stripped off what little clothing she wore and forced her ass up in the air.

Then he'd lube her up and take her from behind while she was commanded to suck off her boss.

She sighed again and felt the material of her top rub against her breasts.

Micah chose that moment to step into her office. "Frankie, I need some food. Do you want anything?"

She swung her feet off the desk and leaned forward, propping her chin on her hands. The look in Micah's gaze spelled more than want for food.

Dark blue eyes held a gleam of something wicked that begged her to stand and strut across the room, hike up her skirt and tug him against her with one thigh.

Instead, she remained still, watched him run a hand through waist length blond hair he kept loose. It splayed over his chest in contrast against the dark maroon shirt he wore.

Black jeans hugged his hips.

She licked her lips.

He cocked his head to the side, "Frankie, food?"

She shook the lust from her mind and focused on him once more. "Oh yeah. Sure. What did you have in mind?"

He blinked. "Probably sushi or Mexican. There's that all night joint in the Mission that delivers. We can go together, stretch our legs or I can just send out for it."

She yawned and stretched stiffness from her muscles. The aches in her body were starting to get to her. "We should probably go for a walk but what time is it?"

A glance at the clock on her computer let her know it was too late to be in the Mission. "Order out. We can stretch by going downstairs and getting the food when it arrives. It'll be my treat."

He nodded.

The office on Market had a great view overlooking the street and during the day the sound of various cable cars could be heard along with traffic and flowing crowd, especially during the winter holidays.

Francine slid from her chair in a graceful move that let her stretch and show off a little thigh at the same time. She became very aware of the intense gaze on her.

A quick turn had her facing the window. With one hand she thrust the window open and felt a blast of cold air against her face.

Her nipples beaded in response.

Micah had been staring at her ass again with that same intensity that indicated just how much he was attracted to her.

A hand landed on her shoulder.

She spun around and found herself staring into Micah's dark blue eyes. The light in the office made them appear so much darker, like the depths of the ocean. The curve of his plump lips looked inviting enough to bite.

The set of his jaw was firm but his smile was pleasant.

"Have to be careful," the dark tone in his voice reverberated throughout her body. "The old wood in these windows is heavy but the panes aren't as solid as newer glass."

"Oh I know how to handle wood," she let the innuendo slip out before she could stop herself.

He chuckled low, a throaty sound. "Is that so?"

Wetness filled her core. The depth of his voice sent a shiver up her spine she couldn't ignore. Was he flirting back with her?

His smile softened. "Come on, let's go outside for a bit of fresh night air. It's needed. Besides, I need to let the office air out a bit."

She nodded again. "Yeah it's a bit smoky even here." She couldn't ignore the fact that she could smell him even through the thick Latakia tobacco that clung to him. She wondered what it would smell like if she buried her face in his silken locks while he buried his cock in her.

Again she shook the thought from her mind and focused on something other than the fact that Micah was standing so close she could smell him.

The desk, that was it. The ding on her email client sounded and drew her attention to it, rather than the empowering feel of standing so close to her boss.

"You should be more careful, Frankie. I'd guess that boyfriend of yours isn't taking care of you very well if you're this jumpy around a coworker."

"I doubt you're the reason I'm jumpy, Micah." She lied. "Besides, you've never been the coworker type. You're more the...encroaching boss type." Lust dripped from her voice in hopes that he'd take the bait.

A perfectly blonde eyebrow rose. "Encroaching? Sounds like grounds for sexual harassment lawsuit I'd rather avoid."

"Oh please," she laughed, "a man like you has never cared for the worries of others."

He chortled and stepped away. "I beg to differ. I care for the right worries."

Francine fought the urge to snicker. She'd seen the way Micah behaved with other attractive women. He'd been the smoothest talker possible, made sure to keep his hair back from his gorgeous face. Long blond lashes fluttered when he spoke about business, and even more when they laughed.

Women had always fallen for him.

Yet he'd pushed them away.

"Still," he cleared his throat, "this doesn't solve our little problem. Come." He set a hand on her shoulder.

She almost came from the purr of his voice over her ears and the sensation of his hand on her. It wasn't skin on skin contact but she'd spent too long ogling Micah.

The delicate way he held her with just one hand emanated power. Hell, just his presence, she believed, oozed commanding.

"Let's go. Just a few flights of stairs after I order food. You want the usual." It was a statement.

She nodded. "Indeed." Micah released her and turned around.

Francine licked her lips. She could practically taste the Latikia.

Maybe it was time for a seduction. Her body needed the release. Her pussy ached for fulfillment in the form of something thick and cream filled.

She bet Micah had that in spades.

She followed him down the flights of stairs, watching the way his hair swished over hips she'd love to hold while riding him.

It became difficult to keep her lustful thoughts to herself. Every opportunity to brush against him she'd taken in the small stairwell. Every little connection sent a spark through her.

By the time she realized she'd grabbed hold of his shoulder, it was too late.

She found herself falling into the pools of his eyes.

"You want me."

The deep rumble of his voice purred over her ears, grabbing her senses in a sensual embrace. Her lips were dry. Unconsciously her tongue darted out to moisten them.

The corners of his mouth curled upwards in a delectable smile.

Her nerves thrummed with excitement. Nipples tightened and she found herself rubbing squeezing her thighs together to alleviate pressure.

That gesture didn't help.

She did indeed want him with every fiber of her body.

He lowered his mouth to hers but didn't quite touch her. "Tell me you want me, Francine. Tell me."

She wanted to admit it but the game was much more fun when she protested. But her hormones weren't going to satisfy themselves. "I do." Her hushed whisper matched his.

"Good." He backed off and laid one hand on the wall by her head. "Then we'll settle this. After dinner."

"But," she reached out to catch empty air.

He turned and walked away from her. "Follow along, Francine. This will be more fun if you obey me."

Hormones beat a steady yet loud drum in anticipation of what he might have in store for them.

They reached the bottom flight and his heels clicked along the marble floor. Just as she watched him turn the corner, she stopped.

A hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her against the wall so hard it almost knocked the breath out of her.

She started to voice a protest but a pair of lips, hot and heavy, sealed over hers in a very aggressive, delicious way. She moaned against the mouth that took her.

Hard and fast, a tongue plunged between her lips while fingers dug into her hip and made her cry against him.

Her eyes widened. Every nerve stood on attention. Micah kissed, nipped and nibbled her mouth with his eyes closed.

Trapping her against the wall with his body, he pressed himself into her proving his body's reaction to her.

He was throbbing with definite need between his thighs. His tongue probed her mouth again and stroked hers, caressing it, coaxing it into his mouth.

Her heart fluttered, her skin warmed. She gasped into another kiss that left her breathless.

The smell and taste of smoky pipe tobacco had been mixed with caramel and vanilla, probably from the scotch. Underlining the heady adult aromas was the heady scent of male, potent and pure.

Her knees went weak but she urged the muscles in her thighs to wrap around him and squeeze. Hard.

Micah moaned, sending vibrations along her spine. His fingers inched up her thigh, bunching her skirt slightly so she could feel him against her bare skin.

Her breasts ached, nipples beaded into tight buds that crushed against the fabric of her top. She was wearing too many clothes.

So was he.

Damnit!

Then, he stopped.

She whimpered again and slumped her shoulders, aware of the lopsided grin she wore.

The serious burn in his eyes clued her in on his mood. His arousal was no longer pressing against hers and that was probably a good thing. She wanted badly to jump him now.

"It's time to get some fresh air." He turned and pushed his way past the glass door with her in tow.

When they got outside, a blast of cool air hit them that did nothing to calm her body's desire. In fact, her nipples now begged for one touch of those sensual, full lips or one flick of his tongue.

A hand caught hers and held it tightly.

She looked at Micah. The expression on his face gave her no clue other than his obvious arousal, as to what he was thinking. He was doing it again, masking his emotions with that blank stare on his face. She had tried that and it didn't' really work to her advantage in the past. Nick saw right through her.

Micah was different.

"Nice night," she looked at the ground then back at Market Street.

A bus passed.

Micah didn't respond.

She wasn't about to take silence as a good sign. "Don't you think you were a little forward?

He snorted.

She set her hands on her hips and faced him directly. "What's that supposed to mean?

"A derisive snort is usually obvious." The deep rumble of his voice excited her.

"So you're just going to leave me unsatisfied like all other males. Great." She turned away.

Hands caught her shoulders and spun her so fast she saw the blur of her red hair before a hand brushed her thick mane away.

Flames danced wildly in Micah's eyes yet his tone remained cordial. Controllably calm. "That is far from the truth. I have never left a woman unsatisfied."

It was her turn to snort now. "I figured you'd say something like that. Most men usually do."

His grip on her shoulders tightened. "I'm not most men as you will soon see. You've been very taunting me. This is unacceptable. I'd say you require," his mouth curved upwards in a smile that Francine found fearfully arousing, "correction."

She tried to hold back the snickers that bubbled from within but failed miserably. "You? You're going to correct me? I find that laughable."

He released her. "Indeed you do now, but," he sighed forcefully, "when the time is right you will learn I am always in control of everything."

She wanted to push his buttons more, make him show her what he meant by corrections. Maybe it'd involve nude cowboys and robbers. Or something like wild faeries and unicorns. But now wasn't the time to press him. She was already on the verge of having an orgasm just from the mere feel of him pressed against her; she needed to rein in her hormones a little more. And he needed to let go of some of the aggression somehow. She tried for diplomacy. "Okay," she reached for his arm. "Look it's been a long past few weeks for both of us. Why don't we get that bite to eat and deal with this later."

Micah rolled his shoulders and kept a very focused stare on her.

She swore she felt tension pour off him in waves. There was more to him than just sexual tension here. His body was tired, his posture reflected that. Sure he still stood beside her with confidence and certainty, but it was a tired stance.

Micah shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Okay." He let out another exasperated sigh. "Food would do us wonders right now."

She nodded. "Yes. Then," she let the sentence hang in the air between them.

An hour later, dinner had been consumed and both sat patiently in Micah's office. He had the same wood floor she did. Dark wood outlined the walls and a few bookshelves were filled with various books. On his oak desk sat a pipe ashtray, his pipe tool, PC and nothing else. He lit his pipe with a seriousness Francine hadn't expected.

The air filled instantly with the smoky, heady smell of Latakia and Oriental tobacco. She'd grown accustomed to the smell, almost as if the smell belonged to Micah. It reminded her of something feral, yet reined in.

He leaned back, put his feet on the desk and exhaled slowly.

She watched the rise and fall of his chest and groaned.

He tilted his head forward and looked dead at her. The smile on his face looked bemused. She could only guess what he was thinking. "Something the matter, Francine?"

She shook her head, "Nope. I'm just tired."

"I figured," he pointed at her with the stem of the pipe, "You need a break. You've been here with me nightly for the last several weeks and I know not seeing Nick has taken its toll on you."

She nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so. But how do you stop when you're so close to finishing a project?"

"You don't." He took another puff on the pipe, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke into the air. Micah then picked up the pipe tool, flipped it open with care and began poking around the bowl. "You simply finish the project and take your break then."

Maybe it was the settled feeling in her stomach or the comfort which she felt with him but she decided to prod him further. The memory of their earlier kiss flashed in her head and made her remember the exotic taste of him. Her voice dropped, "Is that what you do?"

Micah let the pipe rest in a large ashtray. He clasped his hands together and eased back in the chair. "Sometimes. Other times I just..." He blinked, "find release in other ways."

She sensed where this was going if she pressed a little harder. "You're the kind who would find release in someone then." She made it a fact.

The expression in his eyes changed before her. Instead of seeming cool and calculated, his eyes narrowed slightly, the sensual play of his mouth curved upward in a half snarl, half grin. His features darkened when his hair fell against the sides of his face.

Perhaps it was the lighting.

Francine looked around and then back at Micah's desk. His shoulders jerked but he looked like he was fighting to keep calm.

She stood. "What do you want? Do you," she took one step towards him. Anticipation built in her stomach that made her giggle, "want release, Micah?"

Micah looked down and the blonde locks that shaded his face blocked out the view.

She put another foot forward, crossing her legs in an inviting manner. "Nick would have to know eventually. But," she ran a fingernail over her bottom lip while he watched her, "but we could have this one night."

Running a hand through his hair, he smoothed it back from his face. Micah looked at her. His eyebrows furrowed together. "You'd cheat on him?"

"It's not exactly cheating when you have an open relationship dear."

The surprised look on Micah's face almost made her laugh aloud.

She took one more step forward, letting her skirt hike up her thigh. "I'd love to give you release, Micah."

By now her voice dripped with sensuality and seduction. She knew how she sounded and watching Micah slowly rise from his desk confirmed her thoughts.

He wanted her badly.

CHAPTER TWO

Micah's eyes blinked and darted around before settling on her. He looked her up with a heated gaze that spoke more of wanton lust than sweet romance.

Seconds later he was around the desk and a pair of hands gripped her shoulders. Lips locked onto hers.

She breathed in the heavy scent of pipe tobacco and picked up the definite raw maleness of him beneath that. She inhaled into the kiss.

His groin pressed against hers.

She felt herself being walked back towards the desk.

Francine went willingly. It would be fun to spread her legs on top of his desk and feel him fill her.

His mouth nibbled on hers, his tongue swept across her lower lip. He tasted, thrust in and out of her mouth while his fingers clenched her shoulders.

She felt the edge of his desk against the backs of her thighs. A hand slid down her arm and reached for the hem of her skirt.

Quickly, warm fingers spread over her thighs, brushing across the tops of her stockings.

She wished she'd worn a garter today; it added to her overall sex appeal. Oh well. No use in crying over that while that mouth of Micah's fastened to her neck and suckled hard.