A Valentine for His Secretary (His Secretary: Undone) by Melanie Marchande Page A

promise." Sighing, I sink a little deeper into my seat. He knows it's difficult for me to follow instructions to the letter, especially if I'm sure I have a better way of doing it. It's one of the things that makes our sex life so interesting.  
    I'm not submissive by nature. I never was. Unlike some, I wasn't born with the urge to kneel. But it grew in me, fostered by doubt and insecurity, and now it lives in my head like an unwanted guest who sleeps on the sofa all day and refuses to refill the ice cube trays. When I first started working for Adrian, I hated how he rolled his eyes at everything and everyone, barked orders, and put me through ridiculous ordeals in the name of keeping him happy. But not as much as I loved it.
    The whole dynamic between us fed something in me that I hadn't recognized until then. An enforced boundary, an understanding - I could push back, but at the end of the day it didn't matter. He was the God of Risinger Industries, and I was cast in the role of his loyal servant.
    And there was an odd comfort in that. Though I often took the brunt of his foul moods when something went wrong, I knew it wasn't my fault. I'd never be held responsible for his mistakes. Sure, I spent my days being subservient to an obnoxious tyrant, but it could always be worse. Heavy is the head that wears the crown .
    For me, being in charge of something always feels like playing a slot machine. One part exhilarating, two parts terrifying, and with a side of obnoxious sound effects. Those used to take the form of Adrian criticizing absolutely everything I did, but nowadays he mostly keeps his mouth shut.
    Mostly.
    Now that we're a couple, the dynamic has grown into something else. Something deep and satisfying. My unwanted houseguest has become a welcome friend, reminding me that it's okay to like this. The sense of peace under his command, the sharp release of emotions when his hand connects with my ass. The pain and the pleasure together - sharp, bright, and almost obscenely arousing. I stumbled into it almost by accident, but it was no accident for him. I wonder how long he thought about spanking me before he did it. I can still see it vividly in my mind's eye. The game of keep-away with my panties that became much more than a game - the moment he yanked them out of his pocket, it was obvious how that night was going to end. I might've accidentally lost them on the dance floor, but you don't keep a girl's panties in your pocket unless you want her.
    That was my signal. Our earlier encounter in the pool had been no accident, no momentary lapse in judgment. He wanted more, and he wanted it now.
    We'd already gotten physical with the grabbing and dodging, so when he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the sofa it didn't feel like an invasion. He ordered me across his lap for a spanking and of course it was really an invitation, which I knew - we both knew. It was foreplay.  
    I could've said no, but I never would have forgiven myself.
    Snapping back to the present, I realize he's been quiet for a while. Is he sitting across from me? I think so, but I can't be sure. The hum of the engines makes it difficult to pick up on more subtle sounds.
    I feel the warmth of his body moments before something cold presses into my palm. He's suddenly very close, but when I shift towards him he pulls away.
    It's a coin, I think. "Penny for my thoughts?" I guess.
    He chuckles. "See, I knew this was going to be hard. How do you surprise someone who's smarter than you are?"
    "Right." I think my voice sounds a little husky, because God help me, I can't stop thinking about that night. "Pull the other one."
    He's back in his seat again, I think. "You see everyone and everything very clearly, except yourself. That's always been your problem, hasn't it?"
    "Yeah, that's what they put under my high school yearbook picture." I shift in my seat, the lingering arousal from my memories surprisingly difficult to shake. "You ran a company, I ran coffee.