Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Stuart raised his glass.
“Did you notice the name of the restaurant?” he asked, a smile on his face.
I blinked at him. It seemed absurd, but I hadn’t. I shook my head.
“Le Jardin Intime,” he told me.
My lips parted, and my eyes went wide.
“The Secret Garden?” I asked. “Or… close enough.”
Stuart chuckled. “Definitely close enough.” He lifted his champagne flute a little higher. I did the same, smiling, feeling like the bubbles had somehow gotten inside my chest.
“To your secret garden, Melissa,” Stuart said, raising his glass. “And to the bright future ahead of us at Selecta.”
I felt my tummy flip as we clinked glasses, and I felt the heat flow through my whole body at the lewd, terribly arousing suggestion in his words. The future ahead of us. What did that mean, exactly?
What does it mean for my secret garden? The place Stuart insisted be kept tidy… the part of me he dressed in beautiful lace for this evening… the place he made me take his cock, after my paddling over his desk… the place he clearly means to claim even more thoroughly, tonight?
CHAPTER 19
Stuart
The conversation flowed seamlessly. I could feel myself growing more enchanted with Melissa every second. Her intelligence shone through in every word, her eyes sparkling with passion as we discussed literature and philosophy. I couldn’t help but admire the way her mind worked, always probing deeper, challenging assumptions. That quality, I knew, would make her a major asset to Selecta—and it made me desire her all the more.
“So tell me,” I said, leaning in slightly as our main course arrived, “if you were to recommend one work by Carlyle for me to read, what would it be?”
Melissa’s brow furrowed adorably as she considered the question. “That’s a tough one,” she mused. “I suppose it depends on what aspect of his work you’re most interested in.”
I smiled, enjoying her thoughtful approach. “Let’s say I’m particularly intrigued by his views on leadership.”
“Ah,” Melissa nodded, her eyes lighting up. “In that case, I’d have to recommend the one about heroes.”
She paused, her eyes going to the ceiling as she obviously sought for an exact title. A contradictory urge abruptly came into my chest and my head, and—I had to confess—my cock. I wanted somehow simultaneously to hold this lovely girl gently in my arms and to make her kneel before me and minister with reverence to my raging erection.
“It’s got a great title,” she mused. “I want to get it right.”
Her eyes lit up, and she smiled triumphantly at me.
“On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History,” she said. “It’s a really fascinating exploration of the role of great individuals in shaping society. Kind of ahead of its time.”
“Sounds like an apt choice,” I replied, cutting into a succulent morsel of the boeuf bourguignon. “So how do you think Carlyle’s ideas on heroic leadership might apply in our modern corporate world?”
Melissa paused, taking a sip of wine as she formulated her response. I watched the graceful line of her throat as she swallowed, imagining how it would feel to trail kisses along that elegant curve.
“Well,” she began, “I think there are absolutely a lot of parallels to be drawn. Carlyle argued that history is shaped by exceptional individuals who possess a sort of divine inspiration. In the corporate world, people like to think that a charismatic CEO or a visionary founder have what it takes to solve every problem—embody the heroic ideal, take everything to the next level… reveal, you know, all the things ordinary mortals can’t see.”
I could see, even in the dim candlelight, that Melissa had blushed. The confidence in her voice had faltered as she finished speaking, and she looked down at her plate.
“And do you see yourself as one of those heroic figures, Melissa? Someone destined to shape the future of Selecta?”
The blush in her cheeks became even more noticeable as she looked up again and met my eyes. “I… I’m not sure I’d go that far,” she demurred. “I mean, I do hope to make a significant impact. But…”
I smiled, sure I understood where her bashfulness had come from.
“I have no doubt that you will,” I assured her, my voice low and intimate. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
Our eyes locked, and I saw a flicker of understanding pass through Melissa’s gaze. She knew I wasn’t just talking about her professional contributions.
“Of course,” I continued, “even the greatest heroes need guidance sometimes, especially at the outset. A firm hand to keep them on the right path.”
Melissa
I felt my heart skip a beat as Stuart’s words hung in the air between us. The intimate atmosphere of the restaurant suddenly felt too close, almost stifling. I seemed to have become acutely aware of every sensation—the soft fabric of my dress against my skin, the slight tug of the lingerie underneath, the heat rising in my cheeks.