Derision: A Novel (5 page)

She’s every bit as strong and commanding as me. She simply hasn’t realized her power.

“And so that’s why you’re really here, then. Taking an ass fucking from me.” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “For money.”

Her tiny sob spears me as she shakes her head. “No – I’m not a whore.” She lifts her head higher despite her position. “If I’m promoted, I’ll do the job. I have to.”

A small smile twists my mouth. “Then you’re just a dirty, filthy girl who craves this—who needs to have her desires forced on her. You’re too ashamed to ask for what you need.”

Her response doesn’t come quickly enough, and I press hard against her clit. She moans out her reply. “Yes.”

God. What a beautiful creature. My willful temptress. I circle her clit, increasing my thrusts. Her legs quiver, her stifled moan a livewire to my cock.

She’s close, and when she soaks my hand, I bite out a curse. I lower myself near her ear. “Why didn’t you tell me you rain, Alexis? Your sweet little cunt just rained all over my hand.”

Her head shakes, denying my claim. And this excites me; discovering something she doesn’t even know her body is capable of. Just the thought of her sweet pussy drenching my cock has me biting my lip and nearly drawing blood.

I can feel her there…so close to coming. I stop my movements, earning a desperate whimper as her whole body clenches from my denial.

“Stand up,” I order.

After being in her bent-over position, being denied her orgasm over and over, her body visibly aches as she shakily pushes up to stand.

I cup the nape of her neck, spearing my fingers into her hair and angling her gaze on me. “Kick off your shoes.” As she does, lowering herself before me, she’s in an even more submissive stance. “Don’t move.”

As I walk around her, I undo my tie. Yanking it free from my collar, I band the ends around my hands, stretching out the silk as I raise it over her head. “You’re not to remove this. At any point.”

Her heavy breaths tease me, her chest rising with each desperate inhale. I pull the ends, fastening the blindfold securely. Then I clamp my anxious hands to her shoulders and guide her toward the floor. “Kneel. Ass to your heels.”

Once she’s in position, a pure vision in the middle of my dark office, I take off my shirt. Tossing it to the desk, I walk around her, admiring my coveted possession. Alexis must be handled delicately but firmly.

“Spread your knees apart,” I say, wrapping my hand around my cock. “Wide as you can, until your pussy nearly touches the floor.” As she transitions, plainly struggling to obey my command to my pleasing, I move close so she can sense my presence.

Her body trembles at my nearness, and I increase my strokes, rubbing her scent up and down my shaft. “I’m going to give you what you need, Alexis. I’m going to fuck you—slow and tenderly, fast and hard, over and over—until you’re so beautifully spent, you’ll be desperate to be my whore.” She flinches at my harsh tone.

With a timid raise of her hand, she begs a question. I smile down at her. Truly so rare a find. My cock hardens at the thought of how I’m going to break her. And how she’ll love me for it.

“You want to ask something? Ask,” I give her permission.

She lowers her hand to her thigh. “You can have anyone—” she breaks off. Then: “What do you need from me?”

I inhale a deep breath. Placing my fingers beneath her chin, I tilt her mouth up to me. “Your complete submission.”

I knew early on that a normal relationship, what the world considers
healthy
, didn’t suit me. When you’re sixteen and telling your girlfriend she’s put on weight just to see the defeated look in her eyes as you demand she sit on your face… Well, you know right away you’re not normal.

It’s an ugly truth, the realm where I reside. There’s no Prince Charming here. I’m aroused by a woman’s humility. I need to debase them, make them just as desperate as I am to feel the relief that comes from granting their control to me. It’s not a preference. It’s not even a fetish. I have to dominate every other aspect of my life—my career, my connections, myself—it’s only natural, then, that I’d also only be satisfied with a truly submissive counterpart.

The irony is this: I’ve never taken a submissive.

I’ve had slaves, whores, plenty of cunts to demean. Being a member of The Firm fed my cravings and sustained my hunger so I never had to bother with the laborious task of training a sub.

I don’t care to keep any of them around longer than their purpose negates.

And there’s plenty of turnover in The Firm to keep me satisfied. I adhere strictly to my rules. I keep my personal preferences outside of my professional life. While my partners take pleasure in grooming their subs from the inside—Lark and Gannet being the perfect playground for their amusements—I actively seek the less complicated route.

Until Alexis Wilde, my temptress, breezed into my conference room. She stole my power, my will, and has been flaunting her triumph ever since. It’s time she learns who her Master is.

“Open your mouth, temptress.”

First, like the fucking tease she is, she licks her lips, effectively luring me until I’m forced to shove my cock against her mouth. She reels from the force of it, but I grab the top of her head and direct her to take me.

The slip of her tongue along my shaft, her hot mouth, wet and inviting, consumes my senses. I’m relieved she can’t see just how much she affects me.

“Memorize my taste,” I say, pushing farther inside, guiding her mouth to accept me fully. “Memorize your taste on me. From here on out, you should always know exactly whose cock you’re sucking. Your scent will be the only one clinging to me. And as per my rules, as you’ve given me permission to own you, no other man is to touch you unless I command otherwise. You now belong to me, and only me.”

I fist my hand in her hair as she gags the deeper I thrust. She takes me expertly, her tongue my new obsession.

“You obey me, and I gratify you for your obedience. But any displeasure will result in punishment.” In the art of full disclosure, I give her a direct answer to why I’ve chosen her. “I’m your Master. I’m your Dominant. And now, Alexis, you’re my submissive.”

T
he gravity
of my very extreme, very precarious situation doesn’t register past the almost dreamlike quality of my surroundings until Chase’s manhood hits the back of my throat.

My eyes spring open against the dark.

I’m blindfolded. With his silk tie. On my knees. Naked—all but my stockings.

He means to degrade me. He intends to make me his possession. I am shaking—but not from fear. I have never, ever been this aroused by a man before. I’m so desperate to feel this elusive pleasure he’s promised that I’ve willingly submitted to him without clearly knowing the guidelines, or what he intends as punishment.

Another in my position might detest this uncertainty. Might fear his cruelty. Might feel indignant over the prospect of being owned.

But I know the difference. I know that when a person wishes to cause you suffering or pain—when they crave to strip you of your power—they don’t ask permission first.

They take.

Chase isn’t taking anything I’m unwilling to give. He’s offering me a choice, a release—something I’ve yearned for, but have been unable to voice. Even if I could, I’m not sure it would’ve mattered, as no one truly listens. I was screaming into a void, my pleas going unheard. Unanswered.

He heard me.

For that, I have given this man permission to own me—my body, my mind. If there’s anything to fear, it’s whether or not I can stop myself from giving him more. That once I give all of myself over, I’ll be lost to him.

And I’ll never want to be found again.

I’ve never been in the presence of anyone who knows exactly what they want and need, and knows just how to obtain it.

Chase has that power.

That’s the pull, the attraction. More than his physical beauty, which is an alluring aspect all of its own, it’s the appeal of giving over my doubt, my insecurity, to someone who can take control.

The loss of struggle and worry over my own existence liberates me to feel other things. Buried and ignored until this moment. I suppressed my own desires far below my conscience, and now they’re surfacing, rising at an alarming speed that almost frightens me.

He didn’t unlock the door; he tore it from the hinges.

This thought has me clinging to him. Taking his cock deeper into my mouth, craving the touch of his sure hands as he tightens his grip in my hair. Shivers race over my skin, tingling and sending a rush of adrenaline to my head. I’m almost woozy, as if I’m drunk on him.

Then, without warning, he pulls away, leaving me panting and aching. Worrying that I’ve done something wrong. This is a constant state of stress for me. The agonizing over having made some mistake that I’m unaware of—

“I’m not coming in your mouth,” he says, dousing the flames of my mind before they consume me. “Your mouth is so perfect, I’m going to enjoy filling it – but I’m going to fuck you first,” he says, a hint of promise in his deep voice that makes me quiver with anticipation “However, there’s the matter of trust to discuss before we go further. This won’t work at all without trust, Alexis. I need your compliance and trust as much as I need your body.”

That word:
trust
. Just hearing it tenses my insides, leaving a gaping emptiness where I was just—moments ago—sure I wouldn’t suffer that isolation with him.

“Trust doesn’t come easily for me,” I answer honestly. Speaking to him blindfolded alleviates the apprehension of seeing judgment in his eyes. It was difficult enough to admit I needed help for my brother. I don’t let others in easily, either. Especially to witness what causes me pain.

You believe you can trust someone with your secrets…until the moment they turn them against you. Use them to their own advantage. This is the truth as I know it. And despite my attraction to Chase, my yearning to disappear in his world that promises escape, the risk is far too great.

The feel of his strength closes in around me, his masculine scent invading my space as his arms enfold me. This tender touch is so acutely altered from his commanding nature, I stiffen against him. My body corded as tightly as his muscular arms enveloping me.

“Then pleasure first,” he says, his words a whisper-soft touch along my shoulder. “And trust will come. My wish is not to abuse you, Alexis. Understand that much. Breaking you of your confines and exposing you to desire you can’t comprehend just yet is my aim. And in doing so, yes, I’ll take pleasure. I’ll take tremendous pleasure in owning you.”

He runs his lips along my neck, his hot breath urging my chest to arch as he cups my breast, tenderly caressing and then twisting my nipple with a hard pull. His teeth nip at my skin, tiny bites that send a current of heat rushing through me.

“I want to trust you.” The breathy admission falls from my lips. It’s as much a confession, a surrendering of will, as it is a revelation.

He roams lower, his callused palms gaining friction over my skin, until he reaches my center. My body jerks at the sensation of his fingers seeking inside, the sudden jolt to my sensitive clit electrifying. My thighs ache to close, to wrap around him, but my position prevents me from doing so.

“There’s my greedy cunt,” he says against my ear. The ache deepens at the feel of his erection gouging into my thigh.

My shoulders roll back, curving my body toward his expert touch, as his other hand takes me from behind. He fills me then, and my muscles clench, my spread thighs triggering my walls to tighten as his thumb begins to circle my clit.

“Oh, god,” I breathe, unable to restrain the flurry of erotic sensations swimming over me. My head tosses back, and as he goes deeper, urging my body to give over to the pleasure, desire webs like liquid fire across my skin.

“That’s it, temptress. Let that greedy cunt milk my fingers.” He speeds his pace, encouraging my body to do just as he commands. I moan as a wave of arousal assaults me; the need for release so intense it’s painful. My body trembles against his arms.

His mouth surrounds my nipple, setting off a piercing sensation that travels to my core. And as his teeth tease the delicate skin, I lose all willpower to hold this pose on my own.

He releases my nipple, raising up to push deeper inside. My body braces and the urge to come hits hard. Warmth buzzes my skin as a deep ache swallows me.

His groan heightens my need, and I lose myself completely, latching onto his arm. “Your pussy is soaking,” he says, slowing his movements and earning a moan from me. “That needy little pussy just rained all over my carpet.” He removes himself from me and his hand goes to my hair, pulling my head back and tightening the blindfold. “Now I’m going to smell you all day long. Craving you as your scent torments me. Is that what you want?”

With a forceful thrust, he pushes me chest-first against the floor. “I demand to know, temptress,” he grates. “Are you trying to torment me? How does it make you feel knowing that I’m going to beat my dick off to the scent of your cunt?”

I can’t help it; his filthy words excite me, and I feel myself become wetter. “It turns me on,” I admit.

He releases another primal groan before his hands are tearing me from the floor. He clamps onto my thighs and back, lifting me easily against his chest. “Oh, I haven’t even begun to punish that sweet pussy,” he says, then the feel of the cool wall hits my back. “Do you crave release?”

My fingers dig into his back as he presses his cock against me. “Yes,” I say.

“Say it again,” he orders. “I need to hear the pleading in your voice. No relief comes until you make me believe it.”

The throb increases, as if his words are a physical punishment. “Fuck me. Please… It hurts—”

My plea is swallowed as he drives into me. His deep groan tears through me just as he pushes inside, spreading and filling me all at once. His tie falls away and our gazes lock as he holds himself there, his hands anchored to the backs of my thighs. I’m breathless, awaiting his next thrust.

“I’m going to fuck you until you call me Master.” He pulls out only to slam back inside. Then he’s taking me with unguarded thrusts, his muscles straining beneath my hands as I struggle for a grip.

My voice lost, I gasp at the air, only to drown in him once he takes my mouth. His tongue sweeps inside, forcefully caressing mine and claiming me from the inside out. He’s oxygen and flame, a violent combustion, searing and consuming. I’m just a ripple under his swell, the foam seeking connection after the destructive assault of the tidal wave.

But even as I’m hit with wave after wave, churning in the endless deep, I open my eyes. Look through the stormy blue to meet him there. His eyes pin me as his body brutally beckons pleasure from mine, and I’m helpless against the storm.

His thrusts intensify, his hands ravish my skin as he fucks me.

There’s no beautiful way to describe this exchange. Chase Larkin is fucking me. Hard and demanding. His hot breath blisters my skin as his mouth wanders over my shoulder, my neck, his tongue soothing each hurt he inflicts with his teeth, until he reaches my lips.

He devastates me with an intense kiss as he drives inside once more, and I moan against him, my own teeth catching his lip. A metallic taste touches my tongue before I feel his smile.

His tongue sweeps his bottom lip, tasting the hint of red. “Punishing is my job, temptress,” he says as his hand snakes around my ass, then his finger is pushing inside me, making me full, triggering my body to tighten around him.

My legs anchor to his hips just as he delivers another hard thrust, driving into me deep and claiming. For a terrifying second, I fear he’s about to stop—to punish me for biting him and deny me once again.

“Soak my fucking cock,” he demands, sinking his finger into me farther. I feel him become harder inside me with each penetrating plunge. “I’m going to fill your greedy little pussy…but first, I want to feel you come, temptress. Feel your cunt rain on my cock until I’m forced to fuck you hard—”

A cry breaks loose as my orgasm tears through me—a pulsing beat that builds into a fury of vibrations. Seeking and intense, discovering every erotic nerve in my body until I’m shuddering against him, my limbs too weak to cling. But his arms secure me to him, the wall and his body perfectly absorbing the impact against the detonating aftershocks rolling through me.

Heat nearly burns me where we connect, a friction of pleasurable pain, and as he groans deep and primal, his thrusts becoming more savage, he releases a harsh curse. “Say it,” he demands.

I know exactly what he wants. And in the instant our eyes meet, I know he needs it the way I needed to be taken by him tonight. I feel no shame when I utter the word; only desire. “Master.”

His hands circle my wrists, pushing them above my head and pinning my arms to the wall. His body, corded taut and all muscle, slams against mine with his powerful thrusts. My cries sound out in sync with his groans as he takes me over and over, owning my body, claiming me as his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his raspy words abrasive against my skin, then his mouth is on mine as he drives in deep.

I feel the moment he breaks; his cock engorged and stretching my walls, his tongue delving inside to take every last bit of me as he presses me into the wall. He continues to rock into me as his thrusts slow, his labored breathing sexy as he buries his face in my neck. When he pulls out, hot semen trails my thighs as my feet hit the floor.

I stand on wobbly legs, my skin and bones and muscles almost numb from exertion. But when he rests his cock on my belly, the feel of him hard and pulsing against me renews my craving for him.

“Put something on before I fuck you again,” he says, the severe gleam in his blue eyes backing up his demand. “And I won’t stop with just one hole this time, temptress.”

He pushes away from the wall, his cock still erect, his shadowed figure a beautiful, foreboding assurance of his avowal.

My gaze follows his long and sure strides as he moves toward his desk. He snatches his shirt and then walks back toward me. With lust still flickering in the depth of his deep blues, he slides his shirt around me, guiding my arms into the sleeves. His scent envelops me, and I almost beg him to take me…to make me feel how desperately he wants me.

But just as suddenly, exhaustion—my wreck of emotions and physical drain—overwhelms me, and I’m scooped up into his strong arms. I’m content to stay here, cradled within his embrace, but he soon sets me on the edge of the desk.

I watch as he leisurely dresses, sliding on his boxers and slacks, his suit jacket left open to reveal his toned abs and the hard, sexy slab of V peeking above his pants. He pulls out his phone and says, “Jefferson,” into the mouthpiece. “Get the car ready.”

I take in all this with a calm I shouldn’t possess—a calm that’s eluded me for years. Even as he again takes me into his arms, carrying me out of his office as if I’m his possession, dreadful awareness doesn’t hit until we’re passing the conference room.

“The party has long been over,” he assures, a hint of a smile on his face, flashing that slight dimple in his cheek. He peeks down at me. “Although I rather enjoy feeling you squirm. And the pretty blush on your face.”

That only intensifies the heat creeping up my neck. But I’m relieved no one will see my ass just hanging out in the open as he carries me toward the bank of elevators, and that relief depletes the last of my energy.

By the time we’re seated in his town car, his arms still locked around me and holding me securely against his chest, my eyes are closing. And as the car pulls away from the curb, I know I should ask many things: where are we going? Why are you holding me? What happens between us now?

Only I fall asleep as his fingers glide through my hair, assuaging any doubt and fear of the future away.