Derision: A Novel (8 page)

I crave this
.

I accused him of being sick…of getting some twisted fix…but it’s me who desires to be forced into submission—me who called out to him. Pleading to be dominated.

I’m the one who willed this man into my life.

I’m going to give you everything you begged of me.

As his words ring true, answering my beckoning cry, fiery currents sweep along my body. Blazing. Destructive. A fierce orgasm rips through me.

I scream. And scream. Over stimulated. Unable to lock on to any one point of origin as the orgasm detonates all over; a trail of devastation left in its wake as my body sags from the outpour.

He’s not slowing. Not stopping. Battering my insides with a vicious pounding that I’m suddenly afraid will break me…just as he promised. My mind tries to drift—tries to tunnel under the pressure…

“Stay with me,” he rasps, increasing his thrusts as if he’s a machine, bent on making me feel everything. “My fuck toy doesn’t get off that easy.”

He releases my breasts only to grab my hair, forcing me flat against the table. His other hand lifts up on my mound, kicking my ass up toward him as he rams inside, harder and harder, my screams barely masking his groans.

Soon, the pain builds into another all-consuming pressure that has me cringing against the cold steel table, my skin aflame and muscles straining. I ache…everywhere. But the pulse of his cock matches the rhythm of my racing heart, and when he drives in a final time, I shatter. I’m so wet he slicks against me as he bears down to keep inside, his own release thrumming deep and hot within me, shooting electric currents through my back.

I’m lost. So lost. All I can do is feel and breathe through the aftershocks as he pulls out of me and scoops my languid body into his arms. Arms that are still strong despite having worked so hard, like his chest that cradles me securely, as he walks us toward the bedroom.

He lays me down on the cool sheets, his heat pouring off him and covering me from above as he hovers. His eyes meet mine, and I swear I glimpse a flicker of fear behind the hard mask. Just a second to see beneath…and then it’s gone. His mouth firm as he drags a hand down my body.

“I can’t let you go now,” he says, his voice resolute.

It’s right on the tip of my tongue. My avowal to never want to be released.

But he steals that, too. His mouth dips down, his lips sealing over mine. Our tongues mingle and taste, slowly, tenderly, so in conflict with his demanding, controlling nature. I moan into the kiss, irrevocably sated.

When he pulls away, a beautiful smile curves his lips. “I fear I’m going to break my word.” His gaze flits over my face, inspecting the furrow of my brow. He brushes his fingers across my skin, smoothing away the crease. “I told you I’d give back what I take, but I fear that’s impossible now, Alexis. I simply can’t stop myself from taking.”

Though I should be alarmed, his confession sends a tingling thrill coursing through my blood. He’s there too now—coursing along my veins, speeding my pulse. Traveling right to that pumping organ his touch threatens to combust.

“So,” he says, seating himself between my thighs. “You best confess what you need from me, before I completely devour you.”

There’s no tease in his tone. The seriousness in his blue eyes urges his sincerity, and his weight bearing down on me enforces his intent. I’m almost afraid to speak, shocked that he plans to fuck me again.

Am I not broken?

Am I not a puddle of submissive goo beneath him?

The heated look in his pale gaze answers my unspoken questions. I haven’t even begun to feel the extent of what this man is capable of.

I lick my lips, watching the way his gaze follows the path of my tongue. Predatory. “What if I don’t know?” I admit.

He raises his eyebrows, forcing his eyes back to mine. “Everybody wants something.”

I don’t have any friends. My parents are dead. The rest of my family distant and estranged. All I have is my job and the worry over my brother. There are so many…
too
many things I don’t have that I don’t even know where to begin to long for them. Besides, anything and everything can be taken away. Stolen in the blink of an eye.

While it’s true that everybody wants something in this world…it’s also true that once obtained, there’s a constant fear of losing it.

I raise my chin, employing confidence I don’t feel. “I reserve the right to answer at a later date.”

A true smile breaks across his face, his burst of laughter unfurling a flight of pleasurable shivers within me. I almost amend my answer, stating that what I want is to see
that
—being the only recipient of his heart-melting smile, instead of the one he flashes too often. The sultry, panty-dropping smile he uses to reel in prey.

I bite down on my tongue, preventing myself from exposing what I have no doubt he’ll see as a weakness.

“Still fighting for a promotion, I see.” His smile is gone, but the silver gleam still lights his blue gaze. “I admit, I don’t like surprises. Nor do I like not knowing the stakes.” Something flashes in his narrowed gaze before he inhales deeply. “But as I’m unable to get enough of your sweet pussy…” He rocks into me then, eliciting a soft cry from me. “I’m at a disadvantage.”

I’ve nearly forgotten about the plug until he’s filling me, increasing the pressure in my channel as my hands push against his chest.

When I open my eyes again, as the pain ebbs and pleasure sweeps in, his slow and steady thrusts not as intense—but just as demanding—I see the primal need strike like steel meeting flint in his gaze. That spark of desire to annihilate me.

Lowering himself, he presses me into the mattress, driving inside me deeply, as he whispers against my ear, “But be warned, temptress. A disadvantage doesn’t deter me. I’m not to be fucked with.”

I
stand
before the bathroom mirror, flipping a silver makeup compact over in my hand. My guest bathroom that has never been used is littered with feminine touches, suddenly making it look very lived in.

It’s at my request, of course, that Jefferson fill it with every assortment that Alexis might need, but that doesn’t stop the irrational frustration at having my sanctuary invaded.

Control and routine. Routine and control. They go hand in hand, and are the foundation of my life. It was my budding law practice that, years ago, became the base of what Lark and Gannet is today.

My ideas. My routines. My connections.

Mike Gannet offered a flare for marketing and a delicate finesse with the clientele that I didn’t possess, which made him a necessary asset. Otherwise, I hate change. Each partner henceforth was hand selected by me, because I deemed them worthy as they offered some valuable benefit for the practice.

And, they had a similar foundation. A belief system that afforded them an invitation into
The Firm
—an association of the most elite, a membership, if you will, of likeminded, powerful men who like to play and still keep their reputations in tact.

Politicians. Judges. CEOs. Too many great men have been brought down by their pricks. The Firm gives men with means—
lots
of means—a lucrative way to fulfill their needs without the fear of exposure.

Truthfully, Lark and Gannet makes money—but it doesn’t accrue the kind of wealth that The Firm rakes in.

I built my enterprise one client at a time, safely and securely, into the staple that it is now—and I’ve done so with an idealism and routine that was never questioned. Never challenged.

Until now.

I hate change.

I toss the compact to the counter and look up when Alexis’s reflection appears in the mirror.

My breath stalls in my chest. The elegant black dress hugs her curves as if it was painted on; the silky material stopping right above her knee and revealing her sexy thigh with a long slit that travels all the way back up. The thick straps at top cross over her breasts, wrapping her shoulders.

It was a battle between us; me desiring her to adorn the sheer dress from earlier, and her negotiating for this one now.

As much as I’m loath to admit it, the battle was well worth these results. “Turn around,” I say as I stalk toward her.

With obvious reluctance, she does as told, spinning around as I come up behind her. The open back of the dress frames her sides, leaving her back completely bare. I close in, pressing my palm between her shoulder blades and drag it all the way to where the backside just covers the top of her ass.

I suddenly regret announcing that I’ll be bringing her tonight. Rather, I’m more than tempted to feel the delicate material tear beneath my hands as I shred it from her body.

Still, the desire to see her reaction to The Firm outweighs my carnal instincts.

I press a kiss to the nape of her neck, and am rewarded with her shiver as I sweep my hand around her front and caress her through the silk dress. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

Tonight, Jefferson pulls my personal limo up to the front door as I exit. I rest my hand at the small of Alexis’s back, guiding her just ahead of me toward the sleek, stretched car. I insist she sit across from me rather than too near, because I know my hands will find their way beneath that dress, then there will be no stopping.

Tugging at the knot in my tie, I suppress the urge. “Are you nervous?”

Her legs are crossed, her back ramrod against the seat. She’s been alternating laying her hands in her lap and fidgeting with the straps of the dress. I smile when she settles her hands in her lap again.

“You know I am,” she says, her gaze meeting mine for the first time since we entered the car. “And I feel agitated without my phone.”

Though I’m truly indulging in her anxiousness by keeping her in the dark, there’s a niggle of unease at her admission. I sigh and bring out the phone in question. “Put your concern over your brother out of you mind. I assure you, if you’re needed, I’ll let you know.”

She looks down then, averting her gaze. “Thank you.”

I slip her phone back into my pocket. Although I’d have never advanced her if I felt she couldn’t be trusted, I provide the best services for my clients because I’m cautious. Having her phone in her possession will only distract her from feeling the intense anticipation of the unknown, and I can’t chance she’ll record anything. Besides, she has no messages. Her brother hasn’t contacted her in over six months.

I’m not sure informing her of exactly what his condition is will alleviate her worry, however. Last time I received an update, Jake Wilde had just been released from jail on his own recognizance after a stint in D.C. corrections for a simple possession charge. It’s a misdemeanor, but it’s his third one.

Which is curiously interesting, considering his sister is a paralegal who works with top-notch lawyers. You’d think she’d be his first call. There was some falling out between them years ago, which I had assumed was due to his blowing through his inheritance that was split between them after the death of their parents.

Later, there were deposits into his account from Alexis as her brother then blew right through her half of the insurance money.

But knowing what I know about the woman sitting across from me, I doubt that dissuaded her compassion for the junkie. Once her assets went dry, unable to send him any more money, he cut off communication with her.

I don’t know why I’m wondering about it now, other than the possibility that her brother could prove to be a distraction for her. A variable which may need further investigation on how to be remedied should that happen.

The limo pulls to a stop before the hotel, and Alexis appears less tense. I hide my smirk, letting her feel the relief of not being subjected to some tawdry sex club, as I suspect she assumed.

Jefferson opens the door for us and I exit first, offering her my hand. “You were expecting something different?”

As she accepts my hand to stand beside me, she nods. “I don’t know, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

The Skylark boasts eight floors in the heart of downtown Arlington. All sleek reflective glass and steel, the elegant building absorbs the city lights, casting the city’s shimmery reflection back at itself.

It was a risky investment at the time I acquired it and began the renovation—the biggest risk I’ve ever been persuaded to take—but the hotel is now the flagship of one of three Hotel Skylarks. The other two located in more prime locations, such as D.C. and New York City.

“I’m glad you’re impressed. Walk behind me at all times,” I instruct as I straighten my suit jacket and head toward the revolving door. Jefferson waits until we’ve entered the hotel before he parks, where he’ll wait to be notified.

The desk concierge nods to me as I stroll through the lobby, the scent of fresh gardenias in the air. I give him a curt nod to let him know I’m here on business, not a random inspection. The hard lines in his weathered face smooth some at this, and I head toward the bank of elevators.

Once we’re inside, Alexis settles against the wall of the steel car as I push a key in above the keypad. After I enter my four-digit code, the elevator begins its ascent to the penthouse.

“The top floor?”

My shoulders tense at her outburst. “Did I give you permission to ask a question?” I face her, my expression resolute. We haven’t had any official training, and I need her compliant. She’s the first sub I’ve ever taken on, and the partners will be studying us—studying
me
. Looking for a crack, a weakness to exploit.

As soon as I smoke out the offender, I’ll let him hang himself with his own noose—then make an example out of him. Until then, none of them can be given the impression that I’ve become weak.

Hostile takeovers happen with far less gain for the offerer, and as I have yet to be approached by one of the partners, I’m sure this is a hostile attempt to acquire control over The Firm. Which is far more profitable than acquiring majority shares of Lark and Gannet.

I doubt the weasel has weighed the risks, however. If any of the clients get a whiff of a takeover, they’ll enforce they’re out clause. It’s a safeguard I set up that ensures their privacy, as well as mine, in the event any threat of exposure is made. But before it comes to that, I prefer to handle this matter myself, instead of risking a forced shutdown.

My temples ache, the pressure creeping in. I hold Alexis’s gaze and she soon bows her head. I pull out the blindfold from my pocket. “Come here.”

As she moves closer, I turn her around and slip the black satin mask over her head. “This is for theatrics, showing you as being welcomed in. Purely decoration.” Her fingers trace the slits over her eyes that allow her to see.

“May I ask a question?”

The tension wrapping my muscles eases some. “Yes.”

“Do I need a password? And why the top floor?”

Two
questions, but I don’t reprimand.
Semantics
. “No passwords required,” I say, facing the doors as the car approaches its stop. “This is an exclusive members only association. If you’re here, you’ve been invited. And no dark dungeons located in some secluded mansion basement. It’s not like the movies, so you can wipe away any preconceived notions and simply obey my orders.” I look at her. “That’s of utmost importance. Your objective is to please me tonight, and you’ll succeed only by following all orders without question.”

Her body trembles. I hook a finger under her chin and pull her gaze to mine. “Trust, Alexis. I won’t demand anything of you that I feel you’re not ready for.”

Her eyes keep mine through the openings of the blindfold, then I break our connection as the doors open. “Always walk behind me,” I remind her.

There is always a beginning and an end. To everything. But unlike history denotes, marking the moment of change, the impact, it’s the length of time between the two points that’s significant.

As I enter the penthouse, the comforting sense engulfing me, I’m reluctant to reach the end any time soon. It’s more than despising change; it’s reveling in my creation.

I built this floor with precise specs. With the initial play party in mind, majority of the room is an open floor plan with thick gray pillars running floor to ceiling. There are sections for different fetishes or themed play, sheer black curtains draped between sitting areas for voyeurs. The floor is lacquered gray cement. Rough but elegant, complimenting the red and dark gray walls.

The entire ceiling is covered with woven steel rafters. All the sleek, black-patent leather furniture hung from chains. Each section promotes its own theme: St. Andrew’s crosses in some, benches with restraints in others, Shibari in the next with adorning ropes streaming from the rafters.

I only get a few steps inside, the dimly lit room flickering with candlelight beckoning me home, before I turn to scrutinize Alexis. Her soft green eyes are wide behind the mask, her hands gripping the hem of her dress.

I face her and raise my eyebrows, prompting her. “Speak.”

“You said no dungeons…”

A smile twists my mouth. “Well, maybe not in the traditional sense. This is much more than a typical dungeon.” I offer her my arm. She only hesitates a moment before accepting the lifeline.

As I lead her around the penthouse, I’m greeted by the members. Men of station, of wealth, of great power. Being near D.C., the epicenter for the influential, makes The Firm a convenient place to funnel all the dirt through. And there are some dirty players here tonight. I shake hands with a congressman, noting the recognition in Alexis’s eyes.

This is where the danger for her comes in.

I’m bringing her into my world, where my protection—my possession of her—is most required. I hold her closer, staking my claim so there is no question who she belongs to.

I guide her through the scenes, allowing her to absorb each one and become accustomed. Though I know for most a first time experience is overwhelming. And I’m not positive I desire for her to become accustomed.

There was no shock for me. I am who I am. I simply designed my ideal sanctuary based on my own yearnings. And what I crave now is Alexis.

Witnessing the astonishment in her eyes, the way her breath catches when a flogger meets its target with a loud
crack
, is like experiencing it for the very first time myself. A treat I never truly felt. I’m enraptured by her hesitant but curious nature. The way she avoids everyone’s eyes, her hands clinging to my bicep.

“Come on,” I say, taking her away from the current scene and toward the only private section. “Time to introduce you to your subordinates.”

She’s aware of who these men are, her bosses—but she hasn’t been introduced to the real men. The four corners that make up The Firm.

Pulling back the curtain, I enter first, allowing Alexis to follow closely behind. This area is reserved for the partners and their subs, which Alexis is now considered.

“Alexis, you’re acquainted with Mike Gannet, Caleb Mason, and Price Wells.”

She keeps her head bowed, the way I coached her.

“It’s lovely to officially meet you, Alexis.” This from Gannet, who assesses me carefully. “I’m surprised you’ve brought her here this soon. Does that mean she’s ready?”

I feel Alexis stiffen beside me, her apprehension rolling through her to me. Not that I’m at all effected by their tactics, or worried she’s not ready. I know she’ll be as compliant and willing as the first day I laid eyes on her.

This is something entirely different for me; a connection I don’t normally feel. Ever.

And it’s intoxicating.

I grasp her wrist, bringing her before me. “It’s time for your induction.”