Taming the Alter Ego (2 page)

Spreading my thighs offered a little relief, as if I had tricked my body into an expectation of wanton action.

It was far from enough. The arrival of the lunch hour made it even less likely that I would be disturbed, but I still expected someone to leap from the shadows. The nondescript, beige office remained unchanged. The fittings, immobile in their usual place, hid no spies.

My thighs moved as if not under my control, spreading apart until my skirt restricted it, revealing a sliver of the lace that topped my glossy black stockings. Adorning my lengthy pins with tights would have the same effect on the ensemble, but I preferred the delicate silken touch of stockings on my skin while secretly paying homage to my alter ego.

Gazing at my restless fingers atop the keyboard, flawless black fingernails glinting in the light, deliberation lasted mere seconds. With an eye on the door, I smoothed my palms over the skirt’s material as if inspecting it, fingering the hem on finding an empty corridor.

Tracing my finger over the swirled design of the lace stocking tops beyond, knowing I could be caught in the forbidden act increased the thrill and quickened my heartbeat.

Picturing Tom slip them off pushed me over the edge, making me pull up the skirt entirely, revealing the rich brown of my skin beyond.

The clandestine exposure of my black lace thong allowed me to spread my thighs enough to use the seat of my chair as makeshift sex-aid, relishing the supple leather against my skin. Tilting my pelvis pushed my breasts forward, directed at the screen as if they wanted attention. Clinging to the edge of the desk, my nails audibly scraped wood as I demanded a service the chair didn’t offer.

The pressure of need built inside me, strong enough to force my teeth to my lower lip. Pressing my fingertips to my impatient pussy gave me a delicious thrill. The slightest touch to my aroused bud enough to make me sharply draw breath as bliss closed in.

Vague noises drifted from neighboring offices, too quiet to create a reason to stop. The moist scent of my body rising to my nostrils dissolved any doubts before they arose.

Slipping beneath the waistband of my underwear, my skin prickled like my fingertips were ablaze, searing a path to my pulsating clit, brazenly awaiting the wanted approach.

The faint ring of a telephone reached my ear, the first time in several years at the office. My sudden acute hearing made my heart pound as if the phone was a warning of imminent discovery. My gaze drifted to the doorway, poised to avoid getting caught with my fingers in the honey jar.

An intense quiver rippled through me the moment my fingers connected with my eager clit, shaking a moan from my lips as my eyes fluttered closed. Thoughts of discovery faded from my mind as slivers of heat crept up and seized my entire midsection. Sinking deep and spreading wide, the sensation permeated my flesh and bones in a sensation of deep gratification.

The nerve endings of my engorged bud crackled with heat as my muscles contracted, desperate to grip something between their walls. Signs of my body’s need continued, traveling around to make my rear passage clench.

Slipping into the slick groove between my folds, I writhed against my probing fingers, rushing headlong into a pit of bliss. Pressing my toes to the worn carpet, my heels slipped out of my black leather court shoes, the slender three-inch posts landing with a dull thud. The sound provided a single beat for the chorus of creaking leather from my shoes and the seat of my chair, seeming to complain of its struggle to hold me.

The caress of two fingers and the movement of my hips took me away, forgetting my location as I succumbed to the rippling sensations that made me sweat.

Moving my fingertips down through the slick cleft, I closed on my opening, making a quiver run through me with the slightest touch. The sharp gasp that jumped from my throat was unexpected. I laughed at the surprise I caused myself. A heavy shudder immediately followed as my fingers returned to my clit, satisfying its demand for attention.

Heat coursed through me like water from a high-pressure hose, bodily lifting me from my seat as I slammed my heels back to the carpet. Gripping the desk with my free hand, my damp palm prevented the chair from straying on the castors.

Taut muscles held my pose, which was not uncomfortable despite feeling unnatural.

Dropping back into the chair triggered the explosion, sending the chair rolling backwards as the ultimate peak of bliss slammed into me like a sonic blast. Reverberations undulating through me forced to bite my lip, preventing a cry escaping as the booming waves drew from my strength and left me spent. Still, a murmur drifted from my depths, the only sign of the orgasm that rocked me.

Warm moisture coated my fingers, stroked in a trail along my engorged labia as I withdrew them from the confines of my underwear. A faint guilty feeling swept over me, disappearing as quickly as it came as I curved my hand over my sheathed pussy. The pressure sent a quiver up my spine, seeming to feel the pulsation that drummed a beat through my body.

Perched on the edge of the seat, I found myself in danger of falling off as my body slowly revived from an exquisite climax. My frame slackened, leaving me just enough strength to lazily shuffle back into the seat and push my feet into my shoes.

Stifling heat kept me breathing heavily, somehow adding to my self-consciousness.

Raising my bowed head, I checked the doorway under the guise of stretching and took a deep breath of relief on seeing it empty. Disguising my satisfied smile and labored breathing, I dipped down behind my glowing screen and hoped no one would enter. Recovery came as I delighted in the damp heat of my juices seeping through the lace gusset.

Hearing footsteps, I hurriedly tucked my knees beneath the desk, feigning a blank mind by way of a blank expression. The sound dissolved without a soul having passed my door, making me giggle and looking down at my thighs beneath my hiked skirt.

An idea formed as I released my sated flesh to grip the armrest, tipping my pelvis to press down on the warmed leather. The sparks that crackled through me made continue to rock, feeling like I could pleasure myself all over again.

The ring of the telephone seemed unusually loud and jarring, shattering my concentration with the first note of its shrill alarm and dragging me back to reality. “Hello.”

“Mari? You all right?”

Straightening in my seat and clearing my throat, I reassured my friend and colleague from three floors up. “Yes, sure.” Blinking rapidly, I attempted to banish the swirling orgasmic haze with the strength of my will.

“Okay, you sounded a bit strange.”

Faking amusement with a half-hearted chuckle, I struggled to pull down my skirt with the receiver still in hand, like she could see me through it. “No, I’m fine.”

“Good. Want to go to lunch?”

“Er, yes. I’ve got one quick thing to do first, though. Meet you at reception in two minutes?”

“All right, see you soon.”

The vague admission of an apparent chore validated my notion, preventing me from changing my mind about going through with it.

Fixing my gaze on the door, I lifted enough to drag the scrap of material out from beneath me, using the table as a support and shield. The black lace, damp and fragrant, glided smoothly down my thighs before protesting by hitching at my knees so I had to guide them down to my ankles.

Balling the underwear in my fist, sweat beads tingled on my forehead.

I pulled my shirt away from where it damply clung to my back. Examining my hand, satisfied that the garment couldn’t be seen, I kept it by my side during a short walk that seemed an epic trek.

Smoothing down my skirt, I stood and fought my trembling legs to march to the door. An adrenalin rush made everything vivid. My heart pounded audibly as I rapidly walked along the corridor.

The rich, sweet scent of my own body filled my head, making me sure that it trailed behind me like
eau de parfum
freshly applied to the warm skin of a soft neck.

Avoiding detection, I entered Tom’s office without hesitation and gently pushed the door closed behind me. As I made a beeline for his fastidiously arranged desk, the knickers seeming to swell in my hand, pulsing as if they had taken on a life of their own.

Chaotically full of office equipment, the top left drawer was rejected.

The few stationary items in the right counterpart made it the chosen one.

Tucking them into the back of the drawer, the knickers would only be found when he fully pulled it open. Imagining his reaction made a frisson of excitement trip down my spine as I pushed the drawer closed with a gentle clap.Only arriving at the door—a final chance to change my mind—I questioned whether I could really be so bold. For Lady Isis, it was a tame act, but this was me and I was at work. Gripping the door handle, I looked back at his dark-wood desk, picturing myself sitting knickerless in his chair, rocking my hips back and forth as if marking my territory.

Of course I’m brave enough
, I thought.

Back in my office, my senses were assaulted by an atmosphere infused by sex. Switching my PC to standby, I slipped my mobile into my bag before throwing it over my shoulder.

My smile remained as I headed for the stairs, walking quickly as if fleeing the scene of a crime. I took a deep breath as an intense satisfaction settled in my chest. My plan of seduction had begun and I would only be satisfied when I knew that it worked and he craved me.

“Miss Haley, may I have a word?”

The unquestioning respect was almost as thrilling as Tom addressing me directly, which caused a distinctive warmth to spread through my chest.

I still noticed he only seemed able to hold my gaze for a short time. The almost imperceptible flicker of his eyes excited me, making my pussy pulsate.

I knew there would be no negative comeback for my daring act. His amazing timidity was unlike most of
Management
, so full of bluster. Tom was the quiet type, not needing overblown actions to demonstrate his authority.

I searched his face for a sign of the discovery, curiosity building from the previous day. Nicholas had called around three o’ clock, by which time I had already guessed their lunch would be an extended one. Fortunately, he was too inebriated to read anything into me questioning whether Tom would also not return. I was disappointed, knowing the chance to discover whether alcohol would loosen his tongue and bolster his courage was lost.

After several trips past my door, Tom entered with me in his sights rather than Nicholas. Nerves were immediately evident, a cough concluding the question uttered in his rich deep tone.

“Of course.” My reply, like my directed gaze, exhibited composure, displaying no sign of my suddenly increased heart rate. “Please call me Mariella.”

“Thanks—Mariella.”

I could barely contain my elation at hearing him say my name for the first time, forcing me to knit my tingling fingers together beneath the desk.

Willing him to find a reason to repeat it, I appeared effortlessly composed as I waited for him to continue.

Slipping his hands into his trouser pockets, my gaze briefly drew to his crotch. “You’re probably aware I’m yet to find an assistant.”

I nodded somberly, as if concerned by his serious problem.

“Interviews are on-going,” he offered, like I’d requested elaboration.

Saying nothing, I continued to hold him with a steady gaze, patiently awaiting the conclusion of our maiden conversation.

“In the meantime, I’d appreciate your help.”

Sweet satisfaction immediately surged through my insides, rushing past my heart like it was a rock in the middle of a rapid river but showing no sign.

“Nicholas speaks very highly of you,” he added, before I could reply.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t find it too difficult.”

I wanted to laugh—his attempt to butter me up so careful and yet so unnecessary. “I like to think I do my job well and I’m glad to have that recognized.”

He paused as did I, making him wait after a response that offered nothing.

His gaze flickered impatiently to my lips, earning him a slight smile, which made his lashes tremble with a rapid blink. “You would, of course, get paid overtime,” he hurriedly added.

Letting my smile widen a little, I ignored the heat that licked my nipples in their desire for attention, before finally offering a response, “I’d be happy to help.”

He smiled—oh, my word, that smile—which lightened his already handsome face and made his dark eyes gleam. My heart swelled as I fought the desire to kiss it from his face. “Thank you, Mariella.”

My passage walls contracted as I smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, Tom.”

Watching him walk away, I imagined him enjoying hearing his name on my tongue. He caught my smile when he glanced back.

The distinct scent of cigars met my nostrils, mingled with the aftershave that usually trailed behind him. The pungent aroma was unexpected, but I liked it as it suited him.

Elation almost caused me to laugh aloud, making it necessary to bite my lip. Of course, it was possible he was setting me up for a rebuke, arranging a meeting with human resources for disciplinary action, but I doubted it.

Licking my lips in anticipation—wanting to do the same to his—I could barely wait for the end of the day. The remaining hour and a half seemed a lifetime.

I briefly contemplated whether I should have reacted differently. Made him work harder by playing hard to get, but the regret was fleeting. Nothing could surpass the pure delight resulting from the seemingly insignificant conversation with the near stranger.

A period of clock watching made me realize he had made his request late in the day, causing speculation on why he hadn’t asked earlier. I fancied he was intimidated by me, unsure of how to make an approach and practicing what to say.

If I were being nice, I would have reassured him with a compliment, but I had no intention of being nice. Kindness was unnecessary to seduce him when I could demand what I wanted. And he would find out I was the demanding type.