Taming the Alter Ego (4 page)

Thrusting me forward for the last time, Tom held me against the desk’s edge with the power of his body, squeezing the last breath from my body in a jagged cry that outshone his.

I relished the sensation of him quivering against my rump, heightening every ripple of pleasure that left sweat prickling my hot skin. Remaining pressed against me for several long moments, he seemed not to want to let go, the rhythm of his rocking motion aligned with his deep breaths. Finally, he moved only enough to allow me to straighten, loosening a trickle of moisture from where it had pooled in my vulva. Stepping back as I turned around, he let me lean against the table to aid my trembling legs.

I wanted to tease him, ask how long he waited for the pleasure of my body, how his desperation manifested itself. Instead, I only smiled at his satisfied expression and moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue.

Exhaling deeply, the breath tailed off with my name, whispered over my own gulps, otherwise silent as we looked into each other’s eyes. Seeing his body sway toward me, I stood before he could pin me, stepping aside and trailing my fingers across his jaw. Tom moved with me as if my touch had the power to draw him. He made a beeline for my mouth, which I allowed because I wouldn’t have to admit he had a similar hold over me.

Melting beneath the pleasure of his mouth, I forced myself to pull away, fixing my clothes as I headed to the door.

“Don’t you want your underwear back?” His voice followed me, a last desperate attempt to keep me there.

At the door, I turned back to offer a knowing smile. “I trust you.”

Opening the door, I held his gaze as I slipped through the opening. “I think we can trust each other.”

His sweet smile imprinted on my brain as I closed his door behind me, the hallway a complete change of atmosphere, cooler and unscented by sex and sweat.

Relief came with the danger of getting caught, the arousing aroma of my body a telltale sign for an easy guess. Fortunately, I arrived back at my office without encountering anyone, beaming with satisfaction once I was safely ensconced. Lurching toward my chair, my legs pleasurably weak, I checked my clothes again, tucking my fingers into my waistband. No one who entered my office at that moment would be aware of a thing—I was a consummate actress. Only Tom had the ability to make my mask slip. I knew he’d be good, but the experience was so much sweeter than the mere knowledge.

After pervading my dreams, Tom remained on my mind when I woke.

They energized me, creating a woman eager to get to work and resume my command over my new favorite captive. In the shower, my hands were his, smoothly stroking every secret curve and crevice that could drive me wild.As gratifying as our illicit encounter had been, I still wanted more.

Though I wouldn’t change it for the world, my only regret was not getting him naked. I wanted all of him, vulnerable and ready. On his desk. In his office so that he would recall it every time he was working My yearning for him caused a dilemma. Revealing my other self was something I vowed never to do. I could only imagine the fallout, which would continue to reverberate even if I lost my job. However, an awareness of the consequences couldn’t stop me desperately wanting Tom and Lady Isis to meet.

I went back and forth over the predicament as I prepared for work with Tom in mind. Now I had his attention, I wasn’t prepared to lose it.

My decision came with a restless feeling akin to having too much caffeine, calm only returning when Nicholas left for a morning meeting, freeing me to send an email without risking discovery.

I sent Tom an email as Lady Isis from her dedicated account, using a standard format I used when introducing the services of the brazen Dom.

Though the missive contained no trace of his efficient colleague, Mariella Haley, there was still a risk it could be traced back. It was worth taking.

My lungs inflated with a deep breath as it disappeared, the inability to change my mind causing relief and excitement. He could guess, in fact, I’m sure he would work it out. Maybe I wanted a secret only Tom and I shared.

Throughout the day, I expected him to pass my door and looked up each time I detected movement. However, I was left disappointed every time.

Finally, the workday’s end arrived.

Through the glass panel of his door, I found Tom hunched over his desk, looking like a man consumed by troubled thoughts. I wanted to hold him in an embrace that restricted his breathing. Sure that I was the cause of his anxiety, the knowledge gave me a smug sense of self-satisfaction, merging with my need to comfort him.

While the door opening made him look up, my presence made him immediately stand in greeting, a bright smile replacing the lines of worry.

“I thought you might require more assistance,” I declared, holding his gaze and softly guiding the door closed.

Work could have been my motive—especially as we did nothing the previous day—but the look on Tom’s face confirmed he was far from fooled by my pretence.

He dutifully came to me when I remained with my back to the door, his smile growing with every step. “I thought I may have overstepped the mark,” he admitted, with a sigh. “Or maybe you just wouldn’t want to see me.”Silently relishing his anguish, I hid any sign of the anxiety I’d suffered over whether he’d been intentionally trying to avoid me. Satisfied that I had been on his mind, immense pleasure radiated from me like heat from a ball of fire blazing somewhere within.

Drawing him closer with a penetrating stare, I beckoned him into a warm embrace.

I breathed in his scent—slightly sweet without any cigars—as he did to me, bathing my neck in a warm exhale as he nuzzled my skin. A blissful moan escaped my lips before I knew it was coming, sidling past while my attention was occupied.

After drifting down to my hips, his hands slid around the small of my back, shifting my top so it twisted around my middle as he took over the supportive role of the door.

I thrust my hand between our bodies, swiping his jacket aside as my fingers eagerly sought his crotch, needing to retain the advantage. Clenching his entire bulge made him emit a sharp hiss before he nipped my neck, following the bearable pinch with murmured speech.

Muffled and low, I failed to hear his words completely. Not that I needed to know as the charged atmosphere could drive us, but Tom was determined to continue, “I was desperate to see you.”

“You can’t have been that desperate,” I replied, slightly scornfully.

“You stayed in here.”

The intense look he held me with turned sheepish before he nuzzled my neck, hiding his face from my eyes. “I didn’t know how you felt.”

My heart swelled at the admission, confirmation he was lost in me.

“Are you blaming me?” I queried gently.

Initially, he seemed too occupied with my neck to reply, taking several seconds to respond with a muffled
no
as his wet kisses continued.

Through his murmuring and my heavy breaths, I heard footsteps pass the door I stood flattened against, which prompted the hint of wickedness that always lay dormant in me. This time, it manifested itself in a need to goad him with the idea of getting caught, despite the risk being just as great for me.

Tom took charge before I had a chance to put my taunt into words, pushing his hand up the pencil skirt that hugged my hips. Like a heat-seeking missile, he quickly found his target like the garment wasn’t there.

Pressing two fingertips to the full bud at the pinnacle of my cleft, he rubbed through the satin of my briefs with a light touch. Seeming to, literally, scratch an itch, the smooth up and down motion seemed too simple, too gentle. But I couldn’t deny my body’s reaction, jolting forward as my muscles became taut, giving way to a deep quiver.

Seeing his smug smile stopped me falling too deep, working to stop the trembling of my legs. Lips parted with ragged breaths that scraped my throat, I fixed my eyes on his defiantly as I sought power again. One strong thrust of my hand was all that was necessary to return to his genitals, tightly clasping his straining swell with a claw-like grip.

His wince delighted me, prompting a sound from my own throat, somewhere between a sigh and a shrill note.

We almost mirrored each other—fixed gazes, lips parted, hands buried in each other’s groins. Even our ragged breaths fell in line, nothing but the deep, even rush of air heard during our brief standoff.

Seeing his pupils dilate before me, I wondered whether my eyes were playing tricks on me. His crooked smile, however, was unmistakable, making my pussy contract as I read what lay behind his intoxicated expression.

Simultaneously, our hands shifted like a starter pistol had gone off, racing to take charge of the battle. His fingers disappeared into the confines of my panties before I could gain proper purchase of his zip between thumb and forefinger. When I finally took hold, the pads of his fingers were vibrating against my clit, instantly stimulating and releasing flares.

Sliding over the slick bud, he plunged his eager digits deep between my plump folds, making me emit a whimpering gasp, rolling my head back against the door. His lightening swift action left me struggling with the simple act of loosening his clothing. The sensation pouring through me made my limbs tremblingly weak.

Despite the sting of the superficial scratch from scraping my hand against the teeth of his zip, I frantically clawed at his underwear to find a way inside as time seemed to lengthen.

My muscles stiffened as an intermittent knocking met my ear and made me freeze, holding my breath as I imagined someone at the door. My stationary pose was momentary, realizing that my own quivering leg caused the sound, my heel tapping the floor.

Forcing my foot down, I finally made contact with his warm skin, resuming the race to climax. Coiling my fingers around the base of his shaft, it was impossible to maintain eye contact as my lids fluttered shut, relishing the solid slab of flesh, hairs tickling as I gripped harder.

A breathy growl escaped him as I reached further, fingertips caressing the delicate spot behind his weighty sac. His breath rushed across my neck in a heavy current, my increasing pressure to his perineum prompting him to thrust his fingers deeper.

I responded in kind, returning my fingers to his shaft to encircle the base of his girth. We stared at each other fiercely, part of the sexual clash in which we were locked.

Contracting muscles gripped his first and middle fingers as he pushed them between my engorged labia, coating his skin with my moisture with each slow stroke. His skilled digits felt impossibly thick and long, reaching the trigger point deep within me that threatened to send me over the edge.

Retaliation came in the form of a tightened grip, clasped around his taut flesh as I rubbed back and forth. Baring his gritted teeth, his eyes flashed before he broke our stare with a heavy blink, an effect of my fierce physical manipulation.

I briefly wondered about my own countenance, only recognizing a gaping mouth, releasing each deep breath squeezed from my lungs.

Tom pressed his thumb to my clit. A streak of heat shot through me like a bolt of lightening, making it impossible to maintain control. My eyes fluttered closed as a high-pitched cry sprung from my throat. The bliss he created churned through my core, swirling and spreading through every part of me.

Seeming to get the upper hand, he pounded his digits deep, pressing his thumb to my clit to get more of the same. Through the coursing river of searing ecstasy, I still needed more from him and tightened my grip of his shaft, pressing the pad of my thumb to the ridge on the underside of his swollen flesh. His deep, rumble of a growl was my prize, vocal confirmation of my power over him.

His normally slim lips felt swollen as his kiss flattened me to the door, emphasizing his feelings. The moan Tom released into my mouth couldn’t be hidden, though, adding to the potent desire that rose from his body like a potent scent of musk.

A twinge turned to an ache that seized my triceps, threatening to reduce the speed of my movement. Desperate to make him come before I reached climax, I fought ferociously. Braced against him, unsure if the rapid thump was his heartbeat or mine, his tongue muffled my moan.

Exquisite, pure pleasure flowed through my trembling body as he created a storm inside me, heat stirring like a whirlwind that had no means of escape. Gripping his arm as the motions controlling my body intensified, my tightened hold coming with the quickened movement of my pumping arm.Only his growl made me stop, my muscles tingling with relief as I clung to him. His tight embrace felt like it was delivered with both arms, whereas one actually remained firmly buried between my wet thighs. The movement of his hand quickened, my clit feeling impossibly swollen as a deluge of my sticky, sweet secretions coated his hand.

Collapsing against him as I came to a shuddering conclusion, I attempted to stifle the cry that sought escape, a verbal demonstration of my delight as he held me. Filled with a renewed energy, my hand became a blur as I desperately sought his physical relief. It was impossible to believe that he created the sensations that continued to reverberate—how could he do it with just his fingers, especially with his swollen flesh in my hand rather than pressed against my walls?

The distinct intense throb of my clit was unmistakable, affecting my entire body with his thumb still pressed firmly against it.

Barely able to breathe, my throat parched and my arm screaming, I felt his cock undulate in my hand, accompanied by a low-pitched moan that shook his body, carried on his deep exhale as he released his load.

The juddering orgasm that rocked him failed to hinder his actions. Tom withdrew his hand from between my thighs and brought it to his mouth.

Licking his fingers with relish, light glistened off his wet digits as he pulled them from between his lips.

“Look how greedy you are,” I commented playfully, an orgasm-induced smokiness taking my voice down an octave.

With a slight nod, Tom smiled around the fingers that continued to occupy his mouth, unwilling to release them to offer a reply. “You’d love me to sit on your face.” I didn’t ask him so much as tell him, and took immense pleasure from seeing his eyes widen in recognition and agreement as he released my hand. “Please, M—Mariella. When?” He was almost pleading.