Derision (13 page)

I lower my mouth toward Alexis’s ear. “Show them you’re mine,” I say as I ram inside her, eliciting a heavy moan from her lips.

Appalled, the man speeds away from our display. I can’t help it, I laugh as Alexis squirms beneath me. “You did that on purpose,” she accuses, her eyes a fierce mix of mortification and righteous anger.

I grasp her wrists and drive them above her head, bearing down on top of her. “And you love it.” With measured, slow thrusts, I hump her mound, rocking into her as I grind the hard slab of my pelvis against her clit.

Her heated gaze shutters, her tits seeking friction as she arches beneath me, her body accepting this truth—that she’s mine to use, just as I’m hers to manipulate.

“Tell me you don’t love every dirty thing I do to you,” I challenge.

I continue to fuck her in a steady rhythm, my cock growing harder the tighter her pussy hugs me. “Oh, god…I do,” she admits. Her green eyes find mine, her mouth emitting tiny breaths as she undulates against me, seeking her release. “You fucking devastate me in the best way.”

“Fucking hell,” I hiss. Her erogenous admission slinks around me, forcing my thrusts deeper beyond my control. And when she cries out, writhing her greedy cunt against me, I come hard. Every muscle tenses as her hot pussy milks my cock.

“Sexy as hell,” I say as I collapse. My mouth claims hers, our tongues mingling in a sensual entanglement—both of us just as eager, just as desperate, to rule the other.

For the first time in my life, I’m terrified. Terrified to lose as much as I am to win. Either fearful outcome means the loss of myself—but to gain all of Alexis, it’s a willing sacrifice.

T
he elevator ride
to the sixth floor has never felt so long before.

As the floor numbers slowly tick up, I fondle the skylark pendant against the hollow of my neck, the thin chain suddenly too tight, too constricting.

Pulling the collar of my dress shirt farther up, I tuck the pendant beneath, concealing it from view. It’s not that I’m ashamed—I’m not. If it’s discovered that I’m
seeing
one of my bosses, I won’t deny it. It’s unethical, but not criminal.

I’m already accustomed to being the outsider at work, so my coworkers’ judgment shouldn’t really affect me. Besides, becoming Chase’s submissive has given me something I’ve never had here before: an ally.

Before Jefferson arrived at my apartment this morning (which was odd enough), I received a text from Julia. Something she’s never done. Ever. She supplied that my office was ready, and copies of the case files on Malcolm Bates were on my desk. She welcomed me—warmly—to my new supervisor position.

At some point between the moment Chase shattered me on the hood of his car and I received that text, the world shifted. Julia became an ally. Which is more appropriate than friend. Friend feels forced. We’re not friends, but as I’ve never been able to call anyone here an ally, I’m content with that.

The elevator doors open, and I take one deep breath before stepping forward and entering the lobby of Lark and Gannet.

A few peeks, a couple raised eyebrows, and one sneer and counting as I make my way toward Julia’s office. Only as I enter the interoffice hallway, I spot my name stenciled in bold white on a glass door.

“This is yours, Alexis.”

Julia’s voice isn’t how I remember. Her tone is softer, and as I turn to face her, her features reflect that softness. So much has happened since we last spoke, that I’m wondering if it’s me or her that’s changed. Maybe both.

“This is…” I trail off, at a loss for words. “I know that I haven’t earned it. Not really,” I say, lowering my voice. “I don’t have years of experience, and—”

“Let’s go inside and get you settled,” she says, unlocking the door.

She enters ahead of me and then hands me the key. “Close the door, please, Alexis.”

As I do, I’m worried I may have assumed wrong about my new ally. “Julia, when I submitted my application for the supervisor position, I knew that I was inexperienced by like, three years.” I attempt a smile, then shake it off. “But I’m dedicated. I’ll do the job. I just wanted to thank you—”

“As I said before, it wasn’t up to me.” Her smile is, strangely, more genuine than mine. “You don’t have the required minimum years of experience, but that’s not the only requirement. Mister Larkin feels you’re qualified, and I don’t combat his authority.”

No other law practice in the country is conducted this way, I’m sure. I nod my understanding, even though she did state that she held sway over him the last time we spoke. She also seemed against my receiving the promotion. What’s changed?

I’m not entirely sure why she’s being so affable. Chase is her boss—more so, he’s made it clear that Julia oversees the secret internship for The Firm. Her duties to the practice aren’t well-defined, but I trust her job doesn’t require her to be this friendly.

“This is new for me, also.” She walks around the desk, situating the stack of files. “Mister Larkin has never taken on a submissive before, so we’re both going to have to feel our way through this transition. I’m still your mentor, as that was made clear to me. I’m here for you, Alexis, should you have any questions or need anything.”

I clasp my hands together to keep from fidgeting. “Okay, then. Thank you.”

She gifts me with another beautiful smile as she approaches. “As far as your duties, I think it’s best if we work on the Bates’ case together. I’ll help you get accustomed with delegating research and briefs to the paralegal team this week.”

Relief floods me, and I relax my shoulders. “I’d appreciate that.”

Her head tilts as she reaches up and unbuttons the top of my shirt. “You’re Master will be offended if you try to hide your collar like some shameful secret,” she says, opening my shirt to display the skylark pendant. “If you belong to him”—her eyes meet mine—“then you belong to him. Understand?”

I do, more than I can express. “Yes,” I say simply.

“Good.” She cocks her head toward the files. “Then first, check in with Mister Larkin. See if he needs anything from you before he releases your services to me, and then we’ll get started.”

I lick my lips, my chest fluttering with anticipation. “Yes, ma’am.” I head toward the door, but Julia’s voice halts my steps.

“You’re no longer required to call me that.”

I glance at her, confused.

“I’m just Julia,” she says. “I’m now required to refer to you as ma’am.”

For the second time this morning, the world beneath my feet feels as if it’s shifting. I accept her vague explanation with a tight smile, knowing that I’m not going to understand everything all at once.

I told Chase that I’d agree as long as I could trust him to guide me. As I head toward his office—the first time on my own—I’m suddenly worried about my outfit. I should’ve asked Julia if it was good enough, or acceptable, or whatever. The more stares I garner from my coworkers, the more flustered I become.

Why wasn’t he in the car with Jefferson this morning? Had I gotten instructions from him first thing, then I would’ve been
somewhat
more prepared. As it is, I’m unsure of whether to knock on his door or call. Or text.

And immediately, I despise this new situation.

I’ve never been mistaken for bold…but I certainly never questioned every single stupid, mundane decision I have to make.

I can feel the curious stares on my back, and in a need to get away from the encroaching anxiety, I raise my hand and knock. Three times.

“Come in, Miss Wilde.”

The door’s unlocked. I enter to find him seated behind his desk—the desk that I was bent over just a few nights ago. “How did you know it was me?”

Chase looks up from his laptop, his eyebrows raised. God, but it was just yesterday that his hands were on me, that he was inside me, and I’m still spellbound by his sex appeal. The way his toned body fills out a suit should be a sin.

“Julia,” he says in answer. “I told her to instruct you to report to me.” Pushing his chair back, he rises with graceful but purposeful movements, coming around his desk.

I lower my gaze as he approaches. “Do you need anything—?”

His fingers clasp my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “There are rules,” he says, his deep voice sliding over me like an abrasive touch. “You’re still in training, so it’s time you learn them.”

An ache lodges in my throat as I try to nod, then say, “Yes, sir.”

This Chase—he’s the same, but not. Was he not there with me yesterday? Did he not feel what I did? Or does he feel things differently? I find it impossible that he didn’t experience that moment between us on the same, profound level. But his demeanor is just as cold and rigid as when he first approached me in the hallway.

Maybe he’s right; I’m still in training, still learning. Maybe he experiences that kind of connection with every woman he takes so brutally—and I’m the inexperienced, the sheltered girl who tastes it for the first time and confuses sex with love.

Regardless, I’m here. I’m committed. I couldn’t walk away from him if I wanted to. And I don’t. I have to accept that Chase has…layers. Some of which I may never penetrate.

“When you enter my office,” he says, walking toward his desk where he leans, “you’re to kneel here”—he points to the place where he had me kneel before—“and wait for me to instruct you.”

I obey without question. Lowering myself onto my knees, I assume the knelt position, my heels to my ass. Thankfully, I’m not wearing stilettos, and my two-inch heels rest comfortably enough against my backside.

I bring my chin to my chest as he stands before me.

“You’re no longer just another paralegal in my department. You’re mine, and as such, you’re required to dress like it.”

A pang reverberates through my chest. I hunted through my closet all morning, trying to find clothes that would please him. In the end, I chose a white dress shirt and pencil skirt. Simple, yet tasteful.

“Julia has access to my account. She’ll take you shopping this evening.”

A flutter of anger bubbles to the surface. “I have money,” I say.

He doesn’t reprimand me right away, and I stay silent, my breath bated. “Yes, you do. A twenty percent bump in your salary, in fact.” Then he’s closer, his polished shoes entering my vision. “That’s not the point, however. You’re mine to do as I please with, and my pleasure results from you wearing the clothing I choose and provide.”

Like a kept whore
. Just as quickly, I push the thought away. I’m not angry with Chase’s ways, his desires. I understood them when I accepted, willingly, to be his sub. I’m furious with his ability to ice me out with his stone walls.

“Yes, sir,” I say, softening my voice. “Thank you.”

“Are you wearing it?”

His abrupt question heats my face, and the scent of his arousing cologne is like a punishment. Tormenting me with the man I can’t stop craving. “Yes, sir.” I almost didn’t…but I knew if I didn’t insert the anal plug this morning, as he requested before he dropped me off yesterday, then I’d be punished. And as his rewards have been near punishments all of their own—just as he avowed his love would be—I’m not yet prepared for his wrath.

From my peripheral, I glimpse him adjust the hard bulge in his slacks. A buzz of warmth spreads between my thighs, initiating a deep ache at the thought of me turning him on.

“Good,” he says, his voice more gruff, more revealing. “That’s all for now. Return to your office and start on the Bates brief.” His feet leave my sight as he moves away. “We need to have one ready to present in the event the ACA moves for a pre-trial.”

My brow furrows. “She’s filing charges?” I ask, then hurriedly amend. “Sir. I don’t understand. With what evidence?”

“Stand up,” he orders.

I go to place my hand on the floor to give myself leverage, but his hand is already there, offering me his assistance. I slide my palm against his, savoring the roughness, the coarse heat my skin craves.

He helps me rise to my feet, our gazes locking. Then he straightens his back, pulling away from me. “The Commonwealth are claiming the metadata was hacked. We need an IT expert to refute this.” His blue eyes flick over my face, his mouth pressed in a hard line. “The partners and I are working on that strategy, so I need you and Julia to make sure you cover every minute of the metadata in the brief. Our evidence needs to be solid.”

“Yes, sir.” I glance up at him. “Is that all you need?”

His nostrils flare, the intense look in his eyes wrapping my heated skin in a longing shiver. “Yes. For now. You can go.”

His curt dismissal feels like rejection. As I turn away and head toward the door, I’m more than confused, more than dejected. I don’t understand what I’ve done to earn his resentment. The outfit? Maybe he hates my style that much. Another game where he degrades me…? Possible.

But this feels…distant. It feels like a punishment.

“Alexis.”

The heavy rasp in his voice infuses every muscle, every nerve, pulling me to a stop. “Yes, sir?”

“Fucking hell,” he swears under his breath, then his hands are sealed around my arms as his chest presses against my back.

My hands reach out toward the wall, bracing myself against the impact.

“That fucking skirt,” he says out loud, but I’m not sure it’s meant for me to hear. His hard want pushes against my ass, and I suck in air at the feel of the plug lodging deeper. “Did you wear it to torture me on purpose?”

I didn’t—but I’ll be sure to remember his loss of control over it from now on. I shake my head as his hands hike the hem of my skirt, his rough fingers searing my flesh as they drag along my skin.

He turns my back toward the wall, his arms bracketing me in. “I’ll never be able to train you if you keep fucking with my head.” Before I’m able to deny anything, his lips crash into mine.

I’m submerged under the swell, a muffled moan swallowed as the force rocks through me. He lowers his arms and grasps the backside of my thigh, bringing my leg up. His other hand seeks beneath my skirt, his fingers slipping my underwear aside and sampling the wetness as his tongue abuses my mouth, greedily claiming me from the inside out.

He drops my leg and snatches my underwear down my thighs, his mouth leaving me flushed and panting. “You tease me, then you can go the rest of the day without panties.”

I watch him pocket the black bikini underwear—the only barrier I had; my only sense of security—though probably a false one—that I wouldn’t lose the plug at some point today. “Chase…sir?”

His lips, that are just as swollen as mine, slant into a wicked smile. “You’re welcome to earn them back at the end of the day.”

Flustered, I push my skirt down, then situate myself and turn toward the door. Before I grasp the knob, my own smile makes an appearance.

“Thank you for a most illuminating meeting, sir,” I say, then toss a wink his way as I open the door and exit.

The stunned expression on his face, knowing I affect him as much as he does me, helps my head lift a little higher as I saunter through the hallway, able to ignore the stares a little more easily.