Derision: A Novel (10 page)

I attempt to shake my head, but it’s useless. He’s already lowering his pants, not even taking them all the way down before he grabs the chain again and pulls, forcing my arms and head against the platform.

It’s in this position that the ache between my thighs becomes intolerable. I whimper as he presses his palm against my back, pushing me farther down. “I have no choice but to finish you off. But that’s what you want—that’s why you torment me.”

“Chase…”

Edging up behind me, he digs his fingers into the soft skin of my behind, aggressively lifting my ass up toward him. “You better call me Master, Alexis. Or I’ll take no mercy. I’ll brutalize your wanting ass the way it needs to be fucked.”

There’s no humor in his tone, no hint that this is in any way a game. He’s bent on making me feel every bit of scorn he just suffered. Which is somehow my doing.

My breath saws in and out of my lungs, the short span of space between my face and the floor too hot, too stifling. Then I do cry out as Chase spears into me without warning. He fills me completely, not stopping until his pelvis slaps my ass.

“Fucking hell,” he grates. “Your cunt is so fucking wet.” He slaps a cheek, making me buck. “Did you rain for those bastards?”

My lips move, but no words leave my mouth.

His pelvis connects with my ass again, triggering a reflex that nearly pushes the anal plug out. But just as quickly, his palm covers the jewel. “Answer,” he snaps.

“No,” I say. “I didn’t.”

“Damn right you didn’t.” He pulls out, then slams back inside, deeper. “You only rain for me. Did you get off on him touching you?” He follows his invasive question with a long, hard thrust.

“No,” I say, my voice breathy as I accept the fucking. “I only want you.”

He grunts as he delivers another savage thrust. “I should’ve broken his fucking hand.”

It goes on like this. Him demanding answers. Me reassuring that I belong to him. He fucks me until I’m shaking, my arms barely supporting my weight, the chains cutting into my wrists.

I suffer a violent orgasm that levels me, his ruthless thrusts never letting up as my body seizes, then he rips out of me and slaps my pussy, sending a tremor ricocheting through me. As he removes the plug, I bite down on my lip. The loss of pressure feels so good I almost cry from the sensation.

I don’t get to enjoy it long; the tip of his cock is there, seated at my entrance.

“I don’t think I’m ready…” The words are out before I realize I’ve uttered them.

Chase is so still, I can hear my ragged breaths. Then, fisting a hand in my hair, he pulls my head back as he leans over me. “Remember what we discussed this morning? I don’t have the patience for indecisiveness, temptress. Are you ready for me?”

My chest tight, I leap forward. “Yes, Master.”

His low groan of approval slips over me. “You’re more than ready, temptress. Your ass has been begging for this since you first bent over to change that slide, you fucking tease.”

My eyes squeeze shut, but my body reacts to his accusation. I’m hot and achy, and before I’m able to refute any such claim that I purposely provoked him, he releases my hair and pushes inside my channel.

White-hot pain sparks behind my lids. The music from beyond the room heightens, the beat hitting my ears in sync with the sharp throb. That pain pulses and increases the farther he drives inside, opening me up to take him.

My fingers curl around the link of chain, my arms shaking as I find a grip. And when he backs out only to slam inside once again, I grit my teeth, my voice lost as air vacates my lungs.

His groan fuels the fire rising between us. “You want me to tell you how tight you are?” he asks as he plunges deeper, his voice as strained as my muscles. “You’d love that. Hearing how much I love your tight ass. How I can think of nothing else but fucking your little hole over and over, filling you, releasing inside you, but you know this. You know how badly you effect me – and how much I crave you.”

Those impassioned words coil around my pain, transforming the piercing ache into a pleasurable friction that demands his rough thrusts. “God – yes. Crave me. Fuck me…harder.”

I can’t believe my own loss of control—but there’s a visceral desire surging within me to own this man right back. I want to feel
his
loss of control. I want to make this powerful man powerless in wanting me. I want him to need me…until it breaks him.

It’s as if a switch is flipped. And I feel the moment it happens—the breathy curse that falls from his mouth as his body quakes. The need thrumming through him so violently, he wraps his hand around my throat and drives inside me with an abandon that’s frightening…until I push back, accepting him fully.

Heat travels the length of my body, igniting my tender skin, curling and arcing as he takes every last inch for himself. As he tightens his hold, nearly sealing off my breathing, the light in the room dims further. The pressure builds until I’m gasping, frantic.

His growl tears through me as he rips his hand away, and the wave that crashes over me as I take a full breath is shattering. So much pleasure my body feels physically unable to handle the swell. He reaches down and strokes my clit right as I tighten around him. He knows my body, anticipates my signals. And the orgasm grabs hold. Fierce. All-consuming.

Fall
.
Fall
.
Fall
.

I’m twisted, and warped, and distorted beneath his ravenous taking—and I’m willing. Willing to be shaped and altered into what he most desires. I’m his perfect, willing toy. Only I’m so much more, and the yearning to be his everything is almost unbearable as my climax spirals around us.

He falls against my back, his heavy breaths singeing my sensitized skin, his cock pulsing inside me. The beat of his heart hammers in sync to the racing of mine, and as he clutches his arms around me, branding me with his fingers as they dig into my flesh, I pray they leave behind a mark. Some physical sign that this moment is real.

“You’re going to be my ruin,” he whispers before he pulls out. “And I’m going to punish you for it.”

His vow should elicit fear, but I’m not afraid of him. I’m frightened that when he does, as I’m begging him to discipline me within my overturned world, I’ll be powerless against falling maddeningly in love with him.

T
here’s
a baring of the soul that no one should witness.

It’s painful and destructive, and when exposed, decimates everything in its path.

The smiles we hide behind, the fake nuances, the cordial, polite, boring exchanges. The pleasantries we force ourselves to spew day after day… they are necessary, despite being exhausting. We do them because it’s what keeps others and ourselves protected.

So when those walls come crashing down, and you let someone see the truth of you, there’s a certain damage control which must follow. We do not want to be looked upon as if we
are
that thing in our worst moment.

Because that’s what we say, right?
I wasn’t myself… I was so angry, I didn’t mean those words
. But the sick truth is, we always mean them. They are the undisguised actuality of our thoughts, spit out in a moment of panic, fear, heightened emotion.

We do not want to be this vile thing…yet we are.

The absolute, unvarnished truth of a person is gruesome.

Like salt in the wound, that is the sting of our true nature.

I’ve always lived my life with a sort of honesty that made others uncomfortable. I believed that I was above cloaking my bad habits in order to provide those little shades of disguise that people crave so badly. But being with Alexis tonight showed me my own pitiful truth.

There’s a monster lurking within me that even I hide from myself.

That’s the most terrifying realization, isn’t it? When you discover an inherent darkness, an innate violence that you didn’t fathom you were capable of.

I didn’t want to stop.

I wanted to brand her body. Carve my nails in her skin and mark her. Fuck her until she bled…to let all others know she’s mine. An animal marking his territory. Spreading my scent all over her and debasing her in the worst way.

Even now, the chill sweeps over me, the moment long gone but not fully abandoned. I latch on to the small comfort that I did not abuse her—that I stopped. I did leash the monster. But the pressing fear still lurks. The question of next time…

The Arlington skyline is dark, rolling with ink-swollen clouds as the night is lit with a dusting of hazy lights. I stand before the long window, hands curled into fists by my sides, waiting to hear the shower cut off so I can take my next breath.

Instead of bringing Alexis back to my place, I’ve secured my private room in the hotel for the night. This way, I won’t be tempted to chastise her further. Right now, it would result in releasing my frustrations, and the thought of other guests hearing her screams curbs some of the temptation.

Some.

With any other woman, I doubt I would’ve cared to see Mason’s hands all over the whore. In fact, I probably would’ve enjoyed watching her squirm, wishing I’d touch her with such rapt interest.

I’ve never cared before. Not for any of them. And I’m not sure now if what I feel for Alexis is concern or just my greedy nature. The events of this week—Malcolm Bates’ trial and the partners trying to establish their dominance—has left me edgy and conflicted by my own thoughts.

I’m not easily confused. I’ve always known what I want, and known how to get it. I’ve never questioned myself. I was born who I am; I was not nurtured into this beast. I didn’t have uncaring, abusive parents. Just the opposite. My home life was normal, with an average, happy childhood.

My parents live in a grand home in the Hamptons where I visit them on holidays.

So when the question comes…as I know it will eventually…when Alexis desires to know why my interests and appetites are so extreme, there will be no answer good enough for her.

That bothers me more than it should.

I hear the water shut off, and finally, my lungs expel a tense breath.

Sinking my hands into my pockets, I turn to face her as she opens the bathroom door. Dressed in the black silk nighty I selected from the clothes Jefferson delivered, she’s wringing out her long hair out a towel. Her steps falter as she meets my eyes.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, which tastes awkward on my tongue. I never ask, and I never care. But I need to know that she can handle my desires.

She blinks a few times, as if stunned by my question, then tosses the towel over a chair. “I’m all right. Thank you.”

The pressure on my chest eases some, and I nod toward the bed nearest her. “You’ll sleep here tonight, then I’ll arrange for Jefferson to take you home in the morning.” I walk toward the other bed and remove my suit jacket. “Tomorrow, go to Julia. She’ll show you to your office—”

“Office?” she interrupts, and immediately realizes her mistake. Her head bows as she mutters, “Sorry, sir.”

For some reason, my chest pangs at her response. “Chase,” I correct, unbuttoning my shirt and tugging it off. “Remember? When alone, that’s fine. You’re such a fast learner, though.” I give her a smile, which seems to lighten her dejected countenance.

“As I was saying—” I strip off my pants, needing to be rid of the binding clothes “—your office. It’s a few doors down from mine, and I’ll have your assignments prepared for you when you arrive. Julia will help you get situated, but you can come to me with any questions.” I stall near the edge of the bed, turn toward her. “I have no doubt that you’ll do well in this position. You’ve worked hard, Alexis. You do deserve this promotion.”

She tucks her feet beneath her, sitting so casually on the bed it makes my chest ache at the beautiful sight of her. With each softly spoken word, she seems to come alive a little more. Oddly, it encourages me to say more—to want to see this side of her.

“Always let me know what you need,” I say as I pull back the comforter and slip into bed. “I’ll take care of you.”

Before I reach toward the lamp, she eases off the bed and approaches mine, her steps as timid as her downturned gaze.

“I need to feel you next to me,” she says, her voice breathy, unsure.

Against my better judgment, I peel back the sheets, welcoming her into my bed. I should be stern, teaching her her place. But I can see she needs more aftercare than I’ve offered her thus far.

I don’t think it was my brutality in taking her tonight that has shaken her. It was more the display on which I put her. Stripped nude before her subordinates. Made to perform sexually with women before an audience—which I have no doubt she has never experienced.

Although that is required in the induction, it was more for me. Knowing just how humiliated she’d feel. And yes, when being inducted as my sub, she was supposed to be shared among the partners. That’s the agreement. That’s what keeps us equal.

I broke the covenant.

Of course, it’s within my power to do so—to assert my dominance over them—but it was a test I failed for myself. I didn’t know if I’d be able to go through with it, to allow them to touch her until that moment. And in a blinding fit of fury, I had my answer.

And now, they have theirs.

If one of them is really moving into position to advance a takeover, they know I’m vulnerable. My gambit failed. I thought I could sacrifice Alexis to them—to reestablish my dominance—but she turned out to be too great a sacrifice.

She is not a pawn to be maneuvered. She is not even a pawn to be promoted; she is already my queen.

And to my utter dread, I know the queen holds all the power.

Should they try to abuse that knowledge, however, I’ll have to remove their power. For now, I’ll need to keep Alexis under close watch.

Her slender body presses up against mine as she hesitantly lays her head on my chest. Her wet hair is bothersome at first, and I open my mouth to order her to dry it—but her scent of lavender soon douses my irritation, and I wrap my arm around her. I have to admit, though I couldn’t sleep like this, the feel of her so close and under my protection eases the rest of the lingering anxiety.

“Tonight was hard for you,” I say. It’s not a question.

She nods against me. “Yes.”

I run my fingers along her back, giving her the comforting touch she needs. “It was more difficult than it should’ve been. That is partly my fault,” I admit.

“Because they weren’t supposed to touch me.”

My eyes close as I release the tightness from my chest with a heavy breath. “No, because they were.”

She shivers as I stroke her arm, and I’m not sure if it’s due to my admission or my callused touch. Possibly both. “Once something is mine—once it belongs to me, I don’t like sharing. And ironically, I’m the one who designed the induction rule. It was meant to create an equality among the partners.”

Bravely, she rests her hand on my chest, her fingers splaying over me. “You didn’t think you’d change your mind.”

A clipped laugh slips free. “Close.” I glance down, taking her in with a hard swallow. “I don’t believe any of us are capable of change. Truthfully, I never feared that there would ever be something or someone that I’d deem valuable enough not to be shared among the partners. It was a rule I enforced more for them than myself. To keep any one of them from asserting themselves over another.” I stroke her damp hair. “It’s not within our makeup to share power.”

“Then why put men like that in charge at all?”

Good question. “Because The Firm needs dominant overseers to ensure the members obey the rules. And the law firm needs respected partners to set a standard.”

She tilts her head back, her green eyes catching the low lamplight. “I think you enjoyed asserting your dominance over them tonight.”

A crooked smile hikes my face. Relief settles me more—that I didn’t thoroughly terrify her. However, what does it mean that I terrified myself? “I enjoyed taking you from them.”

I enjoyed it far too much—to the point I nearly lost control.

The second I felt myself slip…Alexis broke through and could’ve easily pulled a switch. She could’ve demanded I do anything in that moment, and I would’ve obeyed her without question. Without thought. Willingly and helplessly. And that’s what has the monster within snapping and growling to finish her off.

She’s more of a threat than any one of the partners.

Shifting her to lie on her side, I wrap an arm around her. Content for now to keep her close. “Do you know why you cry when you’re ridiculed? When you’re embarrassed? Why the shame causes your chest to ache?”

She tenses at my abrupt change of topic. Remaining silent, she shakes her head against the pillow.

“Humiliation stimulates certain brain regions associated with physical pain,” I say. “Most people take that hurt and convert it into anger, a defense mechanism, to protect themselves. You, my unique creature, simply feel that pain. It lives inside you. That is what makes you so much more tantalizing to every top and Dom out there – you are a true submissive. You surrender to your emotions. You don’t hide from them or try to fight them. You’re a rare and delectable treat. I have never come across a more perfect, tempting woman in my existence. And that is why, from here on out, as you are mine to possess, I’m your shelter. No one will ever hurt you again. If they wound you internally, they will bleed.”

She lies still in my arms. During my speech, she barely blinked, an almost mesmerized glaze to her expression that holds me captivated. This beautiful woman is looking at me like I’m the world to behold—yet it is she who has upset my most basic beliefs.

Her fingers pull away to clasp the pendant of her necklace. “Does it have a meaning?”

How far do I take her down the rabbit hole? My actions tonight didn’t scare her—but at some point, the veil will slip too far, and there won’t be any turning back.

“It’s a skylark,” I say simply.

Her eyebrows draw together. “Like your hotel.”

“That, and it’s a play on my surname.” I pause a beat, just to accept that I’ve opened this door to her. “Pride was a big deal to my father. He believed names hold value, so I took that to heart. Plus,” I add, bringing her closer. “I knew it would look beautiful on you.”

The doubt in her eyes calls me out, and I chuckle. “You didn’t have this designed for me,” she says.

“No, I didn’t,” I say, admitting the truth. “But I had it designed with you in mind.”

She accepts this more easily than I’m comfortable with. And I despise how honest and unfiltered the statement is. I suck in a breath and release her. “Roll over and get some sleep.”

My abruptness severs the moment. She nods as I move toward the other side of the bed. There’s more damage control that will need to be done tomorrow. But lying next to Alexis, hearing her shallow breaths as she drifts asleep, relieves the urgency I’d normally feel to control the matter.

* * *

T
he ringing
of my phone brings me out of a heavy sleep. I’m disoriented for a moment until I recognize the hotel room. Bathed in early morning light, her features pale and her body curled beneath the white comforter, Alexis slumbers through the ringing that has now been picked up by the hotel phone.

I reach across her and grab the handset. “Who is this?”

“We’re sorry to disturb you, sir,” the woman on the other end says. “But there’s an urgent call from a Mister Malcolm Bates. Do you wish me to connect you?”