(Author's note: Hello, I'm still here! I wish I could promise to be speedier with these updates, but time flies when you're working two jobs, unfortunately. I will say that I am determined to finish this story...eventually. Along with my usual note that what follows is fantasy and you shouldn't base any real-life sexual encounters on anything you read here, I also want to note that this chapter falls back more squarely into "non-con" territory. So if that's not your thing, you should give this a miss.)
I manage to drag myself out of the shower and dry off. I desperately want to rinse out my mouth with mouthwash, but I have a feeling that Derek wouldn't approve of me ridding myself of the taste of his spunk so soon. He'd probably deposit another load on my tongue, just to make a point.
When I leave the bathroom, I find the clothes I was stripped of the night before folded neatly on the foot of the bed, along with my shoes, wallet, and keys. Courtesy of Groves no doubt. Based on how he reacted to finding me in Derek's bed, knowing I was in his shower probably made the old butler apoplectic.
I get dressed quickly. It's a relief to feel like a normal human again.
Derek emerges from the closet, sleek as always in all black. He gives me a cool once-over as he secures his second cufflink. He is clearly unimpressed, which seems unfair. There's not a single person in the entire company who would pass muster next to him. Especially considering one of his suits probably costs more than most employees make in a month.
"Come here," he says, before disappearing back into the closet.
I steel myself and follow him, not sure what to expect. He pulls open a drawer in the bureau, revealing rows of rolled neckties, each in their own little cubby. Jesus, is there any part of his life that's not meticulously, painstakingly organized?
Derek peruses for a while before selecting a silk tie the color of dark chocolate and handing it to me. Admittedly it complements my pale green shirt perfectly, but the thought of being responsible for one of his ridiculously overpriced designer neckties makes me feel a little sick to my stomach. I know better than to think that I have a say in the matter. I slide it under my collar, and even though my hands are shaking slightly, I manage to make a respectable knot.
I guess Derek disagrees, because I haven't even tightened it all the way before he grabs it and pulls it loose again.
"For fuck's sake," he mutters. He jerks me closer and starts tying a much more elaborate knot than I've ever managed before.
"Are you really firing Kevin today?" I ask, trying to distract myself both from how useless I feel and how near he suddenly is. My cheeks are warming up. Goddammit, why am I reacting like a hormonal teenager? Literally ten minutes ago he was choking me ruthlessly on his cock.
His lips twitch in an almost-smile.
"I finally figured out what he was holding over my father. Some overseas tax fraud bullshit that my father was neck deep in. My attorneys made a deal with the government and negotiated a very reasonable payment plan for the back taxes. The paperwork went through this morning. Grant doesn't have any leverage left. I even found a loophole in his contract that will let me fire him without severance. He's done."
He adjusts the necktie until it's snug against the hollow of my throat.
"What about everything else?" I ask.
"Everything else?"
"He saw us last night at the party. Aren't you afraid he'll tell someone?"
Derek chuckles. He hasn't yet released the tie.
"He knows better than to talk about anything that happens at one of Gina's events. She makes everyone sign their lives away in non-disclosure agreements."
"Oh," I say, then something occurs to me. "I didn't sign anything."
"Yes, you did. It was in the packet with the new employment agreement you signed."
I vaguely remember receiving the documents on Derek's first official day as CEO. He told me it was just a renewal of my old agreement, and nothing had changed. I skimmed the first paragraph or so and then signed on all the dotted lines. There were a lot of pages. I have no doubt that one of them was indeed an NDA barring me from spilling the secrets of any sex parties hosted by the city's elite. Probably on pain of death.
But that also means that Derek knew from his very first day as my boss that he was going to take me to one of those events. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and strangely flattering. I recall that first night in his office, when all of this started. He told me that he'd known from the moment he met me that it wouldn't be long before he had me bent over his desk.
The fact that I am now more flattered than disturbed is disturbing in itself.
"You should really read contracts before you sign them, Jack," he says with a hint of amusement.
"How stupid of me to trust my boss."
He makes a noncommittal sound. His gaze has zeroed in on my neck, and he leans in to tongue my pulse point. A small moan escapes me, which only encourages him. His grip tightens, twisting the tie until it constricts my windpipe. Great, more breath play.
His lips attack my neck with more vigor. It takes me a couple seconds to realize that he's purposefully giving me a hickey, too high to be covered by my collar.
Fucking hell.
I squirm under his mouth, but it's not like I can go anywhere. Suddenly his palm is pressed firmly against my crotch. I would suck in a sharp breath if I was able. My heart pounds against my chest so hard that I'm sure Derek can hear it. The blood stirs in my groin at his touch, but he doesn't move--not to press harder or to pull away.
The suction on my neck is almost painful now. It's definitely going to bruise. The guys in sales will never let me live this down. Derek loosens his grip just enough for me to fill my lungs. The oxygen is a rush of euphoria that makes me feel light all over. My testicles are growing tight, and I realize I'm grinding against Derek's hand. Fuck, how long have I been doing that? I tell myself to stop, but he's restricted my airflow again, and I'm hazy with arousal and lack of oxygen, and it feels so damn good.
His lips break from my neck with a small
pop
, and he leans in even closer, until his breath tickles my ear.
"After I fire Grant," he whispers, "I'm going to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you see stars."
I would moan if I had any air left in my lungs. My hips snap forward, and the friction of his palm on my dick feels deliriously good. I'm only partially erect, but I know it won't take much to get me all the way there.
