Finding Lily

‘I don’t want Lasik surgery,’ I told him. ‘Or, if I did, I’d save up and get it myself. You don’t get to surgically alter my body. I want my fancy specs back.’

‘Got it.’ He finished his popsicle in one bite. ‘It’s not like I was trying to get you to buy fake tits or something.’

I snorted.

‘Not that you could improve upon perfection.’ He cupped my right boob with an air of ownership. ‘All right, Lily. I’ll ease up on the extravagant gifts, even though you should know by now there aren’t any strings attached.’

‘Why would I know that? We’ve only just started –’ I paused ‘– hanging out.’

‘Is that what we’re doing, Lily?’ Dorian asked, waiting. ‘Hanging out?’

‘I don’t know. I should stop talking.’

‘Very good idea. So, new glasses, a trip to the ballet, your dance lessons, a library and a new bed. Then I’ll try to stop.’ He brushed his lips against mine. ‘Though I don’t know what’s fun about money if you can’t spend it.’

‘And popsicles.’

‘Yes, all the popsicles. I’m good to go. You? How’s that bum? Feeling any better?’

‘Let’s find out,’ I suggested, and I rolled over and straddled him.

‘Go get me my dessert, woman,’ he said, shoving me off.

‘I am your dessert,’ I retorted, and padded off to the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a manila folder on the marble countertop, and, even in the dim light could make out my name, Lily Dewitt, in Dorian’s now familiar script. Does he keep files on me? What is that? I hesitated, thought better of opening it and flung open the freezer instead.

‘Hey,’ Dorian said, as I leapt back on the bed. ‘You really did bring the whole box, didn’t you?’

‘I don’t do anything half-assed,’ I said, and tore open the wrapper with my teeth and licked. ‘You like grape?’

‘Give me that,’ he ordered. ‘Lie down on your back.’

‘Yes, Mr Holder.’ I dropped back, and cringed at the pressure against my sore flesh.

He traced the tip of the popsicle around my nipples, and sucked at them while I shivered. ‘Definitely grape.’

‘Are you sure?’ I whispered. ‘Maybe it’s lime.’

‘No, lime tastes like floor cleaner.’

‘Dorian, please play with me.’

‘All right. Let’s see.’ He slid the popsicle down my stomach, over my shaved mons, slipped just the tip between the lips of my pussy, then began slowly circling my clit, which cowered at the iciness. Christ, it was cold. ‘Let me have another taste, Lily.’

As Dorian ate me out, I heard him giggle under the sheets, something I’d never have expected from my cantankerous master. Not one of his low chuckles, derisive snorts or hollow laughs. A goofy, high-school-boy, doofus giggle.

And it was delightful. I reached down and stroked his hair with one hand and his cheek with the other. I touched his dimple I had grown so fond of, and he responded by burying his face further against my slick pussy, slurping at my juices and the popsicle he was playing with, whatever its colour was, I couldn’t remember. For the next several minutes we were lost in a sticky, slippery rainbow of ice and heat, salty and sweet.

For the record, the tip of a cherry popsicle prodding against one’s asshole, followed with a gentle pinky prod, is rather lovely.

After I came, my not-boyfriend pulled himself up to face me, tossing back the tent of white sheet. He touched my temple, another act of tenderness which struck me as entirely out of character. Mr Holder was full of surprises that night.

‘Well?’ he whispered.

I nodded, though unsure what I was assenting to, as the darkness made his face nearly inscrutable. Did you come, Lily? Are you falling in love with me, Lily? Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you want to stay with me for ever and always?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Like Dorian ever would have said any of that. He would never miss the moment I came, had no doubt in his power to make it happen in seconds – or hours, depending on how much he wanted to torture me – and was far too arrogant to think a woman would feel the need to fake it for him. He knew damned well that I was falling in love with him, perhaps had already fallen altogether. He knew I wanted him to leave me alone, but only because I wanted him to call me his, for ever and always. I had no delusions that would ever happen, and was fully prepared to have my heart broken. Dorian Holder was as addictive as any drug, and I had no willpower wherever he was concerned. Will, yes. Power, no.

‘You tasty little thing’ is what Dorian said, licking his lips, before parting mine with his chilly tongue. Then he pulled away, reluctant, and asked, ‘Should we take the rest of the box to the shower?’

As I was still catching my breath and shivering, it took me a minute to stammer the words ‘Y-yes. Things are getting a little out of control.’

‘You don’t know the meaning of “out of control”, Lily,’ he replied, then pointed down. ‘Now we’re going to the shower, we’ll get clean, we’ll get dirty and, most importantly, I want you to wrap that freezing, beautiful mouth around my cock while hot water runs over both of us. Then I’ll try to fuck you up the ass, and you’ll tell me I can’t.’

‘Am I that predictable?’

‘There’s clean sheets in the linen closet. Strip my bed. Make my bed. I like the sheets tight enough that you can bounce a quarter off them. Then you may join me in the shower.’ Dorian picked up his watch from the bedside table, and squinted. ‘You have five minutes to follow my instructions.’

He grabbed the rest of the popsicles and left the room, with a slight bounce to his step. Meanwhile, I wished for a dead cockroach to put on his side of the bed, like Maggie Gyllenhaal did to James Spader in Secretary. I wanted him to punish me harder, upping the mind-control games, ordering me around even more, fanning the flames of my desire, which grew ever more powerful each time I surrendered to him. There’s more to life, more to kink, than begging, nipple clips, and butt-smacking. I wondered just how far he would go.

And how far I would let him. That remained to be seen.

Fuckin’ A, I hate cleaning.

Thank God for contour deep sheets.

Especially when they’re 1,000-thread-count Egyptian cotton.

Dorian’s phone rang, startling me. BEATRICE, I read on the screen. Lord knew what possessed me, but I picked up the phone.

You see, I had a few questions to ask.

CHAPTER 7

Hit the Wall

‘Lily?’ Beatrice’s lilting voice sounded surprised, but not entirely displeased to hear my ‘Hello’. She clicked her tongue. ‘So my big bro’s letting you answer his phone now? This is unprecedented.’

‘Not really. He’s in the shower,’ I half-whispered, all conspiratorial, though Dorian surely couldn’t hear me over the din of rushing water. Keep it brief, Lily, you’ve only got a couple minutes left before getting your just desserts from Mr Holder.

‘Spare me the details. This is already TMI.’ She had reverted to her usual curt tone, which was almost a relief. Really didn’t need to pal up to his post-adolescent half-sister.

Well, maybe a bit. I needed a favour.

‘Right. Quick question: can you send me the names of whatever companies you thought I might be a good match for? And the contacts? And tweak my letter of recommendation?’

‘Those are three questions.’

My response was silence. The Holder power plays were getting old.

She broke the silence after about fifteen seconds, and sighed. ‘You still there, Lily?’

‘Still here. Waiting for your answer.’

‘Well. You came to this even sooner than I thought you would, Lily.’ There was a pregnant pause, before she added, ‘Good for you.’

‘Yeah, well … Ya know.’

‘Yes, I’ll absolutely do some digging, and shoot you a note in the afternoon. Say goodnight to Dor for me. Unless you don’t want him to know you’ve been using his phone. Since you two are having private time—’ I could almost hear her shuddering.

‘Uhm, right. I guess we’re sort of between private times.’

‘Gross, Dewitt. Then I’ll just give him a shout tomorrow. We’ve got more family drama blowing in our general direction and he’ll need a head’s up.’

I digested this. ‘Will I need a head’s up?’

‘Don’t flatter yourself. Goodnight, Lily.’

Just as I was hanging up, a deep, dark voice startled me.

‘What. Do. You. Think. You’re. Doing?’

I rolled off the half-made bed landed on my feet, and took in the full image of my Master. He was naked, dripping wet, muscles tensed as though ready for a fight.

‘I was just—’

‘Put that down, now.’ He pointed at me. ‘That’s an order, Lily.’

‘Or what?’ I asked, my heart pounding with a thrill of fear and excitement.

Dorian grabbed me and slapped my wrist, knocking the phone to the floor. He shoved me face-first against the wall, pinning my arms over my head. The plaster was cool against my cheek and belly. I arched my hips back, ready for his penetration, hoping he would make it hurt this time. Unlikely, since my cunt was already getting so wet that even his porn-star-sized dong pounding hard and fast with no foreplay would give me nothing but the sweetest—

He shoved three fingers into my pussy, ignoring my clitoris altogether and ramming them straight against my G-spot. Shrieking, I gushed all over his hand, so much girl-cum that it ran like piss down my legs. Without warning, he crammed the same three fingers up my asshole, which was still puckered tightly from the cold teasing of a popsicle. My shriek of pleasure morphed into one of utter torment as he roughly penetrated and stretched my not entirely virginal rosebud with his long, deft digits. Despite my initial terror and pain, it was opening to him. ‘Say the word,’ he growled into my ear.

I shook my head, or shook it as much as I could when pinned up against a wall from behind.

‘Very well.’ A squishing sound as he lubed his cock with my juice.

Oh, hell. Ow. Ow.

Holy Mary, Mother in Heaven.

My poor bum. My poor, poor, violated … Bang bang bang. With each one of his unforgiving thrusts, my pelvis slammed against the wall, and the repeated thudding against my mons brought about a heavy thrum from the pounding pressure on my clit, and when I came this time it felt as though I were leaving my body, my groans of pleasure and shrieks of pain so foreign, before I returned to semi-awareness as Dorian cried out his own release, the rush of wet heat as he came in the tightness of my ass driving me over the top yet again.

‘Never –’ he rasped, letting me go. ‘Never, ever use my phone again. Don’t even touch it. You only got the tip of the iceberg, Dewitt. Next time you defy me, expect my full ten inches up your tight little ass. No lube.’

Yikes. His entire cock wasn’t even in me?

I turned my head and looked at him over my shoulder. The corner of his mouth lifted, and that dimple flashed.

Just for a moment.

Apparently I had found my cockroach.

CHAPTER 8

Morning Glory

The next morning, Dorian nudged me awake. ‘Lily?’

‘Go away,’ I said. ‘I’m not ready to be awake yet.’

Good lord. The idea of moving seemed sheer madness. Every part of my body ached.

‘I’m going to work,’ he informed me, voice brusque, ‘and am hoping you’ll join me for lunch and an afternoon orientation session. It’s time for us to think about getting you back into the office. Acclimate you to the new environment. Things have changed considerably over the past few days.’

Tell me about it.

‘OK. Can you just give me a wake-up call at nine-ish?’ I asked. ‘I’ve got my dance lesson at ten, and can be at Apollyon by noon. Will that work?’

‘Excellent.’

I opened one eye and marvelled at the gorgeous man-creature towering over the bed. As much as I adored Dorian, something about ‘Mr Holder’ always thrilled me to the core.

My boss.

Today he sported a charcoal-coloured Brooks Brothers number, grey shirt and the gold tie of which I’d grown quite fond. His hair was tousled adorably, and he had just the slightest shadow of scruff. It looked to me like he might’ve overslept as well. We had, after all, worn each other out the night before. To say the least.

Oh, right. I never finished that story.

Here’s how the rest of our ‘date’ went down: so, after Master Dorian had fucked the living hell out of me and done what I can only describe as ‘ripping me a new one,’ he quickly shifted from post-scene elated into his full-on sweetest Dorian Being Concerned mode, ready to spoil his submissive little waif.

‘Lily?’ He lifted my chin. ‘You can look at me now.’

Rather than wait for him to ask if I was all right, I reached out to rest a hand against his chest, and felt his heartbeat, fast and furious.

We shared relieved smiles and he said, ‘Allow me to worship you, now, Ms Dewitt.’

Yes.

Dorian drew me close, caressed my skin, stroked my hair. ‘Just one moment, love. Time to clean up my dirty girl.’

Wait. Did he just call me ‘love’? Oh, Lily, shut your lizard brain off for a few minutes, would you?

I forced myself to return to the moment, empty my head, to just be …

I lay on my belly while Dorian gave me a gentle, cool sponge bath (remember, I still was all sticky-popsicled up) and turned on a fan so the gentle breeze would cool and dry my stinging flesh. Everything that could smart smarted. Then there was a soft, soothing, light texture, rushing over my skin.

‘What is that?’ I mumbled. ‘It feels like fur.’

‘Feather duster. Ostrich. Am I being gentle enough?’

‘Perfect. It’s so … nice.’ I pictured crawling around his apartment in a French maid’s costume, using the very same duster, and decided I would have to make that happen. ‘Don’t stop, Dorian. Please.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ There was a note of amusement in his voice. ‘What kind of master doesn’t clean up his poor little sub after he went and got her so very, very dirty?’

So, yeah, that was how the rest of our evening went.

* * *

‘Hey. Sleeping Beauty. Trying to say goodbye here.’

‘Oh … OK.’ I pulled myself up and shook my head around, trying to clear my thoughts and become reoriented. ‘Gotta say, look even hotter than usual this morning.’

‘Knock it off.’ He ran a hand through his hair, bashful.

‘Just say thank you.’ I grinned. ‘You need to learn to accept compliments.’

‘Don’t tell me what I “need” to do.’ He paused. ‘All right. Thank you, Lily. Will that work?’

‘You’re most welcome, Mr Holder.’

‘I’ll ring you at nine, then?’

‘Please do.’

Dorian brushed his lips against mine and asked, ‘What did you and Beezus talk about last night?’

‘Nothing,’ I said, which was kind of true.

He must’ve checked his call history.

‘Good. Let’s keep it that way.’ He tugged at his necktie.

‘Or what? You’ll tan my hide?’

‘Don’t tempt me.’ He placed his index finger to his lips, then leaned over and touched mine. I tried to nip his finger, but he pulled away too quickly. ‘Be quiet, Lily. Go back to sleep.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Excellent. You’ll be needing some extra rest.’ He winked. ‘I’m looking forward to lunch. Hungry already.’

‘Got it.’ I winked back. ‘See you soon.’

‘See you soon …’ He cupped his ear.

‘See you soon, Mr Holder, sir.’

‘Yes, you will, Lily Dewitt. Be on time.’

With that, he left me, and – always the obedient girl – I closed my eyes and drifted off.

CHAPTER 9

Meeting of the Minds

So I was surprised to find Joey Danforth, the too-cute-for-his-own-good ratfink, sitting at Beatrice Collins’s old desk. Was he the new assistant to Mr Holder?

‘Ms Dewitt,’ he said, not looking up from his computer. ‘Have a seat.’

Would that I could.

‘I’d rather stand,’ I replied.

Fact is, I was totally beat, even with a bit of extra shut-eye. My dance lesson with Dr Marly Gheiszler stole the rest of my energy – we only did barre exercises, but I was still so bushed from the Dorian Sex-A-Thon that she just about broke me. All I wanted to do was flop down on the waiting-room couch, leaf through a magazine and conk out for another couple hours. Had it only been a few days ago when I was in this same room, waiting for my first one-on-one with Mr Holder?

It felt like a lifetime ago. Dorian Holder fucked away my entire sense of time and reality.

Dude was intense, I’ll give him that.

Though I was dying for even a whiff of gossip, and knew from experience that Joey Danforth held all the cards, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what I’d missed since Monday. Instead, I said, ‘So why don’t you page me in, Joey?’

This time he deigned to look up at me, and his eyes widened.

‘Sorry, is something wrong?’ I asked, though from the way he took in my entire appearance, head to toe and back, I knew damn well what was wrong. My killer new makeover, that’s what was wrong. I had bothered to do my whole hair blow-out, smoky eyes, sexy yet professional grey Chanel suit and my So Kate silver Louboutin pumps. ‘I believe Mr Holder and I have a noontime conference scheduled. Check your notes.’

Ooh. I was loving this new side of me, an act I’d more or less stolen from Beatrice Collins. That’s what happens when you get my best friend fired, douchebag, I thought. Meet Lily Dewitt, Bitch Princess of Agassiz Street and Switched Mistress of Sir Dorian Holder.

Yes, I still was mad at Joey Danforth for throwing Gwen under the proverbial bus. Though she had given me the gal-pal break-up speech on Tuesday and continued avoiding my calls and emails, I hadn’t given up on her as my bosom friend. Not yet.

Besides, how reasonable was it for Gwen to be pissed at me for losing her job? In all fairness to Dorian, she did show up to the office drunk after her last warning, but it was Joey who fucked her over in every sense of the word. Dorian and I would never see eye to eye on his favourite mole, and we had an unspoken agreement not to refer to him.

Joey picked up the phone, mumbled a few words, hung up and looked at me. ‘Mr Holder will see you now.’

‘Excellent,’ I said, and strutted into my boss’s office.

* * *

‘Ah, Ms Dewitt,’ said Dorian, as I closed the door behind me. Like Joey Danforth, he did not look up from the papers on his desk. ‘Have a seat.’

Oh, is this how it’s going to be? Fine and dandy. Two can play that game, and the results would be sexually spectacular, sure.

‘Hello, Mr Holder,’ I replied. I perched on the leather couch and crossed my legs primly. Ouch. ‘Have you had time to look over my notes?’

‘Indeed,’ he said, rose to his feet, and towered over his ostentatious mahogany desk. ‘Can I fix you a drink? It’s five o’clock somewhere.’

‘No, thank you. But don’t let me stop you from imbibing, Mr Holder.’

‘Don’t be cheeky, Ms Dewitt. Believe me, you couldn’t stop me doing anything, no matter how hard you tried.’ He crossed the room in four easy strides and poured himself a scotch, neat.

‘You may call me Lily.’ It was then that I noticed the once empty vase on the glass coffee table was full of brilliant orange tiger lilies.

‘Excellent.’ He sat down on the leather chair diagonally from me, and took a sip. ‘Lily, I’m most impressed with the brainstorming you’ve done today with the writers. Even if your little fingers have been poking into other departments’ pies.’

He waited for this to sink in. Though I knew we were role-playing, a ripple of anxiety – and arousal – made me shiver. ‘How do you mean?’

‘You know very well what I mean.’ He waved his hand in the air. ‘Yes, Apollyon will be more humanitarian, greener and more progressive. This flop of a fitness company is stuck so far back in the early noughties that it’s a miracle you haven’t folded yet. As I mentioned in the conference room this morning, Holder Enterprises, your parent company, has no tolerance for losers. We like to win. Scratch that, we always win. Your thoughts?’

‘Always a fine approach to both life and business,’ I said, nodding, and was startled by the smooth confidence in my voice. ‘Continue, please, Mr Holder.’

‘Very good. Apollyon will be merging with Pahaad Incorporated, who, as you surely know, drove Gaim into the ground. As an aside, they were the ones who leaked the Rodney Yee scandal to the press. Alex Palincort knows how to play dirty and still come up smelling like incense and aromatherapeutic candles. Holder Enterprises bought them a month ago. Alex will be replacing Mr Colossimo after I’m through cleaning house here.’ He gestured grandly toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, as though he were speaking of repopulating the city itself. ‘Since Pahaad is a Canadian company, the merger will save Holder Enterprises over seven billion per year in taxes. Shady, yet cost-effective.’

‘Shady, indeed.’

‘If you would keep this discussion private, I’d be most appreciative.’

‘Vaulted,’ I said. ‘Mr Holder.’

‘You may call me Dorian.’

‘Dorian.’

‘Since your primary confidantes Ms Schneider and Mr Tanaka are no longer part of this company, I expect there’s no one else with whom you’d be sharing this information at the water cooler, anyway. Correct?’

‘Well—’

‘Any questions thus far, Ms Dewitt?’

‘Yes,’ I said, managing to keep my voice low. ‘You mean you fired Jay-Jay, too? He’s one of the best copy writers we’ve got.’

‘Mr Tanaka has chosen to leave Apollyon. His decision. And a wise one, I might add. Any other questions?’

‘Lots.’

‘Fire away.’

‘How did you know who I was at that initial meeting Monday? You addressed me before anyone else, by name.’

‘The night before I arrived at the office, I looked through all employee profiles. Yours caught my attention. Not just your naughty librarian photo, but when I looked over all you had – and hadn’t – done it became clear that you were not being utilised to your full potential.’

‘I thought you were busy having sex with some surfer chick in a VW bus that night.’

‘Not appropriate, Lily.’

‘I apologise, sir.’

‘Then, who should I see on the train but someone who looked a lot like the girl in the photo, staring at me in a rather bold manner for such a mousy-looking thing. Upon reaching the office, I scrolled through the photos and saw that you were indeed Lily Dewitt, who had not only inherited the copywriting department but was coming up with marketing techniques that went far beyond her role at the company.’ Dorian took a thoughtful sip of scotch, then set it down on the table. He steepled his fingers and added, ‘Furthermore, your colleagues were taking credit for your ideas, and you rolled over and allowed them to do so. I had to push you.’

‘You had to, or you wanted to?’ Not sure at what point I had started to tingle with arousal, but the buzz below my navel was increasing in energy and excitement.

‘In my world, there is no difference.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Any further questions?’

‘What’s up with the model train?’ I pointed to the antique train set, which had its own shelf running the periphery of his office. ‘And can I push the button this time, so I can watch it go?’

‘When I was a kid, I always wanted a Lionel train for Christmas. Never got one.’

‘Aw. Poor thing.’

‘Lily.’ Dorian’s eyes tightened. ‘You know nothing of my past, and shouldn’t make a mockery. No, you may not run my train set. Next question?’

‘So the new company is going to be Apollyon-Pahaad?’

‘No. That’s clumsy. We’re going to be Yoni. New image for both companies means new name.’ He paused. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’