Chapter 7

Lila blinked. She must have misheard. Alexander Harrington had been messing with her all day, from giving her the impression he was about to kiss her, to trusting her with large amounts of money, and not to mention making her cook a late-night dinner in nothing but a petticoat. She had to be imagining things. But as she met his eyes, the feral impatience and dominance gleaming there, she knew she wasn’t. She hadn’t heard wrong.

“Sir?” she stammered, her voice weak.

“I hate repeating myself, Lila,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes watching her like a predator. “If I do, there will be even more consequences.”

His words rang in her ears: Crawl to me. What was she? A dog?

Yet, despite the insult in his command, she slowly sank to her knees. Her hands met the floor, and she began to crawl toward him, her eyes focused on the ground. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. How had it come to this? Crawling on the floor in her madam’s husband’s office?

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice sharp.

Reluctantly, Lila raised her head, meeting his gaze as she crawled closer. His eyes darkened with intensity as she approached. When she finally stopped inches in front of him, she noticed something hanging loosely from his hand—his belt. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding as she sat back on her heels.

Alexander leaned forward, his hand reaching out to grab her chin roughly, forcing her to look up at him. “You’ve been nothing but naughty all day.”

“I-I thought the necklace was a good choice for your wife,” she stammered, her voice trailing off as she saw the look in his eyes.

“You will not speak unless I ask you to. Do you understand?” he said coldly.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

Her stomach flipped at the words, her thighs pressing together instinctively. There was something about the atmosphere in the room, something intoxicating and raw. It was pulling her in, making her body react in ways she didn’t fully understand. She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice or the power he commanded, but she felt herself getting lost in it.

He released her chin, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling, the movement making the muscles in his chest and arms ripple under his shirt. He was strong—every inch of him built to perfection. A sudden, irrational thought crossed her mind—what would it feel like to touch him? To run her hands over those muscles?

What was wrong with her? How could she even think like this?

“Take off your clothes,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Her eyes snapped to his. “S-Sir?”

His expression darkened, and she remembered all too well that he didn’t like repeating himself.

A part of her wanted to refuse, to stand up and leave before this went too far. But another part, the stronger part, wanted to see where this would lead. Her fingers trembled as she grasped the hem of her dress, slowly pulling it over her head and dropping it to the floor beside her.

She bit her lip, watching his reaction. She hadn’t worn a petticoat this time. Instead, she was clad in a lacy bralette and a short, barely-there lace skirt. It was the kind of thing strumpets wore in brothels to entice men, the kind of garment that women like Mrs. Harrington would sneer at. But Lila had always loved the way it made her feel. Judging by the look in Alexander’s eyes, he loved it on her too.

His gaze traveled from her cleavage, which was now more exposed than in the petticoat, down to her thighs—bare and pale, with only a thin strip of lace hiding the most intimate parts of her. She’d always felt insecure in the presence of Mrs. Harrington’s beauty, but the way Alexander was looking at her now made her wonder—was she, in his eyes, more beautiful than his wife?

The thought made her smile.

“You dirty little girl,” he growled, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “If my wife ever saw you in this, she’d have you fired in an instant.”

“And you? Will you fire me for wearing this?” She reached up, letting her fingers trace the lace covering her chest.

Alexander chuckled, a deep, dangerous sound. “I knew you weren’t as innocent as you looked.”

She smirked, but it quickly faded when he said, “Which is why you’ve been getting into trouble.”

Her smile disappeared.

He shifted the belt in his hand, then motioned for her to follow him as he stood and walked over to the desk. Her heart raced as she rose to her feet, walking towards him, her legs feeling like jelly. When she reached him, he grabbed her roughly and bent her over the desk, pressing her cheek against the cold wood. Her breath hitched.

“I need to fix your attitude, Lila.”

She jumped as his warm hand met her exposed backside. Her lace skirt had ridden up, leaving her ass fully exposed to him. The warmth of his skin made her shiver.

He traced the belt along her rear, teasing her with the cold leather. She could feel his other hand squeeze one cheek firmly. She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.

“Count,” he ordered.

“Count?” she asked, confused. But before she could process it, the belt struck her backside sharply. The pain ripped through her, and she gasped.

“Count, Lila.”

“One,” she whispered.

Another sharp strike. Her eyes watered. “Two.”

Again. “Three.”

“Louder,” he demanded, whipping her again.

“Four!” she cried, louder this time.

By the time she reached seven, her body was trembling, and her ass felt like it was on fire. Yet, despite the pain, she couldn’t deny the strange, dizzying pleasure it brought her. She was breathing heavily, her core aching with need.

When the belt hit her again, she cried out, “Nine!”

One last time.

“Ten.”

Her body sagged against the desk, panting, every nerve in her body on edge. Alexander lifted her up by her waist, his hands still gripping her firmly. Her body burned, her thoughts a blur.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

But what lesson was that? How to buy better jewelry for his wife? She couldn’t think straight.

Then, his hand squeezed her sore flesh, and she hissed. She tried to pull away, but his lips crashed against hers. The kiss was rough and passionate, stealing her breath. She melted into it, struggling to keep up as he devoured her.

And then, as suddenly as he had grabbed her, he let go.

“Get out,” he said coldly, turning back to his desk as if nothing had happened.

She stared at him in disbelief. “Get out?” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Are you deaf?”

Lila scrambled to gather her clothes, dressing quickly, tears stinging her eyes as she turned to leave. She glanced back at him one last time, but he was already focused on his work, his back to her.

She stepped out of the office, closing the door behind her, feeling confused and used.