The thin line between love and hate: Part 2 [OC] [MF] [Public] [Sex at work] [Power dynamics]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ebg0j5/the_thin_line_between_love_and_hate_mf_tease/)

Mid-morning the next day, Braden strode into my office. Clearly on a mission, he shut and locked the door, and then yanked a cord next to my office window, sending the blinds rattling down.

“What… what are you doing?” I asked, taken aback by his unexpected forwardness. I hadn’t even come up with a clear plan on how to avoid him for the next few weeks, given our encounter the previous evening. No matter how smug I may have felt about taking back a small amount of power by leaving him horny and wanting.

“Well… based on how hard you came last night, you clearly have unmet needs. So I’m going to meet them,” he replied, his voice heady and determined. He turned and moved slowly toward me, his gorgeous, wavy dirty blond hair shining under the bright office lights. “Despite what you may think, I actually thought it was hot as fuck that you used me for your pleasure and then left me. I’ve been hard since you walked away from me.” The look in his eyes was predatory, and I don’t think I imagined the quickening pulse in his neck. I felt the tight pinch of my nipples as they hardened under his unyielding stare. He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“Take off your panties,” Braden demanded, his long legs closing the gap between us. “Now.” He slid a hand down to his rigid erection, and began rubbing it through his pants. It was so quiet in my office that I could hear the rustle of his sleek suit fabric as he touched himself. “Or maybe I should do it for you?” he asked when I didn’t respond. I was still sitting there in shock, my feet glued to the floor. He made the decision for me, grabbing my hips and yanking me out of my desk chair, which creaked loudly in protest. He pivoted us so he could seat me firmly on top of my desk. I just sat there blinking like an idiot, unable to move or process what he was doing.

“What the fuck, Braden?” I stammered out. “We’re at work… I… You can’t…”

“I can’t what?” he asked, dropping to his knees in front of me. “Don’t you want me to eat this pussy?” His hands slid over the textured fabric of my skirt and then up and under it. His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing the tender skin of my inner thighs. Strong fingers slid over my panties. “I know you need it,” he continued, rubbing his thumbs in circles on my warm skin. “You came so hard last time that you almost passed out. I know sexually frustrated when I see it.”

I scoffed, but was steadily losing my will to protest. He smelled so good, it was like his scent had disrupted the electrical connections my brain needed to function. And he was kneeling between my knees, his expression a strange combination of arrogant and hopeful.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I protested in a whisper. Hushed voices right outside my office door sent a chill up my spine. Getting caught would end me, I could never show my face at this firm again. *I should stop*, I thought. *Tell him to leave. Take control back.*

But my body betrayed me. The words were right on my tongue and yet somehow, I was lifting up my hips so he could slide my panties off. The softness of the fabric and the warmth of his fingertips against my skin sent goosebumps across my body. Once he had a handful of the purple, lacy fabric, he pressed it against his nose and inhaled deeply. “I’m keeping these,” he said, eyes flashing as a grin tugged up the corner of his mouth. I was exposed, I was vulnerable. It was too much.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he placed a finger over my lips. “No, don’t talk,” he said, adjusting the position of his body between my legs. “I’m going to make you come all over my face now. Shut up and enjoy it.” His voice was warm and persuasive, and his utter confidence had seduced me into complying. The ambient buzzing of the neon lights overhead was a reminder of where we were, but he didn’t care, and I had given up trying. “Get ready for it, Alex,” he murmured as threw my legs over his shoulders. He took one final look at me, smiling in triumph, and then face planted directly in between my thighs.

I gasped as his tongue separated my folds, and as his lips closed around my clit. After several minutes of non-stop licking and sucking, my legs were quivering around him. The desk beneath me was piled high with folders and stacks of paperwork, and they were flying off the wooden surface with rustling abandon as I writhed under Braden’s touch. He thrust two fingers into me, and then curled them so he stroked my G-spot. I whimpered and moaned.

“Shhhh,” he cautioned. “Don’t get us caught.”

“The partners,” I gasped, knowing it was futile to fight. “Everyone else… they’ll know.”

“Partners are at an off-site meeting,” he replied. “Support staff are at lunch. No one gives a fuck.” I missed his warm, eager tongue on me even during the few seconds it took him to respond to me, and I spread my legs wider and bucked up against his face. “More,” I moaned.

And then his fingers stopped, and they made a slick, wet sound as he began to slide them out of me.

“No,” I cried out, clamping my thighs around his arm. “No, no, no!”

“Oh, it would only be fair for me to pay you back for leaving me blue-balled,” he said, almost wistfully. “But unluckily for me, I want your orgasm too bad to do that.” He bent over me and placed a hand on one side of my head. His face was mere inches from mine, and his hot breath hit my cheeks. He held my gaze steady and began to thrust his hips, his fingers moving inside me with the steady motion of his body. I whimpered and slid my hands into his soft hair, clinging onto him for dear life. The intense pleasure was too much.

“You like that don’t you,” he murmured, biting the skin on my neck. “I love seeing you like this. Getting off at work, so daring of you. You know, risk-taking behavior like that is discouraged at Haverford and McGill.”

“Hypocrite,” I choked out. He was keeping me just on the edge. He must have been paying keen attention to the desperate rise and fall of my chest, and the quivering of my thighs. His intense stare and the calculated expression on his face let me know that taunting me sexually, in addition to verbally, was exactly his plan. He wanted me to beg. And damn him, I was almost beyond reason at that point. His fingers weren’t enough.

“I need, I need…” I gasped, choking back words and desperate to avoid admitting I wanted him.

“What,” he whispered, so quietly I almost missed it. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.” His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily as his eyes roamed over me, spread wide open and vulnerable to him. His thumb glazed over my clit, and my internal muscles began to flicker. An orgasm was imminent.

“I need you,” I breathed, out of my mind with desire and defeat. “Make me come, Braden.”

“This time you have to wait for me,” he replied, and he quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled his dick out of his boxer briefs. He was so hard I was amazed that he hadn’t passed out from the loss of blood to his head. He began to stroke his cock, and I watched, mesmerized as he trailed his wet fingers down the hard, veiny length of his shaft, using my arousal as lube.

Suddenly, his mouth was back between my thighs, moving against me. I arched my back off the desk, pressing myself against his face. His tongue slid over me, and around my clit gently, so gently. Damn him, he knew exactly what to do to drive me insane. I began whimpering, pulling him closer into me, and rubbed myself against his tongue and lips.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice broken and gravelly. I mewled in disappointment, but then felt his warm mouth on me again with renewed vigor. He slid two fingers inside of me and closed his lips around my clit, and it was all over. I came in a tidal wave of spasms, drowning in both adrenaline and pleasure.

Braden’s face materialized over mine, and I reached up to grab the back of his neck, yanking his head toward me so I could kiss him. He didn’t move away, closing his eyes so his eyelashes brushed against my cheeks as he kissed me back. One side of his body was frantically jerking as he stroked his cock. He was beautiful above me, lost in the moment. For once in his life his arrogant mouth wasn’t spouting off things that made me want to punch him.

And then he came. He erupted with a hiss and shuddered against me. Spurts of his warm cum hit my inner thigh and slid down my skin, making wet plopping sounds as it dripped onto the plastic mat underneath my desk.

“Oh my God, Braden, that was amazing,” I whispered, realizing too late that I had said it out loud. I cringed, knowing I had just given him ammunition. The one form of power I had over him, my ability to keep him at arm’s length and not let him in emotionally, had vanished.

I didn’t expect the passionate kiss he gave me in response. He kept our lips locked as he circled his arms around me, pulling me up into a seated position. He splayed a hand against my back possessively, caressing me almost tenderly through my blouse. He slid his other hand into my hair and dug his fingertips into my scalp as he kissed me, greedy and insistent. I lost the ability to breathe.

But no sooner had the kiss begun, it stopped. He pulled back and looked at me. I couldn’t understand what I saw in his eyes, but I knew I hadn’t ever seen it before. It looked like shame, at least for the quick second, but then he looked away. His eyes searched the ground for something unknown, and the nervous press of his lips together kept him silent. But when he looked back up at me, I saw longing. I saw words unspoken and feelings disguised. Braden was clearly grappling with something I did not understand. He opened his mouth to say something, wiping his sweaty brow as he did, but no words came out.

The moment slipped away. He was quiet as he adjusted himself and then zipped up his pants. I couldn’t take it, we weren’t done. I dug my fingertips into his backside and pulled him flush against me. He relaxed into me, exhaling deeply, as if he had been holding his breath. We rested there, cheek to cheek for a moment, just breathing. I melted into his arms when he nudged my head to the side and dropped his lips to my neck, shivering as he sweetly kissed my sensitive skin. My heart began to thump harder because I felt things changing. This was intimate, this was connecting. This was more than just sex. He dug his fingertips into my hips, holding onto me like he couldn’t bear to let me go.

The mechanical thump of our building’s ancient HVAC system interrupted the peaceful solitude of our coupling. In an instant, something in between us shifted. Braden stiffened, as though reminded of where we were and who I was. His gaze became indecipherable in a nanosecond. He pulled away, and cool air settled against me where the warmth of his body had been only seconds before.

He looked away from me as he turned and buckled his belt. “Later,” he said, without hesitation or even a glance in my direction. And then he walked out my office door.

“*Later*?” I thought, stunned in place, suddenly feeling the hard wood and papers on my desk underneath my bare ass. “Did you seriously just walk out and say, ‘*later’*?” I muttered, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. I sat there for a minute, trying to collect my senses, overwhelmed with a cacophony of emotions. How could he kiss me like that, *hold* me like that, and then just walk away? What was happening? Everything was upside-down; I had gone through the looking glass.

I couldn’t deal. I tidied myself up as best I could, searching for my panties before I realized he had absconded with them. I had to get out of there, I couldn’t stay. The door of my office shut behind me, and I mumbled something about not feeling well to our secretary. And so I left, befuddled by the events of the morning, but even moreso by the two different versions of Braden I now knew.

Over the next few weeks, and then months, Braden made himself scarce. I was confused, my heart was confused. Had I imagined that what happened between us was anything more than a scorching hot hookup? If I was now just a notch on his belt, why wasn’t he pestering me and being an ass, making me regret it? I didn’t know whether to feel hurt or relieved that he went from full-on antagonistic to barely acknowledging my existence.

At some point I decided that even if I hadn’t imagined it, he didn’t have the guts to own up to what happened. That was bullshit. Also, I was just fucking done thinking about it. I wasn’t a mind reader. I transitioned from confused to annoyed, to pissed, and therefore back into the normal state of mind I’d always had around Braden. That bird had flown the coop.

Late summer became fall, and the days grew colder and darker. Soon enough it was mid-December. Haverford and McGill was a stony outpost in the face of the glittering and magical Christmas spirit everywhere else. Visions of end-of-the-year bonuses danced in our heads and kept us powering through mountains of work. And like an unwanted holiday gift, Braden’s radio silence finally came to an end. The upcoming firm festivities provided too ample an opportunity for him to harass me.

“Holiday Christmas party coming up, Alex,” Braden said as he leaned against my doorframe that afternoon, arms crossed over his chest. I tried not to let the flexing muscles of his forearms distract me.

“My name is *Alexandra*,” I replied, studiously staring at the papers on my desk so I could avoid looking at him.

“Have you been naughty or nice?” he quizzed. “Other people might say ‘*Nice*,’ given how much time you spend on those Pro Bono cases, but I don’t think I agree.” He stroked his chin, as if lost in thought. “I’ll go with ‘*Naughty*,’ because I know a few things that Santa doesn’t. Starting with things left unfinished in janitor’s closets.” I avoided looking at him, but I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me, do you have any scary flashbacks when you smell cleaning fluid? Because I do.”

“Go away, Braden,” I said, determined not to take the bait. I scowled at the papers on my desk, which I had long since given up trying to read.

“Hmm…. Okay. One more thing first, though, Alex,” he continued. I looked up at him and got an eyeful of his smug face.

“*Alexandra*,” I repeated.

“Whatever,” he said dismissively, waving his hand. “I just wanted to offer my condolences over the Martin-Rutherford case. Can’t win ‘em all, right? I’m sure you’ll try harder next time.” He didn’t move a muscle, staring intently at me and waiting for what I’m sure he hoped would be my nuclear reaction to his callous dig.

His words landed like a knife in my chest. I’d been working with the team on the Martin-Rutherford case for a while, and we had just taken a big loss in court. It wasn’t over, of course, appeals and all that. But I couldn’t lie, the loss had stung. I was the only first-year associate who worked on it, so I now stood out to everyone else at the firm for all the wrong reasons. It had knocked my confidence down a few pegs, and damn him, he knew it.

“Fuck you,” I muttered under my breath. A piece of paper crinkled in my hands and I realized I was putting the hurt on an innocent legal document, and not the true source of my frustration.

“Fuck you? Oh, gladly,” he replied with a chuckle. “My place or yours?” His eyes flashed with amusement as he walked over and settled comfortably against the edge of my desk. He wanted a reaction, but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure. Or look at his incredibly cute butt. Instead, I stiffened, rising from my chair. I grabbed his elbow and led him to the door of my office, then placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him out. I closed the door in his face without a word.

His words stung. I decided then and there that I truly must have imagined what I saw in his eyes the time we hooked up in my office. When he touched me with tenderness, it must have been in service of his greater goal: antagonize me and exploit my attraction to him. The nerve. What a dick.

A few days passed, and thankfully Braden was just as busy as I was. We were both struggling to manage the huge workload, so he left me alone. But we had been assigned to work on a case together, so I couldn’t exactly avoid him. And I was fucking irritated by this because working with him reminded me why I had always been attracted to him to begin with. He was brilliantly smart. I loved the way his mind worked, probing all the corners of what might be possible, strategizing and making decisions with confidence. You can’t make it through law school without appreciating fine legal minds, and Braden demonstrated every day that he was in the right profession. It was like watching an Olympic athlete. The effortlessness was incredibly sexy.

The piles of work grew smaller and at long last, we made it to the end of the month. The day of the firm’s holiday party came. I had been looking forward to the lavish affair, which was being held at a ridiculously posh hotel downtown. When I arrived that night, I was mesmerized by the magical display of twinkly lights and trees draped with fresh cranberry garlands. The snow outside crunched beneath my feet as I walked up the final steps to the hotel entrance. I smelled a fresh woodsy scent, and knew that there must be a beautifully decorated Christmas tree somewhere nearby. A blast of warm air whooshed around me and made my dress flutter as I passed through the door.

The entire law firm and their assorted friends and partners were spread out before me, talking in pairs and trios. Others circled around tables piled impossibly high with fancy nibbles. The tinkle of champagne glasses floated above the din of conversation as people toasted each other.

I smoothed down my dress, hoping I hadn’t gotten too wrinkled on my way over. It was a little black dress with a sexy deep v-neck in the front, and some fancy lacework, just the right mixture of smart and sexy. My hair was partially pinned up on the side, and cascaded down my shoulders in waves. I spent so much time working that I rarely got dolled up anymore, and it felt good to look nice. When I spotted a work friend, I strolled over and began to relax. I always enjoyed fancy parties and I wasn’t going to let a certain someone ruin this one for me.

At least that’s what I told myself.

I was in good spirits after my first very noggy egg nog, the alcohol sending warm flames throughout my body. The mountain of appetizers called my name and I took my time piling the nibbles on my plate.

“Avoid those,” Braden said, sidling up next to me as he pointed to some bacon-wrapped dates. “Calorie bombs. They’ll go right to your hips, Alex.”

*Oh no he didn’t.*

Instead of responding, I lifted one of the offending appetizers off my plate and popped it in my mouth, making a show of how much I enjoyed it. Don’t get between a girl and her bacon.

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and biting back a smile. “I’m just trying to be helpful and—”

“—And as usual, you’re being a dick,” I finished.

“You’re so hostile,” he replied, squaring his shoulders and facing me. He was gearing up for a fight, and he looked wound up and ready to go.

I turned on my heel and walked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

But he wasn’t having it. He followed me. “You know what I can’t stop thinking about, Alex?” he asked, lightly touching my elbow. I slowed down and turned to face him. Maybe it was better to shake him off now and get it over with.

“Your excitement over getting some Christmas money from Daddy so you can afford to enroll in a course about how not to be a dickhead?” I said, rolling my eyes. I was annoyed that the quiet hallway we were in was not the location of the ladies room, where I’d hoped to escape him.

“No,” he responded, smiling as he bit back a laugh. “Sick burn, though, ouch. You totally just hurt my feelings.”

“Fucker,” I replied, shoving another bacon-wrapped date in my mouth and scowling at him.

He moved forward and I moved backward, suddenly finding myself pressed up against a wall. His hands slammed on either side of my head, his face mere inches from mine. A slight pink tinge appeared on his cheeks as he looked at me, and the cocky arrogance I’d seen in his eyes before was replaced with something new. *Hunger.*

“I can’t stop thinking about how good your pussy felt spasming around my fingers,” he whispered in my ear. “And how bad I want to feel that on my dick.” His stubbly jaw brushed against my cheek, lighting my skin on fire.

I swallowed my food with a gulp, determined to keep my composure. “Well unfortunately for you, my New Year’s Resolution is to not fuck assholes,” I said, pushing back on his chest with both hands. “Alas, you fall into that category. Now move.”

His hands stayed planted firmly on either side of me, and he did move. But it was to press his body up against me so I could feel all of him, rather than move away. His erection dug into me, thick and hard.

“I know you liked how I touched you, Alex,” he taunted, scraping his stubbly cheek against mine**.** “I can see it clearly now, too. Your breathing is shallow and your cheeks are flushed pink. You keep squeezing your thighs together, like your brain is trying to tell your body to stop reacting to me. Whether you want to admit it or not, you want me, too.”

“You wish,” I said with a huff, dropping my empty paper plate on the floor next to us. And then instead of giving him a shove and walking away, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him towards me for a scorching hot kiss.

*Oh shit fucking hell.* Traitorous, disloyal body!

“Uh huh,” he murmured as he began to grind against me. “That’s what I thought.” His smell washed over me… cologne and clean laundry and something underneath, most intoxicating of all, that was entirely him. My breath grew shorter.

“I like this dress,” he said, running a hand from my hip up to the underside of my breast. “Black and lacy, very sexy. But I’d like it better on the floor next to my bed.”

“Dream on,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out as he began leaving a hot trail of kisses up my neck.

“K,” he replied. He moved a hand up under my dress and squeezed my ass, then began kneading it. I groaned and buried my head against his neck, my fingertips digging into his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, Alex,” Braden whispered.

“For you to fucking call me *Alexandra*,” I growled, stalling. But it was too late. I had lost, and we both knew it. He was my kryptonite, and resistance was futile. I could regret it in the morning. But for how, I was his.

Braden didn’t move. He surrounded me, and everything around us faded away. His clever fingers slid under the deep v-neck of my dress, and grazed across my nipple. He pinched me, rolling the rosy bud in between his fingertips, and the slight sting of pain combined with the pleasure of the tug made my knees weak.

He glanced quickly around us, checking to see that we had no audience, and then shoved the fabric aside, lowering his mouth to my breast. I have no idea what sounds he drew out of me, but he stopped flicking his tongue over my nipple to chastise me. “Quiet,” he said, placing his other hand over my mouth. “Unless you want the whole firm to come see you losing your shit?” he resumed his relentless assault on my nipple, and before long he had me writhing. Nothing got me hornier than having my nipples played with, and it was clear from the satisfied and knowing look on his face that he understood that.

“I hate you,” I gasped. “Fuck me,” I begged, half out of my mind as I pulled on the front of his shirt. “I need you to fuck me.”

“Remember you said that,” he said with a smirk, self-righteous in his certainty. He reluctantly straightened my dress, covering me, and grabbed my hand, pulling me confidently toward the bank of elevators.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ecclwi/the_thin_line_between_love_and_hate_part_2_oc_mf