by Marilynn Fae
The other men are not as careless at the man fucking her mouth. Even the man fucking her pussy senses the change in her almost instantly and pulls away as the others yank the man choking her back and away. They start undoing the bondage holding her immobile immediately, sensing that the session was over.
Someone drapes a thick blanket over her shoulder and the heavy weight of the shock blanket makes her feel grounded and less panicked. Her neck is sore and the lack of blood to her brain makes her lightheaded, but as she struggles to breathe and calm her pounding heart, she can hear the seething anger in Jackson’s voice as he steps back into their midst. She wasn’t aware that he was gone, but that makes sense, she supposes.
He would have stopped everything the moment he noticed the spike in her heartbeat. Jackson is more attuned to her needs than everyone else here is.
“What happened?” he asks, looking ready to murder as he steps up to her and kneels down in front of her. The man didn’t really hurt her, at least not physically, not much more than the usual session would. Perhaps a little more bruises around her wrists and ankles than normal because she had struggled so hard and some pain around her neck. Her fingers shake as she curls her fingers around her neck and grimaces.
His eyes lock onto the marks on her neck immediately and he pries her fingers away so he can have a better look at her. His fingers curl around her neck and there’s a low growl building up from the bottom of his stomach. “Are you alright, love?” he murmurs and it’s the first time he called her that.
She blinks up at him, shocked by the way he says it and the gentleness in his gaze and in his touch. He looks hurt and guilty, like he’s the one who hurt her even though that’s not true. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but she can’t seem to be able to form words.
“Do you still hurt anywhere, love?” he asks and there’s that word again.
He shouldn’t call her that. He’s never called her ‘love’ before and the worst thing about it is how much he sounds like he means it too, like he could actually love someone like her. And then, another even more frightening revelation dawns on her. At some point during their many many sexual encounters, she’s gone and fallen head over heels from him. She literally can’t imagine a future without him in it. She doesn’t want to.
She thinks of how different they are that- how inferior and insignificant she probably is in his life that she starts to feel sorry for herself and breaks into weak sobs, her throat burning, but her heart breaking nevertheless.
He holds her to him straight away, his strong hand curling on the back of her neck, like he’s trying to erase the hurt on her skin and standing up so he can press her face to his chest and sob into his perfectly tailored suit.
His angry growls reverberate through her bones and instead of feeling frightened by the noise, she is relieved by the noise because she knows it’s not aimed at her. The anger is rarely aimed at her.
“You’re okay, love,” he says. “I’m here now,” he rumbles. “I’m sorry, pup.”
She nods against his chest and wonders why he stepped away at all, but then she remembers that there’s always a warm cup of chocolate waiting for her at the end of each and every one of their sessions and smells a a faint hint of chocolate powder on his sleeve. Jackson may be all growly and stern and Alpha Werewolf, but he’s capable of gentleness too.
“It was only for a second,” the stranger sneers and both their attention snap to him.
She supposes it’s true. It didn’t really take too long for her to start panicking or for the rest of the men to figure out something was amiss and put a stop to things. She frowns when she realizes that she doesn’t recognize the man standing just a few feet in front of them, however. Jackson lets her have the last say on who gets to fuck her during the sessions and she’s normally quite picky with her men and he’s- he’s not her cup of tea, really.
Too many tattoos litter his body, sprawling from his neck to his upper chest, pausing at his abs and then continuing down around the v of his hips towards his thick cock. He’s not impressive by any means, but the sight of his cock makes her flinch nevertheless because she can almost feel it stuffed down her throat again, taking up vital space of her body that’s required for breathing.
“I don’t understand why you’re being such a pussy about it,” he says, barking a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes or even his tone, really. He looks mildly frightened, which he should be because Jackson is a terrifying man. “I’m just breaking her in for you.”
“Stop while you’re ahead,” one of the regulars growls. She can tell that he’s seething as well. Mistakes are expected from new customers but he can’t just wander into an ongoing session and expect to be allowed in without permission.
“Apologize,” someone else snarls.
“Not my fault the slave is defective,” he holds up his hands. “I thought the slaves here were all trained. I’m out of here,” he says and tries to shove his way towards the exit, but none of the men are budging, blocking his path out deliberately so he can’t turn tail and run.
Those are all the wrong things to say because Jackson lets out a rumbling growl and lunges towards him. He’s already half shifted, claws and fangs showing. She can see the back of his shirt tearing as he moves. The other man is all talk apparently because he cowers and curls into himself immediately. Jackson pins the other man down easily, straddling him in a position that could easily be misconstrued as sexual if not for the sheer panic in the man’s gaze. He curls his strong fingers around the man’s throat, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
“It’s alright,” he growls, his eyes flashing, teeth sharp and his face shifted until he looks more wolf than human at the moment. “It’s only for a second,” he repeats the man’s word back to him.
The man’s eyes bulge, his fingers scrabbling at Jackson’s wrists and trying to get him to let go.
“I don’t understand why you’re being such a pussy about it,” Jackson rumbles, pulling his upper lip back, grinning unabashedly, echoing the man’s words to him in mockery.
Color is beginning to leave the man’s face and his lips pale from the lack of air. She wonders if she had looked like that earlier too. His eyes are growing red and misty and for a second, she thinks he’s going to cry or piss his pants. Possibly even both.
“Maybe I should break you,” Jackson hums and she doesn’t doubt that he could. It would be so very easy to snap the man’s neck and she thinks she should be more terrified by the thought, but her mind has long since stopped associating him with fear.
“Please, please,” the man gasps. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?” he asks, loosening his hold enough for the man to gasp in a lungful of air.
“Yes,” he gasps. “Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Jackson legs go completely and wipes his hands on the towel, he he can’t stand to have the man’s scent on his skin. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he says even as the man scrambles away from him, heels digging into the ground and kicking out rapidly. He’s gasping in great big gulps and occasionally a ‘sorry’ leaves his lips.
His eyes are wide and it is all-too-clear that he’s the type of man who’s used to getting his own way. No one’s ever done this to him before, put him in his place so thoroughly.
“Doesn’t feel good when someone does it to you without permission, does it, now?” Jackson asks the man as he walks back to her side, curling a protective arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. She leans into his warmth and lets his calm breathing sooth her. “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her,” he instructs.
The fearful man turns his gaze to her and repeats his apology again and he sounds sincere and earnest- or maybe he’s just afraid that if he doesn’t sound like he means it, Jackson would deem it necessary to repeat the lesson.
“It’s-” she wants to say fine, but just the single word is enough to make throat hurt and she lets out a whimper ins
tead. Her eyes begin to water anew.
Jackson looks like he would very much like to attack the man again, but he holds her tighter instead. “Let’s just head home,” he tells her and gathers her into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her towards the exit and to his car, uncaring that she isn’t wearing much at all.
The journey passes in a sort of blur. She blinks and suddenly they’re standing in the shower and he’s rubbing soap onto her skin, massaging shampoo in her hair and tipping her head back to keep the soap from her eyes. She must have made a sound because he curls around her and tells her, “It’s alright, love. Just let go.”
She does.
“I’ll see you soon,” he tells her when he puts her in the bed, wrapping her in more layers of blankets than necessary.
She still feels a little out of it, but nods and watches him disappear out the door.
It is only the next morning that she begins to really think about the significance of what’s happened and begins to panic.
She doesn’t know when it’s happened, but she had begun to fall for him and rely on him on so many aspects on her life. She knows she’s nowhere near as vital to her as he is to him and that frightens her terribly. She’s just a young woman in over her head and he’s- he can do so much better than the likes of her.
In an effort to protect herself from the inevitable heartbreak, she starts to distance herself from him. She doesn’t truly realize how many hours of her day is spent together with him until she stops spending time with him at all.
Then again, she has to admit to herself that it’s mostly sex. They spend the majority of time together fucking like rabbits and she- well, she really shouldn’t just devote her life to getting fucked by him, no matter how good that feels.
With more free time in her hands, she devotes herself to her courses and then she blinks and she’s sitting for her finals.
He has been very patient with her, letting her know that she can take as much time as she needs to heal from the traumatizing experience. He doesn’t know she’s more traumatized by how much she seems to crave his touch and attention by some stranger who didn’t have any manners.
And he’s been giving her plenty of time to.
Up until she starts applying for jobs, internships to make her a more desirable candidate in the workforce, and then she hears back from one of the biggest companies that there is- from Jackson, who is the only one who calls her pup and tells her to show up like its’ not a big deal.
She’s so screwed.
Chapter Four: Interview
If she was completely honest with herself, she had not been expecting calls back from any of the places she had applied to. After all, she hardly satisfies any of the requirements and she will only be a temporary worker, hardly worth the effort of training her for the job if she’ll be leaving after a few months to continue her courses.
It’s only due to one of her professors that she applied to so many positions beyond her capabilities. He thinks it would be a good learning experience for his students, a humbling experience, he says. Also, they won’t pass his course unless they submitted their resumes to at least give of the top ten corporations in the country.
The waiting room she is in now belongs to the topmost one. Truthfully, she’s never imagined herself working a desk job, let alone one with the multi-billionaire whose picture has just graced the cover magazine as the most eligible bachelor in her direct vicinity.
She thinks of not showing up for the interview at all, but she’s been avoiding Jackson for so long and she really misses him.
When she told her friends that she’s been asked to go to the interview, they told her not to bother going for it because she wasn’t going to get hired anyways. They weren’t trying to be cruel, just honest.
She feels really out of place in the waiting room and hugs her file to herself shyly. They’re all devastatingly beautiful and incredibly intelligent, judging from the conversation she can pick up.
Not for the first time, she wonders what she’s doing here. She has no place among the exquisite mahogany desk and leather couch. Even the soft, thick carpet feels too luxurious for something like her. She feels a little bit bad stepping on it with her cheap shoe.
The other women are wearing tight dresses with low cleavage that shows off all their assets in all the right ways, big breast, tiny waist and full hips. Their makeup is thick and looks professional made.
They’re cozying up to the Travis, the man who had shown her into the room earlier. She was surprised to find him there because his name is listed as the Operations Manager in the company website when she was doing her research. She’s fairly sure HR should be handling interviews, but he’s listing their names and making notes in his file and she’s sure that he’s enjoying all their attention.
The women are doing a good job impressing him with their fancy office jargon and big breasts pressed up close enough for him to peer down their cleavage. She feels a little big embarrassed for their sake.
The other candidates can probably tell that she’s not even competition and leave her alone.
Travis looks like he’s having the time of his life being the center of attention for the beautiful women, but he keeps sending her glances and it takes her a few seconds to place him as one of the men who frequents their sessions. The moment the realization dawns on her, heat rushes to her cheek and she averts her eyes quickly. He chuckles upon seeing her reaction and stands up, away from the others.
And then, to everyone’s surprise, he stops in front of her and tips her head up with his knuckle. “Hello, pup,” he murmurs, flashing her a thousand watt smile.
“Um. Hi,” she squeaks and is totally unprepared for him to lean down and press his lips to hers.
“It’s good to see you again. Alpha has been an utter pain to deal with without you,” he says.
“Jackson?” she whispers.
“Yes,” he breathes against her lips. “Utterly insufferable,” he continues, looking a little amused by it. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure he’s in there eager to see you already, so why don’t you head right in?”
She thinks he deliberately let her wait until she recognized him before he lets her in. She’s embarrassed it took her so long to place him. She didn’t even make the connection when she saw his face on the website. She’s more used to seeing him without clothes on.
The others in the room are in absolute shock when he takes her by her hand and starts leading her towards the imposing double door leading to the CEO’s office.
She steps in through the door and her breath is taken away immediately, not just because this is proof right in front of her eyes that he’s a CEO.
Chapter Five: Intent
Logically, she knows his position in the company, knows he’s much more powerful than she had thought possible. But seeing him in person makes her inhale sharply in shock.
Her lungs burn and protest as she breathes in another lungful of cigar-polluted air and she coughs.
“I’ll um- I’ll open the window,” she announces, moving to do exactly that and then realizes she has no idea where the window is. The whole place is made of windows.
He chuckles and presses a button on his table that allows cold air to rush in as several panels of glass slides away. She shivers, glad that she wasn’t leaning against any of those panels. It’s a long way to fall, but he won’t let her fall.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” she says, turning around and then gasping when she notices that he’s stood up and is standing directly behind her. He leans in close, his lips touching her forehead.
He lets out an unhappy growl. “Travis touched you,” he says.
She nods without thinking and he growls again. She jumps when she feels his grip on her arm. He leans in close and inhales deliberately, rumbling low in his throat, the sound so loud that it vibrates through her bones.
He’s too close to her and she has to fight the urge to run away, afraid of him for some reason. Maybe it’s beca
use she’s spent so long hiding from him and has forgotten that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him.
“Do you know why you’re here, Freya?” he growls, his cheek pressed against hers, his grip on her body tight. There’s a shuddering in her core that makes it hard for her to breathe. Her inhales sound too loud.
She fights back the panic in her heart, the organ thumping hard enough for him to feel the pulsing in her veins. “I- I applied for the job,” she stammers, suddenly unsure of herself. “And- and you’re here.”
He leans back only long enough to take another puff of whatever it is that he’s smoking. “Is that what you think?” he asks.
“What?” her brain isn’t working at full capacity- isn’t capable of working at full capacity with him so near.
“You think the only reason you made it this far is because I wanted you,” he says.
“That’s- of course,” she says. “That’s- that’s the whole reason I was even shortlisted, wasn’t it?”
He chuckles.
“Am I wrong?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She blinks up at him, too stunned for words. She’s certain that he’s lying, but the steady expression on his face says otherwise. She’s spent enough time with him to know when he’s lying.
“You thought I saw your name in the list and used my position to keep you in the running,” he says.
“Yes,” she says.
“You’re wrong,” he says. “You’re here because you’re exactly who I was looking for when I opened the position.” He pulls back and takes a long drag of smoke, then blows it out the window.
She watches as the smoke dissipate into nothing. “The position was-”
“It was meant for you,” he says. “Even a fool can see that you are better than all the other candidates out there. This is a job position, not a fashion show.”
She frowns. “I don’t- but their files-” She glances at her own, a thin little thing that’s still cradled to her chest. There aren’t any outstanding achievements in her file, just a few short gigs in various small companies whenever she has gaps in her degree.
