by Kathryn Moon
This time when he shifted, it dragged directly against my clit and I couldn’t swallow my moan.
“There, perfect. I want you to stay just like that for me. If I stop moving, you take over. You can go as fast as you like, but you ask permission before you come. Understand, pet?” Cyrus asked.
I nodded quickly, and he ran his hand up and down my spine. “Anything you don’t want?” Cyrus asked.
I bit my lip, and my head twitched in his direction. “Um…I don’t want—please don’t say mean things?” I’d liked being called a slut or a dirty girl at one point, but now it just reminded me of Buzz and Indy. Maybe it was something I would try again, but for the moment I didn’t want anything to interrupt us, especially not a panic attack.
“Of course not, pet,” Cyrus murmured. His hands reached up to my hair, and he undid my careless bun from lunch, sifting his fingers through the strands before pulling it into a tight high ponytail. I rocked over his thigh, and he hummed. “What if I want to fuck you when you’re done riding me?”
“Absolutely. Fuck me, Boss,” I said, nodding. I was already desperate for the fill.
“No knot though, you’ve had enough for now.”
I blushed at his knowledge but didn’t disagree.
“Very good, pet.”
“Your—your pants, what if I…?” I was already wet, and I didn’t want to ruin Cyrus’ lovely trousers simply by having a good time.
“It’s not your job to worry about that,” he said, giving a tug on the roots of my hair, making me pant and rock faster. “Now, I’m going to be one-handed on this email, so it’s going to take a long time. You might want to pace yourself.”
I slowed my movement at the subtle hint. Did that mean I wasn’t allowed to come until he was done with the email? I was already wet and throbbing, and honestly, a few more tugs on my hair and I’d probably be ready to come.
Cyrus’ thigh bounced steadily beneath me, and I shut my eyes and pressed my lips together, trying to restrain my whines and moans. I focused on the sound of Cyrus’ slow typing. How could he fucking concentrate? I could barely see straight. The man had not missed a fucking leg day, that was for sure.
“Did I say I didn’t want to hear you?” Cyrus growled, jerking my head back by the end of my ponytail.
I cried out as his leg went still, immediately using my own pace to grind against his thigh, bracing myself between my hands on the desk and my heels on the bar of the chair. I whimpered and sighed and groaned as I rode his lap, trying to slow myself down even as the heat in my core spiraled faster.
“Cy—Boss, I—”
“No, pet, not yet.”
I gasped and stilled on his leg at the rude awakening. I was nearing the edge, and I wasn’t going to just get permission to come because I’d asked for it. Cyrus picked up the rhythm when I stopped, and I shuddered and tried to ignore the pulsing of my core, the swelling warmth running through my veins.
I whined as my body began to tingle in warning. Had I ever held off an orgasm on my own? Caleb had edged me at the ballet, but he’d been careful to stop stimulating me when I was too close. Cyrus was determined to do the opposite.
“Boss, I…fuuck that feels so good,” I whispered. It was like a coarse tongue licking over my clit, the lace of my underwear combined with the weave of his pants densely textured against my sensitive sex.
“Keep going, pet,” Cyrus murmured, his leg resting.
When I didn’t move right away, Cyrus pulled roughly on my hair again. My body jumped into motion, more at the drum of desire than his urging.
“Please. Please, Boss, I don’t know if I can—” I whined as my pussy clenched on nothing, nearly at the edge.
“Relax, take a deep breath,” Cyrus said, still plodding away on the keyboard out of the corner of my eye. Was everything erotic now, or did Cyrus have especially beautiful hands? Artist’s hands.
I breathed through my teeth, and the wave subsided for a moment. I tried to slow down again, but on the precipice of an orgasm, it only would’ve taken one graze to pitch me over the edge.
“Hold it down, imagine a weight,” Cyrus murmured, combing his fingers up the back of my neck, digging into my roots.
I wanted to stamp my foot and ignore his orders, hump his leg until I fell forward onto the desk panting. But I wanted Cyrus to see that I could do as he said, and a part of me was curious if I could actually do it. It didn’t make the pounding pleasure subside, as I focused on his instructions. If anything, the sensation was more powerful for being held over the long stretch of time.
I moaned and Cyrus hummed.
“Good, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure if I could answer and maintain control, but thankfully he didn’t push me. I was rolling my hips over Cyrus’ thigh, the slippery slick of constant arousal making the path smoother. The motion was hypnotic, as was the steady pulse of warning running through me, a constant threat that any moment my control might slip and I’d crash before I had permission.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Almost done,” Cyrus said with a truly unfair amount of calm.
My head hung forward, rocking on my own neck until Cyrus pulled up again with a yank on my hair that nearly made me shatter, the lightning in my roots echoing in my cunt.
“Oh fuck! Please, please, please. Please, Boss, let me come, let me come,” I whimpered, body tensing. “Please, I don’t think I can—”
“Up, pet,” Cyrus snapped, hands on my hips steadying me as I stumbled off his lap. “Bend over the desk.”
I plastered myself to that desk like I was a fresh fucking coat of paint.
Cyrus’ hands slid up my thighs, pushing my skirt up over my ass, and he huffed at the picture of me. “Forgot about those garters,” he said. “But that’s all right.”
The glasses he’d been wearing clattered to the desk, and even that sound made me shiver. I was so distracted by the clink of Cyrus’ belt and the zziip of him undoing his pants, that it wasn’t until the fabric of my underwear was pulling and dragging over my clit that I realized what he was planning. He tugged and twisted the fabric, making it rub against every over-sensitized nerve.
“Oh, god, Cyrus! Fuck, Boss, I’m gonna come. Please, please, just fuck me. Please, I can’t…” I whined, hands slapping the glass.
“I’d spank you for telling me what to do if it wouldn’t get you off. Wait until I’m inside you, Lola,” Cyrus said, warning clear. I could still get that spanking if I didn’t get it under control.
A spanking didn’t sound so bad, really.
Control, Lola. For once, my mantra was turned sweetly in my head. I craned to see Cyrus dropping his pants out of the corner of my eye, his hands cupping my hips to hold me away from the edge of the desk. And in the next moment, I released a grateful shout as he thrust into me. I don’t know if I managed to hold off coming until he was all the way in. All I knew was the sudden lightning strike of my climax and Cyrus’ unrelenting fucking.
“Jesus Christ, sunshine, you feel like fucking heaven,” Cyrus groaned, hips slapping my ass and his balls echoing wetly against my clit with every thrust.
I couldn’t catch my breath, my fingers slipping against the glass top of the desk. I giggled as I remembered this was Wendy’s desk once.
“Did you and Wendy have—ungh, fuck yes—sex on this?” I asked, rocking back into his pounding pace.
Cyrus’ rapid bucking stuttered, and he laughed. “Wha-what? No. I—why are you thinking about that?” He leaned forward and wrapped my ponytail around his fist, drawing my shoulder up with his pulling. “I need to do better if that’s where your head is at.”
I was already sex drunk, but I didn’t tell Cyrus that when he reached his free arm around me to fondle my clit. I keened, throat arched, and Cyrus gasped as I clutched around his length as he pumped again.
“That’s it, pet. Suck me into that pretty pussy of yours. I wanted to take a picture of it when I saw it, all red and wet and begging for my cock.”
/>
“Yes, Boss,” I gasped. I swallowed and then gave in to the urge. “Harder, please.”
Cyrus grunted in answer, and I moaned as he did as I asked.
“Come, Lola,” he growled.
Either his timing was perfect or I was a better submissive than I realized, because I tensed and shuddered as the orgasm slammed me flat back to the desk. Cyrus released my hair and pinned his palm to my back, grinding his knot against me, growling and purring until he came in a hot rush inside of me.
“Fu-fuck,” Cyrus gasped.
He went rigid against me and then sagged. He scooped me up from the table, cock slipping free as he settled us back in his chair, breaths ragged and bodies limp. I really was going to make a mess of his pants now. I wiggled to get free, searching the room for something to clean up with, and Cyrus swatted my thigh.
“Give me one second,” he said, pressing a damp kiss to my forehead and then nuzzling down to my mouth, making up for the sex without kisses by feasting endlessly on my lips now. He groaned as he pulled away, head dropping back against the chair. “Give me two minutes.”
I laughed, but when I stood, Cyrus followed, pulling his pants to rest open over his hips. He lifted me against his side, smiling sleepily at me as I stiffened in surprise.
“Let me clean you up. There’s a bathroom through that door, and the aftercare is my…well, maybe not my favorite part of this, but it’s one of them.”
I softened and nodded, relaxing in Cyrus' arms as he took us into the bathroom and found a soft cloth to tidy us up with, his free hand constantly petting and soothing me, scent-marking me with nuzzles the whole time.
“That was fun,” I murmured, leaning into him.
He grinned at me and nodded. “Next time, I want to strip you bare and test that control of yours. You know Rake never once managed to hold off coming for me?” I gaped at Cyrus, and he laughed. “Rake likes to play the brat. But you…you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
I shivered and swallowed hard at that, something silky and dark running over me, a kind of satisfaction I’d never run into before. I nodded, and Cyrus smiled and leaned forward, kissing my forehead.
“I thought so, pet. Maybe soon I’ll make Rake watch us, show him how perfectly you behave for me?”
Had I not just come twice? I was pretty sure I had. But if Cyrus told me to get down on my knees for him in that moment, I absolutely would have. Even if he told me he was going to make me hold off my orgasm for twice as long.
“I’d like that,” I said, my face hot.
Cyrus opened his mouth to answer when a knocking on the office door made us both pause.
“Oh! It’s Matthieu,” I said, grinning and feeling Matthieu’s affectionate irritation burning in my chest.
Cyrus laughed and hurried to let my alpha into the office, fastening his pants on the way.
“You asshole,” Matthieu growled at him, barely restraining a smile as the door opened. “You couldn’t have warned me? I was so hard through that entire meeting, I had to cut it short. Lola, come here.”
I hurried to Matthieu’s side, gasping as he dove in for a rough and desperate kiss, pulling me close and grinding against me. Just as I was clutching closer, Matthieu sighed and pulled away, dropping his forehead to mine.
“Do you want to wait until we get home where I can make love to you properly, or do you want to show Cyrus how beautiful you look with my cock in your mouth?” Matthieu growled.
There was a possessive edge running in the bond like nails scratching lightly down my arm, but it was affectionate rather than angry. Matthieu liked the feeling of what had happened between Cyrus and I, but he didn’t want to be left out.
I gripped his belt and unthreaded it slowly, smiling as Matthieu’s eyes widened with surprise. He hadn’t expected me to take the bait?
“Fuck,” he sighed, and his cock jumped under my hand as I cupped it through his pants.
Cyrus moved to the couch, spreading out and grinning at the pair of us. “Carry on,” he said. “I was planning on watching a movie later, but this will be better.”
I sank to my knees and Matthieu moaned, brow furrowing and chest panting.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t?” I asked, gazing up at Matthieu.
“You are all of my favorite dreams, Lolotte,” Matthieu murmured. Then he flashed his grin and reached for my ponytail, taking a commanding grip. His voice lowered to a growl, and his eyes hooded. “Now show me how much you missed me today.”
Twenty-Two
Leo
My knee jiggled erratically, heel popping against the carpeted floor of the waiting room. Caleb sat on my left, sketching in a notebook filled with fabric swatches and paint chips, seemingly unaware of my anxious mood. Or so I thought, until the woman sitting across from us sighed heavily and eyed my bouncing leg.
Caleb rested his pencil in the heart of his notebook and set his hand down over my knee. He didn’t press, but some of his calm flooded me and I sagged, leaning into his shoulder.
“You aren’t worried at all?” I asked in a whisper. Caleb frowned and tilted his head in question. “It’s just…therapy can be a rough process. She might backslide a bit.”
“She might,” Caleb said, nodding. “But she’s still part of us now. Wes and Matthieu will be there to shore her up when doubts creep in again. I don’t think Lola was careless when she made the choice to bond them.”
I grunted and slouched, staring down at my own lap. No, Lola seemed happy to be bonded. To Matthieu. And Wes.
“You’re jealous?” Caleb whispered in surprise. “I thought you wanted—”
“I do. I am…I’m glad she’s bonded. That she’s my packmate,” I said, with a slightly sour note to the last word.
Caleb sighed and lifted his hand from my knee, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Leo, Lola loves you. You’re more than her packmate. And so is Rake. And so am I,” Caleb murmured.
“Then why haven’t you asked her yet?” I asked. “Or why hasn’t she asked you?”
Caleb’s lips twitched, and it actually annoyed me how easy going he was about this. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I couldn’t help feeling like I’d brought Lola into the folds of this pack and now she was slipping out of my reach. It was selfish, not to mention kind of dumb. Lola had spent a couple nights with Matthieu and Wes while their bonds solidified, but she’d joined Rake and me the night before, and I’d heard her in the shower this morning with Caleb.
“If you were an alpha, you and Lola would’ve been bonded weeks ago,” Caleb said.
I nodded. That was true. I would’ve been borderline pushy about it too, so it was probably for the best that I wasn’t an alpha.
“I’m ready, Leo. When she is. And I’m not her therapist, but I think Lola may find it reassuring for her first bonds to be between herself and her alpha alone. Or easier to acclimate, maybe?” Caleb shrugged. “The change in Wes alone…”
I smiled at that and rolled some of the tension out of my shoulders. That was true. Wes was basically bouncing on his toes these days, a new goofy grin on his face I’d rarely seen before.
“I plan on forming a bond with Lola, but it’s only been five days since she came back home,” Caleb said, catching my eye and smirking. “Don’t you think we can be a little more patient than that?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Yes, fine.”
“I think you’re catching some of Rake’s impatience,” Caleb added. Which was true, Rake was like an ant-hill in my chest, teeming eagerly as he waited for Lola to claim one of his alphas.
If she picks Cyrus first, I swear to god, I’ll make one of the other alphas bite me just to—
“Doesn’t it drive you mad to be waiting out here and not know how she’s doing?” I asked Caleb.
He blinked and tilted his head in thought. “I…I was more nervous when I didn’t know if she was interested in me, I think. Now I can just relax and let things happen. Anyway, I think the reason we’re here and Matt or Wes are
n’t is because there isn’t a bond yet. We can give her more privacy as she starts this process.”
I cracked my knuckles, caught the glare of the woman waiting, and then quickly settled again. I hadn’t considered that, and I’d seen the grimace of acceptance Matthieu had worn when Lola had told him she’d wanted us to be the ones waiting on her.
“She’s ours, Leo,” Caleb said softly.
“She is.” And Caleb was right, I could wait a little longer for the bond. Lola was more than judicious with her affections throughout the whole pack. It wasn’t attention I was lacking, it was just that larger claim on her I was greedy for.
Caleb lifted his free hand and twisted his wrist to glance at his watch. “They’ll be finishing up now,” he said. “I’ll go settle things at the front desk.”
“She said she wants to pay,” I said.
Caleb only made a soft ‘pft’ of refusal and then rose, heading toward the receptionist’s desk. Sure enough, a moment later the door to the therapist’s office opened. Lola appeared, eyes red rimmed and steps a little unsteady, and I jumped up from my seat, crossing to meet her.
“I’ll see you next week, Lola,” said Dr. Goulden, a middle-aged woman with a gentle tone and faded red twist of hair.
“Thank you,” Lola said with a quick glance over her shoulder. She didn’t really look grateful, and anger twisted together with worry in my gut.
“All set,” Caleb called, and Lola nodded, not even asking about the bill, but seeming relieved to make her way out of the office.
Are you all right? was on the tip of my tongue, but the answer was obvious. She was not.
“Do you want to find a different therapist?” I asked immediately.
Lola’s head raised, and Caleb choked on a laugh as he helped her into her coat.
“What? Why would I change?”
“You…you’re upset,” I said, grimacing at my weak reasoning.
Lola’s lips curled in a smile and she leaned into my chest, reaching up for a kiss I was only too happy to bend and grant her.
