"How long do I have?"
"Twenty-four hours." Her hand slides higher on my thigh, stopping just short of where I desperately want her to touch. "Get him readmitted to Northwood with a clean record by this time tomorrow."
"Twenty-four hours?" My mind races through requirements. "That's—"
"What you have." Her fingers trace patterns dangerously close to my cock. "Unless you can't do it? Unless the great Corvus Stone can't deliver when it really matters?"
The challenge ignites something primal. "I can do it."
"Then prove it." She stands, and the loss of her touch is physically painful. "Work fast, Corvus. Because I'm going to be thinking about what I'm going to let you do to me once you're done."
I catch her wrist, pulling her back. "What exactly does this reward entail?"
"Everything." She leans down, her lips a breath away from mine. "Any way you want me. However you've been fantasizing about having me since the heat ended."
Fuck. My brain is providing extremely detailed scenarios—her bent over this desk, her on her knees, her riding me while I watch every expression cross her face.
"And until then?" I ask.
"Until then..." She pulls her wrist free, steps back. "You get a down payment. Motivation to work quickly."
Before I can process what she means, she's sinking to her knees between my legs.
"Vespera—"
"Shut up, Corvus." Her hands go to my belt. "You calculate everything, strategize every move, analyze every angle. Right now, you're going to stop thinking and let me do this."
She unbuckles my belt, unzips my pants, and my cock springs free. I'm harder than I've been in days, leaking already, and the way she looks at it—hungry, determined, like she's about to prove a point—makes my hips jerk.
"Eager," she observes, wrapping one hand around the base.
"You have that effect."
"Good."
She leans forward, and the first touch of her tongue to the head of my cock whites out my brain.
This isn't tentative exploration. This is deliberate claiming. She licks up the underside, swirls her tongue around the head, then takes me into her mouth without preamble. Deep. Deeper than I expected. Her throat working around me, hot and wet and perfect.
"Fuck." My hands go to her hair, not controlling, just needing to touch. "That's—fuck—"
She hums around my cock and the vibration shoots up my spine. I force myself to stay still, to let her set the pace, but it's almost impossible when she's working me like this. Hand twisting at the base, tongue doing devastating things, her other hand cupping my balls with just enough pressure.
This is what I've been thinking about. Her on her knees for me, choosing to be here, wanting this as much as I do. Not heat-driven or biology-forced. Just her deciding she wants my cock in her mouth.
The reality is better than any fantasy.
She pulls off for a moment, hand still working my shaft. "You're close already."
"You're very talented."
"I know." She takes me back in her mouth, faster now, more intense. Cheeks hollowing as she sucks, tongue working the underside.
"Vespera—" I try to warn her. "I'm going to—"
She doesn't pull back. Just takes me deeper, one hand squeezing the base of my cock, the other rolling my balls, and that's it. I'm done.
I come hard, spilling into her mouth, vision going dark at the edges. She swallows it all, licking me clean with thorough attention that makes my oversensitive cock twitch.
