He took the last bite of his spaghetti, cleaned the bowl with what was left of his fourth garlic knot, and set his bowl closer to hers.
She understood the unspoken order, stood, removed her dress and draped it over her chair, walked to the other side of his desk and bent over it, her face and tits on the glass, her arms at the small of her back grasping her elbows, her back arched, aiming her ass and cunt into the air. If he’d wanted her on her knees, he’d have told her. She knew a silent order meant over the desk.
He took a few moments to admire her beauty. The graceful lines.
And then he pushed back and stood.
He didn’t say a word, just walked around the desk, unzipped his pants, slicked some lube onto his cock from the bottle at hand, and watched her breathe. Watched her pussy clench even though the lube told her it would be ignored.
This was a damned luxury every workday, lunch with her either beside him or pleasuring him, then draining his balls into what belonged to him.
Some days, she was a commodity, a servant, a fucking sex slave from the instant she walked in the door to the moment she left — blowing him while he ate, then bending over to be fucked.
Other days, like this one, casual conversation before the fucking. She’d be an object from here on out, and he enjoyed the dichotomy. The moment she changed from person to possession.
Two rituals.Hisrituals. His toy. She didn’t choose, she merely accommodated his desires.
He removed the plug and pressed in without pause. One long steady thrust, until every inch of her stretched around him. Her hole resisted, muscles clenching hard, milking his cock in a fruitless effort to push him out. He pulled halfway out and thrust harder before he paused to enjoy the feel of her — tight, hot, and twitching around his cock like a fist.
He held there, buried to the root, and breathed out a sigh of satisfaction.Fuck, this never got old.
He pounded her hard, watched her fight to accept him, to remain in place. Watched her hands squeeze her elbows. He grasped her forearms and fucked her harder. Faster. Shoved with his thighs, pounded her until his balls let him know it was time, and then sank in and held, emptying himself into a hole the men purposely kept sore so it would be hot and tight around their cocks.
Five seconds to catch his breath, and he grabbed the plug before pulling out so he could insert it before she fully closed.
Then he sat and checked incoming texts and emails, saw he needed to return a call to a subcontractor, and did so. He completely ignored her while she put their lunch debris back in the bag, cleaned the imprints of her tits and face from the glass, put her dress back on, and left.
When he finished the phone call, he texted Silas and Kenny,Be in my office at four.
Chapter 6
Boone hung from the bar in his workout room doing pullups while he watched Willow go through her weight circuit. He hadn’t taken the time to critique her in over a week, and her form had gotten sloppy.
“Arch your back and don’t fucking hyperextend,” he barked at her while looking over the top of the bar, and he slowly let himself back down when she complied.
He could watch her all day.
She was annoyed with him, but that was okay. She was beautiful when she got the lines right and the body mechanics optimized. The moment when strength and control snapped into alignment turned her into pure grace.
The conversation in Kenny’s office still played in his head, looping back while he watched her move. Kenny had closed the door to tell them June had spilled the beans, and Willow was asking about the relationship bond.
Kenny hadn’t asked how they felt about it. Just told them and waited.
Boone hadn’t hesitated. “I’m all in.”
She deserved to fully understand what she was getting into, and he’d make damn sure she did, but that didn’t change his answer. He wanted it. All of it.
Silas had gone straight to the power dynamics, muttering about how the pack might respond, and what it would mean for her to carry Kenny’s power. What it might look like when she pulled on his power and the pack felt and heard Alpha authority in her body, her voice. Herscent.
And yeah, that could be a problem, but Boone had already put the word out that anyone who challenged her would deal with him. And if they actually managed to hurt her? There wouldn’t be enough left of them to challenge anyone ever again.
Unsaid so far was the likely outcome from Kenny, because they’d probably lose contact with their wolf for a long while.
They could keep her safe, keep the wolves from thinking they could challenge her authority, and Boone liked the idea of formalizing what they’d built between them. Willow had already changed them all. They were stronger with her. Steadier. The bond would only make it official.
They’d each carry a piece of each other.
He watched her transition from triceps extensions to bent-over reverse flies and told her, “Scapulae. Not your traps. Squeeze your shoulder blades and pause at the top, hold it for a two-count. Slow down and stop just swinging weights around.”
