Advanced Ballet. Trained since age eight
I fucking love ballerinas. There’s something so innocent and sexy about them.
Leaning back in my chair, I rest the papers loosely in my hands as I picture my omega’s long legs and the graceful way she moves through a room. Her soft curves that hide so much discipline underneath. Her balance and restraint.
I imagine her dancing.
I picture her in the traditional uniform. Skin-tight leotard, tights, and a fluffy tutu; her hair pulled back in a severe, sleek bun. My imagination takes over, and I see hermoving through a dance studio on tiny pink shoes with ribbons around her ankles, her movements fluid and graceful.
In my fantasy, the tight fabric of her uniform squeezes her curves in all the right places. Her big breasts are crammed into that little outfit, the fabric struggling to contain them. They look heavy, trapped, ready to spill over the neckline at the slightest misstep.
Tansy’s face flushed a deep, pretty pink and dewy with sweat, dripping down her temple and sliding along her throat.
She looks so vulnerable, undone by her own exertion, and it makes my mouth water.
My cock swells, thickening rapidly as I keep picturing all that lush softness wrapped in tight spandex. It’s a potent mix of high-class elegance and raw, physical femininity, and it’s driving me fucking crazy.
My cock jumps and I toss away the papers, then I shove my hand down past the elastic waistband of my gym shorts. Desperate to come, I wrap my fingers around my shaft. I start to jerk myself off as my imagination goes wild.
I close my eyes, and I see myself shove Tansy against a mirrored wall, her breath fogging up the glass as I rip the unitard off her plush body. The fabric tears easily, exposing her soft, sweaty skin. Her big tits spill free, bouncing and heaving with her panting breaths.
I grab them, squeezing hard, and she gasps, her eyes wide and wild. I don't waste time. I unzip my pants, freeing my cock, and slam into her. She moans loudly, soaking wet, her pussy gripping me like a vise.
My cock twitches in my hand as I fuck her hard in my mind, my hips slapping against Tansy’s ass with brutalforce. Her tits bounce with every thrust, and I lean in, biting her neck, marking her.
Before I know it, my hips buck up off the chair, fucking into my fist way too fast as I stroke myself, imagining the soft sounds that come out of my omega’s throat, and the feel of her flesh beneath my teeth.
I squeeze myself tight, hissing through my teeth as the pleasure spikes, sharp and demanding. I’m getting into a rhythm, chasing relief, when the sound of heavy footsteps thunders down the hall, cutting through my fantasy.
Warren and Grason.
“Fuck,” I curse softly as I shove my hard cock back into my gym shorts, but it’s a struggle. The bastard is fully erect now, thick and demanding, and it creates a massive, unmistakable tent in the thin fabric.
There is no hiding it.
The heavy footsteps stop right outside my door, followed by a sharp, singular knock before they push it open without waiting. I scoot closer to my desk, dragging the chair forward. I hunch my shoulders, using the edge of the desk to shield my lap, but I can feel the elastic pulling tight against my swollen head.
“Hey.” Warren steps in first, Grason right behind him. They both pause when they see me at the desk, papers stacked neatly, laptop closed.
“Everything okay?” I ask, eyes moving between them.
“Yeah,” Warren says immediately.
“Totally fine,” Grason adds at the same time. “Tansy and Beck are finishing a movie in the living room.”
I look at them for a beat, not sure what they want.
Warren messes with the collar of his dress shirt, then gestures at Gray with his hand. “You can go first,” he offers.
Grason shifts his weight, suddenly a lotless intimidating than his size would suggest. “Yeah. I was wondering if I could take Tansy out for a walk.” He smoothes his hand down his crisp white tee. “Beck mentioned to me last night that she hasn’t seen our gardens yet. I thought she could use some fresh air.”
My eyes narrow, because I knowexactlywhat Grason is hoping will happen. “You're going to take her out to the greenhouse, aren’t you?”
Grason shrugs like he hadn’t thought of that yet, but I know better. “The bees are hibernating this time of year,” the tall alpha says, pretending not to notice the look on my face. “And it’s getting warm out. I figured she might like it.”
I hold Grason’s gaze for a second longer, keeping him on edge. He looks like he might explode waiting for me to answer. “You know the rule,” I say finally. “You don’t touch her unless she touches you first.”
Grason’s eyes widen a fraction. He lifts his hands immediately, palms out. “I’m not trying to make any moves on her. At all. I want to show her the property.”
