“That’s a first,” Bianca retorted, deliberately turning away from Van. When she saw Quentin watching her, however, she dropped her gaze, clasping her hands in front of her. The posture looked poised, but Quentin could see her hands trembling.
He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them, intentionally invading her space. When she didn’t back away, he put a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to lift her eyes. He could get lost in their gunmetal gray madness for days and weeks and years. If she would let him.
She just had to want it, to submit. He craved her submission, felt the ache for it coiling low in his belly, pulling him toward her, constantly drawing him in. He could see her pulse fluttering in her neck, her scent rising and pupils dilating when he leaned closer. He breathed her in, letting her pheromones fill his lungs.
He lowered his voice, keeping his tone gentle but firm. “I feel like there’s more you’re not saying. If I agree to this, I will take care of you the way I take care of my pack, and that means you have to be honest with me. So, tell me what you really want from us, Countess. What is it you need that you can’t buy? Because there’s a reason you’re asking us, and it’s not just that we’re convenient.”
Bianca looked like she would bolt, but Van stopped her with a gentle shake of his head, and a big, goofy smile. “You can be real, BB. It was brave of you to walk in here and take a chance. Don’t quit now.”
To Quentin’s surprise, Bianca took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I have had very little pleasure in my youth, Mr. King. If these are my last months as a single omega, I’d like to enjoy them more than I have in the past, and certainly more than I expect to in the future. Your pack seems capable of giving me the kind of sex I crave. I want to feel like a real omega. I want to surrender and be cared for, to stop thinking and just feel andbefor once in my life.”
She stopped again, looking surprised by herself. Quentin felt a strange mixture of rage and sadness at her words. How had no one ever seen this woman for the fucking gift she was? And how had no one ever properly satisfied her?
Perhaps they hadn’t asked the right questions. Quentin never made that mistake. He knew how to get the information he needed. Reluctantly, he moved away from the omega, giving her—and himself—space to think.
“You’ve had the finest education available and been with nothing but top shelf alphas, yet you’ve never been sexually satisfied?” Quentin sat on the edge of the desk, watching Bianca’s expressions shift between embarrassment and arousal. He tried not to smile. “What do you need that other alphas haven’t been able to give you, Countess? How can we make sure that this time is different for you?”
Again, the omega looked like she was thinking of running away. Quentin knew this wasn’t easy for her but if they were going to give her what she needed, she was going to have to become a better advocate for herself. He waited while she struggled internally, pleased when she didn’t back down.
“I need to have my control wrested away. I can’t enjoy myself unless I’m made to submit and I can’t submit unless I’m forced to,” she said in a rush, eyes back on her clasped hands. “Sometimes I like tofight, but I don’t want to win. I…I need you to take it. Don’t ask. Demand. Degrade me. Make me enjoy it.”
Quentin couldn’t fight back the growl that rumbled in his chest at her words. It’s like the little minx knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what he could give her. He felt the sleeping darkness within him stirring, heard whispers from that place he used to go when he’d led his platoon into enemy camps and back out with nothing but corpses in their wake. There was a part of him that could only be satisfied when he was in control, administering pleasure or pain to a body completely at his mercy.
He could already imagine a collar around Bianca’s perfect, creamy throat. She’d be so pretty with her wrists chained above her head. She would fucking love it, the way he would bend her body to his will, the way his pack would learn a million and one depraved ways to make her come.
She could handle it. She needed it. Needed them.
She also needed to understand that this wasn’t a game. Her surrender would be total. He wouldn’t accept anything less.
Quentin crossed his arms, fixing the omega with a hard look. “I’m not one of your safe little rich boys, Countess.
“I don’t want safe,” she snapped back, cutting her pretty eyes at him.
Quentin was going to enjoy punishing that sass right out of her tight little ass.
“I’m not a fetish, so if you’re romanticizing the reformed thug trope, you can lock that shit up,” he barked, making her jump a little. “We’re not performing blue collar masculinity for you. If you want to live out your bad boy fantasy, hire actors.”
“I’ve had actors, Quentin! I want something real! I want you!” Bianca’s eyes widened, and she backed toward the door, obviously ready tofinally make her escape from this conversation. “I mean, I want what you seem able to do. Bloody hell, you know what I’m trying to say.”
Quentin glanced at his packmates. Van was still grinning that goofy grin. Dante looked thoughtful, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“We’ll discuss it tonight and have an answer for you tomorrow.” He stood and rounded the desk, returning to his notes on the evening’s events. “Do you need anything else right now? We should get ready for the ball.”
“Tomorrow? You’re going to get back to metomorrow?” Bianca gaped at him. “I didn’t expect an ego trip from the likes of you, Quentin King.”
“My pack aren’t playthings or bachelorette party favors. I’m not going to risk their well-being just so you can piss off your daddies and have a last hurrah,” Quentin snarled, flashing his canines in warning. “I know you’re used to everyone asking how high when you say jump, but you’re not in charge here. So, like I said, I’m going to think about it and talk with my packmates and get back to you when I’m good and goddamn ready. Now, why don’t you go get ready for your fundraiser and let us get back to work?”
Bianca gave him a look so venomous it made his dick ache. She was just begging to be rutted into submission. Quentin smirked at her, daring her to say another word. Instead, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room.
“Bold move, boss,” Van said, letting out a low whistle. “You’d better sleep with one eye open.”
“He’ll be waiting for her with both eyes wide and a dick harder than woodpecker lips.” Dante grinned, eyeing Quentin in a way that made his stomach clench. “King knows exactly what he’s doing. You’ve done your part, big guy. Let Daddy close the deal.”
Quentin’s dick was well on its way to woodpecker status before Bianca left, and Dante wasn’t helping. He ran a hand through his locs and tried to refocus. Theydidneed to run through the logistics for the ball again. He checked the time against the evening’s plan, making final adjustments, and ignoring his packmates’ ongoing discussion of Bianca’s proposition.
“We’ll talk about Ms. Bonnycastle’s proposal after we ensure a safe and uneventful party tonight,” he said after a while, moving a stack of papers off his desk to uncover the map of the masquerade ball venue. “I want to give the discussion the time and attention it deserves.”
Van snorted. “I can think of a million things to do with our time and attention, and they all start with the letterB.”
