I looked at her. That wasn’t about Lorraine. That wasn’t about my mother. That was about me, just me, and I didn’t know the last time someone asked me a question that didn’t have politics attached to it.
“The night he died, the pack howled. For hours. Every wolf on the estate, all night. I stood in the middle of it, twenty-four years old, and I was terrified.” I paused. “Not because I was King. Because I was alone. He was the only person who ever made me feel like I could do this. He was gone, and I stood in that sound, and I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do.”
Andrea was looking at me and her eyes were bright. She reached across the desk and took my hand. Didn’t say it was okay. Didn’t say she forgave me. Just held my hand and sat there with me in the quiet and I breathed easier than I had in weeks.
“No more Lorraine,” she said.
“No more Lorraine.”
She let go of my hand, stood up, walked around the desk. I was looking up at her, not sure what came next, and she leaned down and kissed me. Soft at first, careful, like she was testing whether she still wanted this. Then her hand went to the back of my neck, she pulled me in harder, my hands went to her waist. The weeks of distance collapsed.
I pulled her onto my lap in the chair, her legs straddling mine, forehead pressed against hers. Both of us breathing hard. “I missed you,” she whispered.
“I missed you so goddamn much.”
She kissed me deeper, hands fisting my shirt, and I pulled her closer, arms locking around her waist. My hands slid up her back under her blouse, her warm skin making my cock twitch in my pants. She arched into the touch, pressing her tits against my chest, and I groaned into her mouth.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make my scalp sting, and she ground down on me, her heat soaking through her skirt and my slacks. I’d been hard for her since she walked in, but feeling her like this after weeks of nothing but cold sheets and her absence hit me like a punch. My wolf clawed at the inside of my skull, howling with relief that she was here, that she hadn’t walked away for good. I broke the kiss, nipping at her jaw. “Andrea, let me touch you. Please.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me, green eyes dark with want, that dimple flashing in a smirk. “Earn it, Finneas. You think one apology gets you everything?” Her voice was breathy, teasing, but there was steel under it. She was in charge tonight and I fucking loved it. I nodded, hands stilling on her back, waiting for her lead.
“Good boy,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss me again, slower this time, her tongue sliding against mine. She rocked her hips once, twice, rubbing her pussy against the bulge in my pants, and I gripped her waist tighter to keep from thrusting up. The chair creaked under us, the sound echoing in the empty office, city lights flickering through the glass wall. No one else on the floor, but habit made us both keep it quiet, breaths ragged but controlled.
Her hands moved to my tie, loosening it with quick tugs, then down to my shirt buttons. She popped them open one by one, exposing my chest, her nails scraping over my skin. “Missed this,” she said, voice low, tracing the muscles there. “All of you. But you hurt me, Finneas. Don’t forget that.”
“I know,” I rasped, voice rough with need. “I’ll make it right. Every day.” My hands slid down to her ass, squeezing through her skirt, pulling her harder against me. She moaned softly, mouth on my neck, sucking a mark that would bruise by morning. Her lip gloss smeared on my collar, sticky and sweet, marking me as hers.
She straightened up, eyes locked on mine, and started on her own blouse buttons, slow, deliberate. The fabric parted, revealing her bra, black lace that cupped her tits perfectly. I stared, throat dry, cock throbbing. “Touch me,” she ordered, and I didn’t hesitate, hands coming up to cup her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her nipples through the lace until they hardened.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I muttered, leaning in to kiss the swell of one, then the other. She arched again, hands in my hair, holding me there as I tugged the bra down, mouth latching onto her bare nipple. I sucked hard, tongue flicking, and she gasped, grinding down faster. “Finneas... yes. Like that.”
I switched to the other, teeth grazing just enough to make her hiss, while one hand dipped between us, hiking her skirt up her thighs. Her skin was hot, smooth, and I traced the edge of her panties, feeling the dampness there. “So wet for me already,” I said, fingers pressing against her clit through the fabric. She bucked, eyes fluttering, but she grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“Not yet. You first.” She slid off my lap, kneeling between my legs, hands on my belt. The chair creaked as I shifted, watching her with my heart pounding. She unbuckled me quick, zipper down, tugged my pants and boxers low enough to free my cock. It sprang out, hard and leaking, and she wrapped her hand around it, stroking slow from base to tip.
“Missed this cock,” she said, eyes on mine, thumb circling the head, smearing pre-cum. Then she leaned in, tongue flicking out to taste me, and I groaned, head tipping back against the chair. “Quiet,” she whispered, smirking, before taking me in her mouth, lips stretching around the head, sucking deep.
Her mouth was hot, wet, tongue working the underside as she bobbed, hand twisting at the base. I fisted her hair, not pushing, just holding on, watching her through half-lidded eyes. The city lights blurred behind her, the empty building silent except for the wet sounds of her sucking me off. “Andrea... fuck, your mouth. So good.” My wolf wanted to flip her over the desk, claim her rough, but I held back. This was her show. She owned me tonight.
She pulled off with a pop, lips shiny, and stood, pushing her skirt up to her waist. Panties next, she hooked her thumbs in and slid them down, stepping out, then climbed back onto my lap, knees on either side. She positioned herself over me, the head of my cock nudging her entrance. She was slick, ready, andsank down slow, inch by inch, pussy clenching around me. We both groaned, low and quiet, her hands on my shoulders, mine gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
Eyes locked, she started moving, rolling her hips in a rhythm that had the chair creaking steadily. I thrust up to meet her, deep and controlled, but desperate underneath. Every slide of her tight heat reminded me how close I’d come to losing this. “Mine,” I growled softly, fingers digging in, watching her tits bounce with each ride. “All mine now. No one else.”
“Yours,” she breathed, leaning in to kiss me, messy and urgent, her snark gone, just raw need. “But you earn it every day. Fuck, Finneas, harder.” I did, slamming up into her, the slap of skin quiet but intense, her pussy fluttering around me. Sweat beaded on her skin, blouse hanging open, and I captured her nipple again, sucking as she rode me faster.
“Come for me,” I murmured against her skin, one hand slipping between us to rub her clit, circles tight and fast. She shattered first, head thrown back, biting her lip to muffle the cry, walls pulsing around my cock. It pulled me over, thrusting deep one last time, spilling inside her with a grunt, holding her down as I filled her up.
We stayed like that, breathing hard, her forehead on mine again, my arms wrapped tight around her. The chair groaned one last time as she shifted, and I kissed her temple. She was here. She chose me. My wolf settled, finally sated.
She slid off eventually, perching on the edge of my desk to fix her blouse, buttons slipping back into place. I slumped in the chair, head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, tie loose around my neck, her lip gloss smeared on my collar.
She picked up the file she was supposed to review three hours ago, walked to the door. Stopped. Looked back.
“Thank you for telling me about your dad.”
I nodded. She left.
I sat there staring at the ceiling with the city lights the only witness to how she’d just wrecked me all over again. I held the line with my mother, with Lorraine, with the weight of every expectation I’d been carrying since I was old enough to carry anything.
