One of Emerson’s brows quirked up, a wicked smile on his lips. “A quickie before we leave for work?”
“Yes,please,”Dash moaned.
Dash waited with bated breath as Emerson angled his big, fat cock towards his hole, his body tensing with need.
After a quick coating of lube, his alpha slid into him with one heavy thrust. Dash’s body had grown accustomed to the nearconstant use, easily yielding to Emerson’s thick shaft impaling him.
Dash smiled, arching his back so Emerson could go a bit deeper and hit his second hole.
“Fuck…your dick feels so good,” Dash whispered.
“It’s where it belongs,” Emerson murmured with a sly grin.
Emerson drove into him urgently, pushing closer and closer to the edge. A fine sheen of sweat coated them both. Dash was just on the verge of coming when the alarm clock on the nightstand bleated out its incessant warning, ripping him from the delicious fantasy. He leaned over and slapped it before lying back down, alone in his bed.
The morning wasn’t sunny. It wasn’t warm. It was a boring gray, like his eyes. It left his bedroom in shadow. Nor was he completely alone—not if he counted the thick dildo buried deep. A latex boyfriend was safer than a real one.
He arched his back and lifted his hips, before driving his body back down onto the shaft he used in the place of the alpha who’d haunted his fantasies for too long.
Dash closed his eyes again, attempting to return to his erotic morning pleasure. Sitting up, he rode the fat cock, moaning at the wide stretch, but couldn’t get back into it. The moment was lost. Already, his mind was thinking about all the work he had waiting for him on his desk, the many emails probably piling up in his inbox, and the investigators he needed to check in with before the end of the day. There was also a visit to the Province Courthouse that needed to happen, and at some point, he’d have to return his papa’s last two phone calls.
That, on top of the guilt for taking a few minutes for himself when he should be getting ready to work hijacked the mental images he’d been painting before the alarm had gone off. Why the fuck did he feel guilty? He continued to ride the shaft,clawing at the edges of the fantasy and trying to get back there. Didn’t he deserve a little pleasure?
According to his brain, the answer was apparently no.
Conceding defeat, he pulled off the shaft and climbed out of bed, carrying the thick dildo with him into the shower. Dash gave it and himself a thorough wash before slamming the suctioned bottom onto the wall and leaving it there to dry.
On the way out, he noticed the time. He’d taken too long trying to get back into the daydream and was now late. The rest of his morning flew past in a blur of clothing and coffee. When he finally arrived at work, the office was relatively quiet. His investigators didn’t make a habit of sitting around the office all day, but there were usually a few doing research or meeting with clients. But not that morning.
“You’re late,” his assistant, Eliott, snapped as soon as he walked in the front door.
“Good morning to you, too,”Dash griped as he looked through the short stack of pink phone call notices situated on the corner of Eliott’s station.
“Morning,”Eliott replied, not looking away from his computer screen. “You have a new client waiting for you in conference room two.”
“I didn’t have anything on the books when I left last night.”
“He showed up this morning.Go handle it, please.”
“Handle it?”
Dash eyed Eliott, frowning. The omega was a pain in his ass sometimes but managed the office ten times better than either of his predecessors—and put up with the weird hours and what he’d been told was his cold demeanor. Lukewarm, ormaybeeven cool, but he didn’t agree with cold. Regardless, Eliott was hard working, even if his social skills were as bad as Dash’s.
“He’s… a lot. Go deal with him so I don’t have to listen to him anymore,” Eliott said, glaring over the top of his monitor.“Otherwise, I’m going to hurl him out the window. I might open it first, but I make no promises.”
Dash sighed. “Definea lot?”
“You’ll see,” Eliott said in a sing-song voice that never boded well. He pointed in the direction of one of the smaller conference rooms.
“Can I at least go drop my belongings at my desk,Boss?”Dash asked sarcastically.
“Oh, look. You’ve finally admitted who really runs this place,” Eliott said, cocking a brow. “Can I expect a raise with that, too?”
Dash rolled his eyes and walked into his office, calling over his shoulder, “I already pay you plenty.”
“According to you,” Eliott yelled back. “The man with zero fashion sense and twelve of the same ten-year-old black suits hanging in his closet.”
“The classics never die.”
