10. Ryann
Ryann
“ S hilo, get in here.”
I’ve had it with him. Had it.
He showed up at the start of the week with a petulant attitude for whatever reason, and it hasn’t gone away since. Not only did he drop the wrong package off at the post office—which I suspect was just to get extra time away from the desk—but he’s misplaced my dry cleaning, uploaded the wrong notes from a dire meeting with a client, and filled my schedule with a bunch of useless shit.
9am: Bathroom Break
1030am: Smiling Lessons
12pm: Practice Saying Thank You
Miraculously, Declan’s schedule is fine. Everything he asks gets done right.
Oh, the boy has pushed me to my breaking point. He wanted to know the consequences, and he’s about to find out. The little brat is in for an attitude adjustment.
Shilo glances up from behind his monitor, widening his eyes before ducking back down. “I’m, uh, ordering more copy paper right now if that’s what you need.”
I needed that yesterday.
“It’s not. My office. Now.”
He hesitates for a second, going still. “Well, would you look at that? Declan’s got a meeting in five minutes. Sorry, Boss, but I’ve got to notate.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Losing patience, I step around the desk and into his line of sight, waiting until he meets my gaze. “Did you not know we can see each other’s schedules?”
His fingers twitch on the keyboard, lips parting as he flounders for something to say. Giving up, he hangs his head with a huff before sliding off the chair. Passing me silently, he makes his way to my office with shuffled feet, and my attention drops to his pert ass behind those dark slacks. He looks absolutely delicious today in a white button-down tucked in and rolled at the sleeves. All pressed and neat. So unlike the baggy clothes he wears outside of work. I want to make him messy.
“Are you going to fire me?”
Shutting the door and throwing the lock, I turn to see him standing in the middle of the room with his gaze on the floor, fists working in his pockets. Purple strands hide his face. I hate when he hides from me.
“Do you think you deserve to be?”
Sucking in a deep breath, he shrugs, peeking up at me as I make my way to my desk without a word. Once seated, I lean back, spreading my thighs and crossing my arms. “Why don’t you tell me what you think you deserve?”
He swallows hard, tongue poking out to wet his lips. “T-to be punished.”
Mm, my thoughts exactly.
“And how should I do that?”
As he lifts his head, a flush spreads across his cheeks, pupils expanding. His breath catches, but he loses confidence and shakes his head before looking away.
The sight makes me angry. Who did this to him? Was it me? Did I mess up so badly that he has no trust in himself? No, Paige mentioned bullies in high school. He also moved from place to place every few years for his father’s job.
Fuck, but why do I care? He’s just a hookup. He agreed to no feelings attached. Just fucking.
Except we haven’t even fucked yet.
“Come here.” I point at the spot between me and my desk, watching as he slowly approaches while biting his bottom lip. When he comes to a stop several paces away, I reach out to pull him closer by his shirt before gazing up into his narrowed eyes. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting out all week? Have I done something?”
Or, didn’t do, rather.
Shilo scoffs, backing away, but he doesn’t get very far because the edge of the desk is right behind him. “I haven’t been acting out. I am not a toddler.”
“No, you’re a damn brat who’s making my life hell,” I growl in exasperation. “This is because I didn’t fuck you on Sunday, yes?”
He sputters, squinting in that adorable way he does while tripping onto my desk so that his ass hits the keyboard. Luckily, the computer is locked, and I watch him squirm while I wait for a response. All he does is get redder, suddenly finding something interesting about a blank spot on my wall as he avoids my gaze.
Heaving a sigh, I lean forward to reach into a drawer, pulling out the object I planned to give him at the end of the day. “Do you know what this is?”
Blue eyes swing to what I’m holding in my fingers before widening comically. “A butt plug?”
The nervous squeak in his voice has me fighting a smile.
“You asked why I didn’t fuck you, and the reason is that you’re too tight.” I can’t even believe those words are coming out of my mouth. “When we tried the first time, I couldn’t fit even after stretching you with my fingers. So, we’ll start with this one and then go up a few sizes.”
He points at the plug. “You’re going to put that thing in my ass?!”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, you’ll do it yourself, but then the idea of glimpsing his little pink hole again has my cock swelling in my suit pants. Judging from his reaction, it’s clear he’s never used one of these before, and it sends something incredibly possessive through me. Of being the first person he tries it with, showing him how to put it in and make himself feel good.
Fuck, it’s powerful. Too powerful.
“Stand up,” I command, voice thick with desire. “Turn around and drop your slacks. Hands on the desk.”
Hesitating for all of five seconds, Shilo scrambles to do as he’s told, muttering curses under his breath as he fumbles with his belt. When two pale ass cheeks fill my vision, I force myself to bite back a groan. He bends forward slightly, breathing heavily, and I take a moment to appreciate the view before my hand comes down on his ass with a smack.
“Ouch,” he yelps, jerking forward before glaring over his shoulder. “You just spanked me!”
“Mm, I did. And I’m going to do it again. Bad boys get spanked, doll.”
A red mark appears on his skin, so damn beautiful that I have to give it a twin on the other side.
This time, when his cheek bounces from the force of my slap, a choked moan claws its way out of his throat. He hangs his head, arms wobbling slightly, and I tug on his hips until he has no choice but to bend over for me, elbows resting on the desk surface. Using both hands, I spread his crease, not even hiding the sound that comes out of me when I glimpse that puckered ring of muscle for the first time in months.
“Fuck, that’s what I needed to see.”
He’s smooth and hairless, my mouth watering to dive right in and feast on him while my cock leaks in my briefs, but I don’t. I have self-control.
Instead, I pull a bottle of lube from the drawer and open the cap, pouring some onto my fingers.
“Have you touched yourself since Sunday, Shilo? Be honest.”
He whimpers when I gently rub around his hole, feeling it flex under my touch. “Y-yes.”
“Starting right now, you will not masturbate until we meet again Friday night. Understand?”
“But that’s three whole days,” he nearly shouts, turning to gape at me over his shoulder, and I raise a brow at him.
“Do you do it every day?”
The flush on his skin is so deep it’s visible on the back of his neck. He turns around to bury his face in his arms, mumbling incoherently, and I press the tip of my finger inside him.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
With a huff, he raises his head. “I said I sometimes do it…more than once a day, okay? Like maybe twice. In the shower and before bed.”
“My horny little doll.” Pressing in up to the knuckle, I finger him slowly, loving those small noises of pleasure he’s making. “No jerking off unless I give permission. Say it.”
It takes a moment for him to respond, and it isn’t until I’ve got two fingers inside his tight pucker that he finally agrees.
“Kay, not til you say. But…mm god, but why?”
He’s rocking back now, thrusting his hips to fuck himself on my fingers, and the strain in my pants is almost painful. It’s been so long since I’ve been buried inside a tight ass. All I want to do is pull my cock out to slam into him.
“Because you need to learn some restraint.”
And maybe the thought of anyone other than me touching him is unacceptable—even himself.
I want all of his orgasms to belong to me.
Fuck, what am I doing?
“Can I come right now?” He whines once I’ve got three fingers stretching him open. “Please, Ryann, can I come?”
God, the sound of him begging is going to kill me.
“Not at work. You’ll have to wait.” Biting back a smile at his muttered curse, I take the plug and lube it up before positioning it at his entrance. “This is a beginner plug. Tomorrow, I’ll put one slightly bigger inside of you and then another size up on Friday.”
He squeaks when I slowly push it in, glancing at me with watery eyes over his shoulder. “I have to wear this for the rest of the day? And all night?”
“You can take it out before bed, but be gentle.”
Once it’s in place, I press on the base, Shilo crying out when the plug nudges against his prostate.
“How….” He breathes hard, rutting against the edge of my desk. “How the frick am I supposed to wear this all day and not come? I’m gonna have a perma-boner.”
“Self-control, doll face. If you so much as touch your dick before Friday, I won’t fuck you.”
Growling in frustration—which is honestly cute—he spins around, glaring down at his swollen, angry cock dripping all over my floor. Actual tears run down his splotchy cheeks, bottom lip marked from where he bit into it. He looks absolutely wrecked, and all I did was finger him.
“Please, Ryann, just—“ His whole body shudders, fingers gripping the desk so hard his knuckles jut out, eyes squeezing shut. “Make me come. Just once, to hold me over. I can’t…”
Jesus Christ, he’s beautiful. Literally perfect. How I didn’t see it that night in August is beyond me, but I see it now.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” I muse, reaching out to lightly trail a finger up the bottom of his length. “I bet this is all it would take to—“
A whimper is my only warning before he explodes, and I barely have time to lean forward before he’s spilling into my mouth. Thick, hot cum coats my tongue, salty-sweet as I hold his hips to keep him still.
“Oh, god, oh, god,” he moans, clutching my shoulder through waves of pleasure, head thrown back in ecstasy, a sight that’ll forever be burned into my memory. I swallow him all, tonguing his slit to catch anything left when he’s finished before releasing him. My own cock is so stiff that it aches, but I love the feeling of edging myself, so I focus instead on the boy in front of me slumping forward with relief.
Shilo buries his forehead into my neck, shivering through an aftershock as he hums contentedly. The scent of his shampoo tickles my nostrils, something floral and slightly fruity. The urge to press my face into his hair is so strong that I find myself pushing him away gently, playing it off by helping him pull up his pants and tuck his shirt back in.
Once he’s decent, we stand in momentary silence, neither of us looking at the other, and I clear my throat.
“As I said, tomorrow you’ll come in here, and I’ll put a new plug in.”
“Okay.” A beat passes. “I’ll add it to your schedule.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I reach for him with a growl, but he’s already gone, pumping his legs toward the door. Without another word, he exits my office, leaving me to seethe as I get up to wash my hands in my private bathroom, still rock hard. When I log back into my computer to finish what I really shouldn’t have paused working on, a notification warns me that my schedule has been updated for tomorrow.
830am: Learn To Say Please
Little shit.
I change the plug out for Shilo on Thursday and Friday, letting him come each time because the sound of him pleading does something feral to me. The taste of his cum wakes me up better than the coffee he keeps getting wrong.
By Friday night, I’m so keyed up that I nearly orgasm while washing myself in the shower, head filled with thoughts of his ass clenching around my cock. I’ve been eager for this all week, surprisingly, and now that the time is almost here, I find myself pacing around my living room, waiting for him like a pathetic schoolboy.
Six o’clock rolls around, and I’m antsy, glaring at my watch because I have to pull overtime in the morning, one of many Saturdays in a row. It’s been so long since I’ve had an entire weekend off.
Without much else to do other than watch the Krakens lose yet another hockey game, I pull out my phone to text Declan while I wait for my little doll to show up.
Me:
What are you up to?
Dec:
Poker night with the lads. Want to join?
A slight resentment has me frowning. Unlike myself, Declan gets his forty hours and that’s it. No extra responsibilities, never on call. I know it’s not his fault—I can never repay what he did for me, but I can’t help wishing it didn’t all fall on my shoulders. We’re twins, after all. Both our father’s sons. It should be split equally between us, the future of CalTek a joint responsibility, but it’s not. It’s all me. I’ve known this for quite some time. You’d think I’d accept it by now.
As I’m typing out a response to him, Shilo texts me, and I tap it quickly, feeling myself deflate as I read the words on my screen.
Shilo:
Hey, I’m sorry but I can’t make it tonight. My dad kinda sprung something on me last minute and I’ll be gone til Monday. Sorry again.
Blinking down at the message, an exasperated sigh leaves my throat as disappointment has me tossing my head back to glare at the ceiling. Part of me wants to call him and demand to know what the hell he’s talking about, while the other half shrugs it off with a vague indifference and pulls up my contact list to search through my hookup options. Just as I’m about to pull one up and give them a call, though, something has me pausing with my thumb over the button.
As much as I need a good fuck…I don’t want any company right now.
Not unless it involves a pair of light eyes and purple hair.
I dismiss that thought immediately, figuring my workload must have made me more exhausted than I thought as I pull up Declan’s message to decline his offer of poker night. I can’t stand his old college friends—a bunch of straight guys with wives, kids, pets. Shudder.
Me:
I’ll pass. No Paige tonight?
Dec:
Nope. She’s going hunting with her dad and brother I guess.
Me:
Hunting?
My brain conjures up an image of Shilo dressed in camo carrying a rifle, and it’s so ridiculous that I snort to myself.
Dec:
Yeah, they hunt their own turkey every year. The trip was supposed to be next weekend but their dad had work stuff come up.
Well, shit. There goes my weekend plans, I suppose. Casting one more glance at the hockey game, I turn off the flatscreen in disgust before pushing off the couch to head for my office. Maybe if I get a head start on some work, I can plan on at least only eight hours tomorrow instead of ten. Jesus. Hiring an assistant was supposed to help lighten my workload, and here it is, just as chaotic as before, having to correct everything that Shilo fucks up. If he were just someone we’d hired off the street, I’d have fired him after that first week. I still probably should. It would make my life a hundred times easier, and yet…
Ignoring that train of thought, I sit at my desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to lose myself in writing a document for Ronin. The unfinished draft stares back at me when his name suddenly appears on my screen via video call.
Grinding my molars, I hesitate, staring at the blinking icon. It’s been months since we last spoke face-to-face, and I can already feel the tension coil in my chest. The last time we talked, he’d barely acknowledged my existence, and the memory of that disastrous dinner back in August still hangs heavily in my mind—right before I invited a certain Uber driver up to my condo.
With a resigned sigh, I click the accept button and lean back as Ronin’s face fills the screen.
“Father,” I greet him with practiced indifference. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Ryann,” he acknowledges curtly, the background of his study at the Manor house coming into view. “I expected the operations review this morning.”
“I’m doing well, thanks for asking.” I smile tightly. “It was just getting typed up when you graced me with your presence.”
His hazel eyes, a mirror of my own, narrow slightly, but he doesn’t engage. “Good. And the diagnostic report for AVA?”
“In progress,” I reply, even as my stomach knots at the thought of the delays. Two months until launch, and AVA is still riddled with bugs. But I keep that to myself. “You’ll receive an update by Monday.”
“Sunday morning at the latest.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.
I clench my teeth, nodding through the tension. “I’ll do my best. Anything else?”
“Yes,” he says, reaching off-screen to accept something from his secretary-turned-wife. “Have you had dinner with Olivia yet?”
The mention of her name feels like a sucker punch.
“Not yet.” My chest tightens with frustration. “I still don’t see why Declan can’t be the one to—“
His stern look cuts me off. “Declan won’t be the one running everything next year.”
No shit. “But doesn’t that make him better suited? He has less on his plate. I don’t understand why—“
“Your job isn’t to understand, but to do as you’re told,” he snaps. “Unless you want to inherit a sinking ship in six months.”
I want to argue that he’s exaggerating, that CalTek’s stocks have never been higher, and that our operating system’s revenue is through the roof. But truthfully, the bitter man is retiring in the spring, and he’s made it clear that if AVA fails, it’ll be my fault, just like everything else.
He murmurs something off to the side before pressing his phone to his ear, signaling the end of our conversation. “We’ll discuss this further at Thanksgiving. See you in a few weeks.”
Just like that, the call disconnects, leaving me staring at a blank screen. The taste of bitterness floods my tongue as I bite down hard on my cheek, and the composure I’d been clinging to begins to crack. My knee bounces anxiously under the desk as my fingers grip the mouse until it creaks from the pressure.
I need a distraction—something to take the edge off and quiet the roiling storm of inadequacy that’s been brewing since I was fifteen. A stiff drink, a mindless hookup, anything to numb the weight of expectations pressing down on me. Anything to dull the ache of a father’s approval I’ll never earn.
I need Shilo.
That thought alone has me inhaling sharply, shoving away from my desk to stomp into the living room, angrily grabbing a bottle of bourbon off the bar. Pulling the cork with my teeth, I spit it onto the ground and take a hefty swig, glaring around my empty condo.
I don’t need anything, least of all a single person. There’s an entire phone in my pocket full of hookups I could call if I wanted. They’d all answer. They always do. KC definitely would. The fact that I don’t feel like speaking to any of them right now means nothing. I’m just tired. Overworked. Burnt out.
Lonely.
With a scoff, I chug a few more swallows, taking the bottle with me to my bedroom, where I crash into a cold king-sized bed and drink myself to sleep.
It’s probably for the best that Shilo had other plans.
Because I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.