24. Tarquin
24
TARQUIN
Turning the three small injections, bound together by a simple elastic band, I stare at the heat inducers in my palm as I contemplate what to do next. They are not only an illegal substance that could land her in prison for years, but they are dangerous as fuck and something I give a considerable amount of money towards the prevention of, and the destruction of the gangs who sell them, and the makers who supply them.
It was the least I could do after learning about Declan’s sister. Most days, I feel it isn’t enough.
Like today.
In disgust, I throw the injections in the top drawer of my desk and close it, so I don’t have to see them.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I feel my stubble rasp my hand. I haven’t slept. Between Tristan’s confrontation at dinner and his subsequent driving off into the night, coupled with this discovery, rest has been impossible. I’ve spent the night reviewing everything I know about Synthia Fuller, which is both too much and not enough. The fact remains. I didn’t want to know. I wanted the mystery. I did enough to know she doesn’t have a criminal background. Or rather, a prosecuted criminal background.
The soft knock at the door breaks my concentration. “Yeah?” I call out and look up to see her standing in the doorway, barefoot and pale after she opens the door. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her posture tense with fear.
“Sir,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I lean back in my chair, keeping my expression neutral. “Ms Fuller.”
“I have been remiss in my duty to you, and I plan to rectify that today.”
“Oh?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought she’d come here to ask where the injections were.
“You require something specific from me, and I haven’t given it to you yet.”
I hold her gaze. She is either damn good at faking, or she has no idea those injections are missing. Yet.
“What would that be?” I ask, my tone low, steady, even though my cock has sprung to attention.
“The purr.”
We stare at each other for a long moment before I say, “Come here.”
She moves forward to stand in front of my desk.
“Bend over.”
She does as I ask, placing her forearms on the desk in front of her.
Rising, I make my way around to position myself behind her. I run my hand up her thigh, under her dress. She trembles as I brush my fingers over her pussy. Slick floods my fingers, and I resist the urge to groan at how responsive she is.
Her breath hitches as I push her dress higher, exposing the curve of her arse. My palm connects with her flesh in a swift, stinging slap that makes her jolt forward against the desk.
I slip my fingers between her thighs, teasing her.
She whimpers as I push a finger inside her, her slick coating my hand.
I add another finger and thrust, twisting them.
Her body trembles as I work my fingers deeper, her breath coming in short pants. I can feel her getting wetter, her omega responding to my alpha even as her mind tries to maintain control.
“You didn’t come to me yesterday,” she murmurs.
“I was busy.”
“Too busy to claim my virgin hole?”
Her words send a rocket of lust straight to my dick. I groan slightly as it presses painfully against my pants. I unzip, and it springs free, twitching, eager. I slide my fingers out of her pussy and over her arsehole. Pressing my soaked finger into her, I hear her muffled gasp as her body tenses at the invasion.
Her back arches as I work my finger deeper into her rear hole, stretching her gently but firmly.
“Is this what you want, Synthia?” I whisper, my voice rough with desire. “To be taken like this, claimed in the most intimate way?”
A soft moan escapes her lips as I add a second finger, scissoring them slowly to prepare her. She’s tight, so incredibly tight, and the thought of burying myself inside her makes my cock throb painfully.
“Answer me,” I demand, curling my fingers just enough to make her gasp.
“Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling.
I withdraw my fingers and guide the head of my cock against her hole. I want what she has offered to me.
“This will hurt a little,” I murmur, my hands gripping her hips tightly.
“I know,” she whispers, nervousness tinging her tone.
I push forward slowly, breaching her tight ring of muscle. She gasps, her fingers clawing at the desk as I ease myself inside her, inch by agonising inch. The sensation is exquisite.
A hiss escapes her as I push deeper into her virgin territory. I pause, allowing her to adjust to my intrusion.
“Breathe,” I command softly, my thumb tracing circles at the base of her spine.
She takes a shuddering breath, her body trembling beneath my hands. I feel her relax incrementally, her muscles loosening their death grip around my cock.
“Good girl,” I murmur, advancing another inch.
Her forehead presses against the cool surface of my desk, a whimper escaping her lips. I’m only halfway in, and already the sensation is overwhelming. The vulnerability of her position, the knowledge that I’m the first to claim this part of her.
“More?” I ask, though it’s barely a question.
She nods, a barely perceptible movement. “Yes, Sir.”
The title sends a surge of primal satisfaction through me. I grip her hips firmly and push forward in one smooth, remorseless thrust until I’m fully seated inside her. Her cry echoes in the quiet room—pain and pleasure intertwined in that single sound.
I remain still, buried to the hilt, giving her time to accommodate my size. Her breathing comes in short, shallow pants, her body adjusting to the unfamiliar invasion. I feel her tremble, her thighs quivering with the effort to stay upright.
When I feel her muscles relax slightly, I withdraw almost completely before pushing back in, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Watching where our bodies join, I increase my pace gradually, fascinated by the sight of her taking all of me in her arse. Her soft whimpers evolve into deeper moans as discomfort gives way to pleasure. My hand slides beneath her to find her clit, pinching it, twisting the slippery nub covered in her slick.
The stimulation makes her back arch sharply, a keening sound escaping her throat. I feel the vibration before I hear it—low, tentative at first, then growing stronger. Her purr. The sound I’ve been craving since I first saw her.
It rumbles through her body, into mine, primal and intoxicating. My alpha responds instantly, a growl rising from my chest as I drive into her harder, claiming, possessing, rocking the solid wood desk underneath her.
“Let me hear that purr,” I pant.
It intensifies, filling the room, wrapping around us both. It’s everything I imagined and more—a sound of surrender, of pleasure so deep, I increase my pace, driven by her purr that resonates through her body and into mine. The vibrations travel through my cock, intensifying every sensation as I claim her. Her fingers curl against the polished surface of my desk, knuckles white with tension.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Let me hear how much you want this.”
Her purr deepens, becoming more guttural, more primal. It’s a sound that bypasses all rational thought and speaks directly to my alpha instincts. I feel myself swelling at the base of my cock, the beginning of a knot forming.
She stiffens slightly, sensing the change.
“Shh,” I soothe. “I won’t knot you. Just feel it.”
The pressure against her sensitive rim makes her purr stutter momentarily before returning stronger than before. I’m lost in the sensation, in the tight passage gripping me, in the vibrations of her pleasure. My release builds quickly, unstoppably.
“I’m going to come inside you,” I murmur. “Hard, fast and then I want you to stay perfectly still for me.”
Her purr hitches, then intensifies as she pushes back against me, taking me impossibly deeper. That final movement undoes me completely. I thrust once more and grip my cock, so I don’t accidentally rip her apart with my knot. My orgasm tears through me, pumping my load deep inside her.
She trembles, her purr continuous now, a steady vibration that prolongs my pleasure as I empty my balls into her.
When I finally withdraw, she whimpers at the loss, her purr fading to a soft rumble. I watch as a trickle of my cum escapes her from her arsehole, running down her inner thigh. The sight is primitive, satisfying in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
“Don’t move,” I command softly, scooping it up and shoving it back inside her.
She moans, and I have to forcefully stop myself from entering her again.
Withdrawing my fingers, I zip up my pants, not caring that I’m smearing cum all over them. I reach over my desk to grab my phone, and I text Declan quickly to come down here. He arrives in record time, probably picking up on the scent of an omega being pleasured. When he walks into my office, he stops, staring at her bent over my desk, her arse on display and my cum seeping out of her.
“I’ve warmed her up for you,” I grunt. “Broken her anal cherry. Take her.”
Her body stills at my words as Declan’s footsteps approach. His eyes are already darkening with lust, pupils dilating as he takes in the sight before him.
He unbuttons his pants, and I watch with a heated gaze as he positions himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. There’s no gentleness in his approach. He drives into her arse in one powerful thrust, making her cry out as he fills the space I just vacated.
“Fuck,” he growls, his eyes momentarily closing at the sensation. “So tight.”
Synthia’s fingers claw at the desk, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. The purr has stopped completely now, replaced by small whimpers as Declan sets a punishing rhythm.
I move to the side, watching her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut, teeth digging into her lower lip. There’s pain and humiliation, but something else too—a surrender that’s almost beautiful in its completeness.
“Look at me,” I demand.
Her eyes flutter open, glassy with unshed tears. The vulnerability in them sends a fresh wave of arousal through me, my spent cock already stirring back to life.
“Good girl,” I murmur. “Let me see your eyes as Declan ruins your arse.”
She whimpers, and it draws Tristan to us, as I knew it would. I didn’t even have to message him. The scent of sex and lust, hedonism, is strong in the air. She meets my gaze, unable to look away as Declan pounds into her mercilessly. The desk creaks beneath them, her body jolting forward with each powerful thrust. I reach out to brush a strand of hair from her face, my touch almost tender compared to the brutality happening behind her.
Declan grunts loudly, unable to stop his orgasm from crashing over him any longer than I could. Synthia lets out a quiet mewl as Declan withdraws, gripping his cock as he knots nothing and makes way for Tristan.
“Destroy her,” I murmur. “I want to see her pain. Her fear. I want her gaping from the cocks she has taken today like the little whore she is.”
“Tarq,” Tristan growls, but he already has his pants undone, his cock in his hand. He won’t deny my request any more than Declan did.
Synthia’s body trembles as Tristan’s cock probes her hole. The fear in her eyes is real, mingled with a resignation that makes my alpha instincts roar with satisfaction. She’s been used twice already, her body pushed beyond what she thought possible, and now faces a third violation, and this time Tristan is going to knot her anally, wrecking her.
And I’m going to watch it, revel in it, before I rip everything away from her and confront her about the inducers.