Chapter 4 #2
His brows lower, and his face pales slightly. Then he spins on his heels and walks stiffly to the trailer, the door slamming behind him.
“What’s up his ass?” Fisher asks, a nail gun in his hand. He sniffs, smelling the scent of our boss lingering in the air, and he scrunches his nose. The scent is mild, but it’s there.
“He’s just stressed. Plus, it’s hot as fuck.”
“Yeah, it is. I can’t fucking breathe.”
I nudge him. “Well, let’s get this done so we can go home. The faster we move, the faster it’s over.”
“Fucking Plato, this guy!” Fisher shouts, and my men laugh loudly. I flip them off and get back to work, stopping only for lunch.
When the men have left for the day, I pull my shirt off and douse my chest in water. It’s only a slight relief from the stifling heat. In the distance, I hear the agitated howls of those roaming the woods. My gaze moves to the thick trees surrounding us.
I see nothing. Just the haze in the air. This heat is only going to make everything worse, I think, as I step inside the trailer.
Arbor’s eyes flick up to me, and his lips part.
“What are you doing?”
I stare down at my chest and shrug. “Fucking hot out there.”
My eyes land on the write-up I’d crumpled up earlier on his desk once more. It’s wrinkled and there’s a coffee stain on it, but Arbor seems insistent on trying to goad me.
I grab it and tear it up into tiny pieces, dropping it on his desk, the bits scattering across his keyboard.
He glowers at me.
“You are behaving unprofessionally.”
“Only with you,” I add, and his cheeks flush. “Stop trying to write me up and just talk to me.”
His jaw clenches. “You were flirting with Leona.”
“We’re friends.”
“It’s not how we conduct business here.”
“Nah, it’s friendly.”
His hands clench into fists on his desk, and he lets out a long breath.
“You seem to be friendly with everyone. Is there a person around here you don’t like?”
I shrug. “Don’t give people much thought.”
“Do you give me any thought?” he asks and then clamps his lips shut, as if he said too much.
I hesitate, wondering if I should give it away, if I should lay all my cards out on the table.
Fuck it. I love a good game.
“Yeah, I dreamt of you last night, your ass up, my tongue inside of you.”
His breathing comes out labored.
“I’m your boss.”
“You are. So what? I still got on my knees for you.”
“Is that how you see it? You’re submissive to me?”
I wet my lips, my alpha roaring. Take him! But I tamp it down. I know how he is when he’s in heat—needy, a complete omega. But right now, he’s just a man, my boss. If he needs to feel powerful right now, I’ll let him be in charge.
“Do I need to prove it to you?”
“Are you soliciting me?”
“Just putting an offer out there.”
He stares at me, and I smell it—that vanilla and sweet amber scent. His need wraps around me. I’m willing to shove my alpha instincts aside if it allows his omega to come to me.
I don’t even hesitate; I just drop to my knees and place my hands behind my back. His breath hitches, the scent of him growing stronger.
I stare at him, my body tingling with awareness.
Then the wheels of his chair slide across the floor, and I see him stand up, his hands moving to the front of his pants.
My tongue wets my lips as I watch him approach.
“You’re not the alpha I expected,” he says, stopping in front of me, a small sliver of skin peeking out from his open pants.
I want to lean forward and kiss it, but I don’t. I stay where I am, letting him direct my movements.
“You’re really going to let me do this?”
“Go on, Mr. Wren.”
He shudders, and one of his hands threads through my hair, tightening roughly. The other pulls his cock out, and my eyes devour it. It’s perfect, thick and long, dripping with precum.
My lips part.
And he pushes inside.
His moan slides through me, and my hands clasp tighter behind my back. I want to reach out, to take, but I don’t. I just let my mouth be used by him. Inch by inch, he enters me until he’s at the back of my throat.
“I know you can take it,” he whispers and then slides forward, down my throat. His hand slides around the front of my neck to feel how I take him, how I swallow around his hard length.
“Oh my gods,” he moans and then pulls out slowly, the tip of his cock sitting at my lips.
“Lick it.”
I let my tongue lap at his slit, and he shudders visibly.
Then he pushes back inside, doing the same thing all over again, holding himself down my throat as I swallow around him before pulling out slowly, asking me to lick him.
It’s a slow torture, but I fucking want it, crave it.
So I let him use me, a slow fucking of my mouth until he starts to tremble, his hand twisting painfully in my hair.
“Alpha,” I hear him say, and my wolf roars inside of me, my knuckles cracking as I try to hold on to control. “Alpha, please.”
It’s my undoing. I let my hands move from behind my back to his waist, thrusting him into me roughly, my mouth making the most obscene sounds.
His chin is on his chest as I take him, bringing him right to the edge and shoving him in as far as he can go, swallowing as his cock erupts right into my stomach.
When I pull him free, I swipe at my mouth, my lips swollen from overuse. My cock is hard between my legs, pressing against my jeans, wanting to be free, to watch my omega fall to his knees and suck.
But I don’t ask, don’t force, just let go of him and stand up. His eyes meet mine, hooded, and his cheeks are flushed.
“Mr. Barrett,” he murmurs, and I run my tongue along my teeth, tasting him there.
“Mr. Wren.”
I don’t stay any longer, my body unable to be in his intoxicating presence with how good he smells. I walk out to my truck and sit inside, turning on the AC and letting it cool my overheated skin.
Fuck, I want to go back in there and impale him, knot him. I want to fucking mark him.
My wolf rages inside of me, so I clutch the steering wheel to keep myself in my seat.
I should put the truck in reverse and leave, but I don’t. I just idle there, my eyes on the trailer. Where the fuck is security? Has Arbor even requested it? I need to ask, need to find out why no one is here patrolling.
But then suddenly, I see Arbor rushing out, his legs carrying him toward me. For a minute, I think something’s wrong, that he’s hurt, but as he flings my truck door open and grabs for the button of my jeans, I realize he wants something else.
“Take it out. Take it the fuck out.”
He paws at my jeans as his nose drags up my neck, panting against my skin.
I help him pull my dick out, listening to him moan as he falls on it, half of his body outside the cab, the other leaning over my thighs. Glugh, nugh. The sounds he makes as he chokes on me, the way his head bobs as he takes as much of my dick as he can.
My hand runs through his hair, those soft blond strands as I let out feral grunts. I want to slam into him, but I don’t. I just let him take me any way he wants.
I slide my fingers down his neck, feeling his thrumming pulse beneath my thumb before dragging them down his back, landing on the bit of bare skin. His shirt has ridden up, and I can’t help but touch that glowing skin, how soft it is, how smooth.
“Please,” he begs, pulling off me for a moment before taking me once more.
I know what he wants.
My hand slips down the back of his pants and down his crack.
He bucks forward, wanting more, and I give it to him. My finger easily slips inside him, and he moans around a mouthful of me as I push into him.
The angle makes it harder to enter as far as I want, but I fuck him with my finger as he sucks my dick, the two of us in a perfect rhythm.
Then I feel my orgasm grow near. It slides down my spine, settling in my balls. My cock jerks, and I let out a low roar as I shove my finger as far into him as I can. He jerks and moans as my release fills his mouth. He trembles, sucking on me as his own barrels through him.
And then he’s resting his head on my thigh, his breathing ragged, his eyes closed.
I can’t help but stroke his head as the finger that was just inside of him enters my mouth.
Fucking delicious.
His eyelashes flutter open, and he looks at me.
“This really can’t happen again.”
“Yeah,” I say, not believing him. I think tomorrow we’ll fall right back to where we are tonight.
“But thank you,” he says as he stands up and meets my gaze.
“For what?”
He hesitates a moment and then straightens his shirt and tie. “For wanting me.”