Chapter 35 #3
I erupt, my release volcanic, a hot, pulsing rush that fills her mouth. A drop escapes from the corner of her lips, trailing down her chin. The muscles in her neck strain as she swallows once, twice, three times, her throat working to take all of me.
I loosen my grip, and she pulls back with a gasp that fills the silence between us. Her jaw works side to side, wincing as she rubs at the muscles. Those eyes, soft with satisfaction, look up at me. I want to lean down and kiss her, to whisper my devotion in her mouth, but I stop myself.
Her thumb catches the wetness at the corner of her mouth, a quick swipe that she follows with a flick of her tongue. Her gaze travels to my covered stomach and lingers. Then she looks down. Disappointment bleeds across her features, subtle but unmistakable, there and gone before she can stop it.
But I see it. I always see it.
I pull out the zip ties. “Now it’s my turn. Hands.”
She stands and extends her arms behind her, a silent gift of surrender.
The willing gesture makes my heart slam against my ribs.
I loop the zip tie around her wrists and pull it tight, the ratcheting sound loud in the quiet room.
My fingers linger on her bound hands before sliding down, tracing the curve of her bare ass.
“You don’t have to do this anymore.” Her voice is soft but steady. “I won’t betray your trust.”
“I know.” I lean in, pressing my mouth to the side of her neck. Her pulse hammers beneath the skin, fast and wild against my lips. “But this. Being bound. Being mine. You crave it. As much as I do.”
“Yes.” The word melts from her lips, surrender wrapped in invitation.
I guide her around the desk and bend her over its smooth edge.
She gasps when her bare skin meets the surface, her body jerking away from the chill before settling.
Her cheek rests against the cool wood, the silver belt buckle inches from her face, papers rustling under her breasts as she gets comfortable.
She breathes in shallow gasps, a flush spreading across her skin.
Her eyes follow me as I grab her chair and roll it behind her.
“What are you—” Her question dissolves into a sharp intake of breath as my intentions become clear.
I rest my palms on her skin, and she sighs beneath my touch. This craving owns me now. The sweetness I find between her thighs and the way she breaks apart when I use my mouth on her. It’s become my addiction.
My fingers grip her thighs, thumbs brushing the damp seam of her sex. There’s power in this, in making her come apart with my mouth, in hearing those sounds she makes only for me.
I need her ready and wet because I need to ride her hard tonight. Killing makes me primal and brutal. I don’t want to hurt her, so I need to make sure her body is prepared to take what I’m about to give her.
I lean in, my tongue teasing a slow path around her clit, tasting the salty sweetness of her arousal. She shivers, hips lifting toward me, her moans muffled against the desk’s surface, until they turn to desperate whimpers. Papers scatter beneath her as she writhes against the wood.
“Please.” Her voice is tight with need. “I—”
I don’t stop until she shudders against my face, release washing through her, the words “God, yes” dying on her lips as a strangled cry. Only then do I stand, shoving my pants down.
I slide my hand between her legs. Her wetness coats my fingers as they trace her entrance. Luna’s breath catches, and her legs tremble as they part wider. She’s ready.
Her body’s welcoming heat wraps around the tip of my cock, and I’m powerless to resist. I drive forward, her body yielding, taking me to the hilt in one motion.
The desk scrapes against the floor. Luna’s nails dig crescents into her palms, her head thrown back as a raw sound tears from her.
I grip her hips, withdrawing almost fully before slamming back in.
The wet sound of our bodies colliding fills the room, punctuated by the harsh rhythm of my breathing and the desperate, broken way she gasps.
“Mine.”
The word rips out of my throat, guttural and raw, torn from some primitive part of me.
Not Damien’s smooth voice. Not the wolf’s controlled menace.
Just me. Stripped down to the truth under the mask, the deception, and the double life I’ve built.
A man who needs this woman more than his next breath. A woman he can no longer live without.
“Yours.” She gasps it between pants, her body clamping down around me.
She rarely says it, usually defiantly refusing, but it seems each night she comes closer to accepting it, even if she fights it.
The word pushes me closer to the edge. I reach beneath her, my fingers finding her clit, flicking in a tempo that will send her over. Her inner muscles clench around me as she comes, crying out against the desk.
I follow seconds later, burying myself deep inside her as release crashes through me.
For several heartbeats, we remain frozen like this—her sprawled across the desk, me still inside her, and both of us breathing hard in the aftermath. I’m reluctant to pull out, to sever this moment where nothing stands between us.
When I finally pull away and free her wrists, she turns to face me, naked and unashamed. She dresses slowly, eyes on the belt buckle.
“Take it with you. I don’t want it here.”
I pocket the grim souvenir. “He’ll never hurt another animal. Or threaten you.”
Luna looks at me, and for a terrifying moment, I again wonder if she sees through the mask to the man beneath.
If some part of her recognizes Damien in the set of my shoulders or the timbre of my voice when passion overtakes caution.
A flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—shines in her eyes, then slides away behind her usual composure.
“I still have some paperwork to finish up.”
Did she just dismiss me?
“Will you come back later?”
She keeps her voice casual, but her teeth catch her bottom lip, and her hand moves to her throat, fingers pressing against her pulse point.
“Do you want me to?”
Her answer is immediate. “Yes.”
I nod and turn to leave. A soft chittering sound draws both our attention to the doorway. Ricky sits there, beady eyes fixed on us.
“Ricky! How long have you—” Mortification colors Luna's cheeks. “Oh, my God. How did you get out of your cage?”
The raccoon tilts his head, chittering again as if commenting on the scene he’s just witnessed.
“Quite the voyeur you’ve got there.”
Luna’s eyes widen at my unexpected humor, caught between embarrassment and absurdity.
Ricky scurries forward, climbing onto the chair I’d abandoned, makes a determined grab for her breast, and Luna lets out a startled laugh. She pushes his paws away. “What am I going to do with you, Rick?”
The raccoon looks so affronted by her rebuff that I can’t help but laugh again, a genuine sound that strips away the darkness of my masked persona.
Luna’s gaze flicks to me, surprise in her expression.
A shared moment of simple joy passes between us that’s more intimate than the passion we just shared.
“He has good taste.”
She shakes her head. “He has terrible boundaries. Like someone else I know.”
Ricky climbs onto the desk, flops onto his back, and perches atop her scattered files like he’s claimed a throne. Luna scoops him up, holding him like a furry, squirming baby. “Maybe he’s the universe’s way of keeping me sane.”
The moment of levity passes, but its warmth lingers.
“I’ll be back in an hour. I want you spread out naked on your bed when I come to you.”
Her breath hitches, and she licks her lips, nodding.
Good girl.