Chapter 52
Nika
My hips moved to the rhythm of his fingers. I forgot what I was cross about—each time his fingers slid over my clit all coherent thought dissolved into his knot. The way he’d filled me during the heat. I could feel my insides contract, desperate for his length. That big fat cock that was all mine.
Technically, it’s mine too, Bad Girl chimed in.
Okay. Co-ownership.
Better.
I was about to point out to Conrí that a one-hour lunch break was not in fact endless when I felt his trousers brush my thighs.
“Don’t worry, my love. I can feel your need,” he murmured, his fingers withdrawing to introduce me to what I’d actually come up here for.
I held my breath as his cock brushed my entrance. He moved up and down—teasing, coating himself—before he began to push in. Memories of the heat rushed forward.
This was really it.
He was it.
“Conrí,” I whispered.
Warmth covered my back. The solid width of his chest pressed through my thin blouse.
“Still so tight,” he rasped against my ear, pushing deeper.
I sighed in relief and gripped the polished wood, working my hips back and forth. He hissed. His hands found my breasts.
“Such a naughty girl,” he growled.
He could have said anything. I was too busy trying to use him to get off before my lunch break ended.
His grip tightened—fingers and palms moving over the silk and lace—until he found my nipples and squeezed. I slammed back and impaled myself on him.
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
Don’t break him, Bad Girl sighed.
That only made me want more.
I’d barely turned my head when his breath landed on the bite mark. His mouth moved along my neck—licking, kissing, working the spot he’d claimed. His hands clamped hard around my breasts until I gasped.
I knew I’d pushed him too far when he began to thrust.
Each plunge drew a grunt out of him. The sound of his hips meeting my arse was muffled by his trousers. The heat of his knot brushed my thighs as I gushed around him.
I braced my hands on the desk and met every thrust.
“I wish you’d had time to sit on my face,” he growled, releasing my aching breasts to grip my shoulders. “Wait and see what I do to you after work.”
I clenched around him. Completely involuntarily.
“I’m going to eat you up while you lick and suck every inch of my cock and knot.”
Nasty, yet hot, Bad Girl mused. We should definitely keep him.
We were well past the point of nasty being a useful category.
He was ramming into me hard enough that my thighs kept hitting the edge of the desk. His cock driving deep enough that his knot slapped against me with every thrust. All I could do was hold the desk and breathe.
“But right now you’re going to take my knot like a good mate. Swallow it up the way only you can.”
My eyes fluttered.
He hit harder.
Dug deeper.
His hands moved—bit into my hips and pulled me back onto him.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more he growled.
The growl of a ferocious beast. His black wolf rising through him.
The beautiful stretch of pain came as he drove his knot inside—thick and insistent—and the hours-long tension detonated.
I cried out.
A rough, guttural sound that dissolved into a growl when his hand pressed over my mouth. The pleasure didn’t stop—it rolled on even as his seed flooded through me, and the heat of it made me clench down hard.
Again and again.
His feral grunts pulled me straight back to the heat. To his rut. To us.
I finally understood why people had sex in obscure places.
He pulled me back and settled us into his chair, his knot locked deeper as I sank down onto him.
He sighed. One hand moved between my legs—keeping me on edge, drawing out every last drop. The other settled over my breast.
“I love you,” he whispered, his lips at my temple.
I froze.
His fingers moved in slow circles until I contracted around him again.
“It was always you, Nika,” he murmured. “You’re my bad girl.”
He ruined it all by telling me was keeping my underwear. I guess it was kind of sweet in an unhinged way that he needed them until we finished work.
??
??
??
Lunch was sushi, eaten while locked down on his knot. He’d been prepared enough to keep it in his desk drawer.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to.
When the time came to dethrone myself it wasn’t pleasant for either of us.
“I’ll walk you to your floor,” he said, glancing up from fastening his belt.
“How about you give me my knickers back? I’m leaking,” I said.
He threaded the belt through the last loop before raising both hands in a shrug.
“They’re mine now. And I love how you smell right now.”
I sniffed the air.
Sex.
Him.
“I’m wearing trousers tomorrow,” I grumbled, dropping my packaging into his bin.
“Why don’t we work from home? It’s Friday.” He winked. “That way you won’t need any clothes at all.”
“You’re trying to get me fired,” I said, eyeing him.
“No. Of course not,” he said, frowning as he actually considered the logistics of it. “You’d need to be written up a few times first. Then management would need to discuss your performance issues with HR and put you on an improvement plan. It could take ages to get you sacked.”
“Or I could infiltrate the entire building’s water supply,” I said casually, walking toward his door.
The journey was not pleasant.
My inner thighs were wet from him dripping out of me.
“Wait,” he said sharply. “Don’t do anything rash. I was joking.”
“So was I,” I said, laughing as I opened the door.