Chapter Eighteen
Charlotte
The outfit they've selected for her first day at the office is something they must have known she'd feel comfortable in.
It's something she would've selected for herself.
There's a midi length pencil skirt in a soft charcoal lambswool paired with a cream-coloured silk blouse waiting for her, along with a set of thigh high pantyhose and a pair of Italian leather mules.
It's understated and comfortable and sophisticated, and costs more than everything she owns combined, she knows.
She fights the urge to hide, feeling a crimson-coloured blush heating her whole front as she walks through the halls of her old office and feels the eyes of all her previous coworkers on her as she trails after her bosses.
Did they know? They must be able to smell them on her.
They must think her so cheap and tawdry, sleeping her way to the top.
Before she can let the shame scald her, Silas is there. His hand politely resting on the small of her back, the heat radiating into her flesh in a reassuring touch. It is light and innocuous, but she can feel the claim in it, can feel the comfort he urges into her body through the contact.
"This is your desk," Tomas says in a commanding tone which brooks no arguments.
It is a beautifully carved rosewood desk with a pink velour tufted chair sitting behind it.
The desk is placed in the mouth of the hallway that leads to the three of their offices, a place clearly designated for a secretary but has been empty as long as she was there.
She had always wondered why the three of them had not had a secretary.
The desk has an array of office supplies on it, including what looks like multiple colours of glitter pens, and she wonders if they let Alex do the ordering for her new position's office supplies. Sitting in the centre of it is a brand-new rose gold MacBook Air, catching her breath.
She sees all the eyes that had been staring at her from the milling workers avert as Silas, Tomas, and Alex surround her, meeting gawking eyes with cold glares.
"Of course," she says quickly. "What should I focus on first? Will I be taking your calls or–"
"Do some work on your own projects for now," Tomas says, glancing down at his watch. "We'll collect you for lunch at 11:30. Good day, Ms. Hines."
A clear dismissal, her three alphas make their way into their own individual offices. She sees Alex smirk at her as he goes, his eyes raking over her breasts before he saunters off and leaves her with a blush staining an even darker red on her cheeks.
The MacBook Air boots up, and it seems they have already connected her Apple ID to the machine. Because it displays the exact same desktop as the ancient laptop sitting back at their house, complete with fourteen folders containing all the little side projects she has on the go right now.
She's two hours into collating a manuscript when Tomas strolls by, a portfolio in his hand. He nods at her, his eyes lingering just a second too long before he breezes past. "I'll be back this afternoon. Good day, Ms. Hines."
She barely has time to collect her thoughts and begin to open a few more manuscript photos before an email pops up on her screen a few minutes later.
From: abutler@
To: Charlotte Hines
Subject: While boss daddy's away...
IMG_4086.jpg
She clicks the link to the attached photo, heat immediately filling her body as soon as it loads on her screen. It is a picture of Alex sitting at his desk, his pants unzipped and his hand around his erection, the door in the background of the photo just slightly ajar.
She whips her head around and sees that same door sitting just barely open. Alex's hard cock is just a few feet away from her, with nothing separating them except a length of space which she could cover in mere seconds if she ran...
Her head swims as desire warms her body, unable to stop the moisture from pooling between her legs.
Her slick, not yet scented with an omega's individual perfume, still scents the air lightly.
Warm and heady, the pheromones filling the space and announcing an omega in need.
Any alpha who walked by would be able to smell it immediately.
Anxiety flutters in her chest, her heart jumping when another door behind her swings open, hitting the wall with a resounding thud.
"Ms. Hines," comes Silas’ snapping voice. "I need to see you in my office immediately."
She jumps to her feet, scurrying to obey. Before she can pass the threshold, Alex's door is swinging wider too, his face looking half wild as he thunders after them.
"Quite right," he mutters, crowding in behind her, herding her into Silas’ office and closing the door firmly behind them with a click.
She's seen this office countless times. She knows the classic mid-century modern couch in supple brown leather sitting against the wall. She's poured him drinks at the bar cabinet next to it. And she is very familiar with the stately teak desk in front of the window, always pristinely organized.
Alex walks behind the desk, one hand in his pocket, the other grasping the outline of his erection that is obscenely evident through his pants. He groans as he squeezes the base where she can see his knot beginning to swell.
"Ms. Hines, you smell–" Silas says, his voice stern and rich. He breathes in a deep breath through his nose as he gestures for her to sit in one of the chairs before his desk and paces beside her. "–like a needy omega. Please explain yourself."
She wrings her hands in front of her as she takes the proffered seat.
Her eyes flit between Silas, his eyes sharp and predatory yet his face set in an expression of collegial politeness, and Alex, who is sliding his palm up and down over his erection as he stares at her like a wolf staring at its dinner.
"I, um–" She stammers, her hands wringing harder. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sterling, it won't happen again–"
"Oh, it certainly will, Ms. Hines," Silas purrs as he prowls towards her, circling around behind her.
"But we can't have our girl walking around the office smelling like slick," he scolds, and then he nudges her up out of the chair and presses her forwards a couple stumbling steps until his hands guide her to bend over his desk.
She acquiesces, stretching across it so her face is right on the edge, level with Alex's cock.
She can smell the enticing musk of him, can see the outline of his cock, hard and straining against his pants where he is still fondling himself.
"Your sweet slick belongs to us, Ms. Hines.
No one else can smell it. Do you understand? "
"Yes," she says, her voice high and needy. "I understand, Mr. Sterling."
"Good girl," he says. "You left me hard this morning after I watched your alpha fuck you in our bed. That isn't right, is it, Ms. Hines?"
"No, Mr. Sterling," she whimpers, and she feels her breath catch.
"But if I fuck your pretty pussy, I'll get your slick all over my cock, won't I?"
He grinds his erection into the soft flesh of her ass and she squirms, needing more friction between her legs.
"Yes, Mr. Sterling," she whines. She thinks she'd acquiesce to anything he said if he would just touch her again.
He clucks his tongue at her in reproval. "And we cannot have that. Anyone who enters this office would be able to smell it on me. Very unprofessional, Ms. Hines."
He leans over so his front is pressed against her back, the whole length of him covering her. She presses back against him, panting with need. His mouth is right next to her ear, his voice soft and gentle as he whispers his next words to her that make her freeze.
"Then I guess I'm going to have to fuck your sweet little virgin ass, won't I, Ms. Hines?"
She whines out a desperate sound. Would he actually do that? Fuck her there? Was that something they wanted? Would it hurt?
Her frantic mind's thoughts are halted when Alex crouches down in front of the table, his face now in front of hers. His gaze is hot but gentle as he checks in with her. "What do you think about that, baby? Do you want to let your daddy fuck your ass?"
All she can do is whine. She's sure she's dripping slick on the desk and she squirms, trying to grind her clit against the edge.
She thinks she'd let him do whatever they wanted, touch her or fuck her wherever they wanted if they would just ease her ache.
She bites her lip and nods at him, unable to meet his eyes.
"Your words, baby girl. Use your words," he rumbles the reminder.
She flicks her eyes up to his and quickly looks away, unable to hold his gaze, a blush covering her face at what she's saying, what she's agreeing to. "Yes, daddy."
"Yes, daddy, what?" She sees him smiling, like he's enjoying her mortification of what she's asking for.
She whines again but he doesn't budge.
"Yes, I want him to fuck my ass," she finally whispers.
Both alphas groan at her words, and Silas’ hips thrust forwards against her ass harder, grinding it against her.
"Pull your skirt over your hips," Silas’ husky voice orders. She obeys, blushing as cool air hits her warm skin. She isn't wearing panties, none of them having been set out with her outfit that morning.
"What kind of girl doesn't wear panties to the office?" Alex asks, tsking his tongue at her. "Naughty omegas who let their bosses fuck their little assholes while they're bent over his desk, I guess, that's who."
The words would've speared straight through her heart with shame if his hand hadn't come forward to stroke her hair adoringly as he said it.
Silas steps away from her, taking his heat with him. She shivers a little before he returns quickly after fetching what sounds like a bottle off his liquor shelf.