Chapter 46 Solomon #2
She smiled and popped the button on my pants and shoved them down, my cock springing free, thick and aching for her. I didn’t wait. My hands slid under her shirt, palms pressing flat against the soft stomach, right where our children had grown.
She froze under my touch, her breath catching.
My forehead dropped to her shoulder, inhaling her scent, mixed with gunpowder that drove me insane.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her skin, my fingers splaying possessively over her belly. “For every goddamn day you carried this alone.”
“Shut up and take your pants off,” she snapped, but her voice cracked with want, her nails digging into my arms.
I kicked my pants aside, stepping closer, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, ankles locking behind my back, never wanting to let go.
My mouth found the bond mark on her collarbone.
I kissed it reverently, tongue tracing the jagged edges, tasting salt and her.
She gasped, arching into me, and I smiled against her skin.
“That’s it, Mira. Let me show you just how sorry I am.”
I growled, nipping the unmarked skin beside it hard enough to make her moan. The sound was muffled against my shoulder because we were in her father’s office, walls thin as paper, and any guard could burst in.
I loved the risk, the way it made her pussy clench in anticipation. I pulled off her pants, bunching it at her ankles, and hooked my fingers in her panties, ripping them off swiftly. The fabric tore with a satisfying rip, and she whimpered, her slick folds exposed, glistening for me.
“Look at you,” I said, sliding two fingers along her slit, coating them in her wetness. “So wet for me already, dripping on your father’s desk.”
I plunged my fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that made her buck. She cried out, but I clamped a hand over her mouth, dominant and unyielding. “Quiet, Mira. You don’t want them hearing us, do you?”
Her eyes blazed, but she nodded, sucking on my palm as I pumped my fingers deeper, stretching her, preparing her for my cock.
“That’s my good girl,” I praised, thumb circling her clit. I added a third finger, scissoring them to open her up, and she rode my hand, hips grinding desperately.
The radio on Thiago’s desk crackled to life beside us, a voice barking urgent orders about the eastern breach that should’ve had my attention. But all I cared about was her, the way her body trembled under mine. I withdrew my fingers, slick with her arousal, and brought them to her lips.
“Taste yourself,” I commanded. She obeyed, tongue swirling around my digits, eyes never leaving mine.
I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging her folds, teasing her clit before sliding down. I entered her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face contort in pleasure.
Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parting on a silent gasp, fingers tightening on the desk’s edge until her knuckles whitened. The wood creaked under her grip, papers shifting precariously.
“Look at me,” I ordered, voice gravelly, grabbing her chin to force her gaze to mine.
Her eyes snapped open, mismatched and furious, but so goddamn beautiful that the last thread of my control snapped. “Mira, you’re stunning like this,” I told her, thrusting the rest of the way in, burying myself to the hilt.
I moved then, not gently at all. My hips snapped forward, hard and relentless, the desk shuddering with each powerful drive. Another stack of papers cascaded to the floor, scattering from our forbidden fuck.
She pulled me closer with her heels, urging me deeper, her walls fluttering around my length. The sound she made, a desperate whine against my neck, ignited me completely.
“S-sol…”
I gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, pounding into her with a rhythm that shook the entire desk.
“That’s it,” I groaned, leaning down to capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, tongue fucking her just as roughly as my cock did her pussy. “Ride me back. Show me how much you love being filled up on this desk.”
Her nails raked down my back, and I hissed in pleasure, thrusting harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the room.
I could hear them outside. Guards running past the corridor. The alarm still wailing on the upper levels. Her father’s world falling into chaos while I took his daughter apart on his desk, surrounded by the maps and files and photographs of the organization he’d built to destroy my kind.
The radio barked again, more urgent now, but I ignored it, focusing on her moans, the way her breasts bounced with every slam.
I ripped open her blouse, buttons flying, and shoved her bra down, freeing her tits. They were perfect, full and heaving, nipples hard peaks begging for attention. I latched onto one, sucking hard, teeth grazing as I fucked her mercilessly.
“These tits,” I murmured against her skin, switching to the other. “So responsive, so fucking hot when you arch like that.”
She bit my shoulder to stifle her cries, teeth sinking in deep enough to draw blood, and I growled, the pain spurring me on. I straightened, hooking her legs over my arms to angle deeper, hitting her cervix with each brutal thrust.
“Come for me, Mira,” I demanded, one hand dropping to rub her clit in tight circles. “Let me feel how good I make you feel.”
Her body tensed, pussy spasming around me as she shattered, waves of her orgasm crashing over her. She was exquisite, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream, and I praised her through it.
“Yes, there you go.”
I didn’t stop, chasing my own release, hips pistoning faster. The desk groaned in protest, more files tumbling, but I didn’t care.
This was our moment, raw and claiming, on the very place of her father’s power.
“Solomon-!”
With a final, deep thrust, I came, spilling hot ropes of cum deep in her pussy, groaning her name.
We stayed locked together. The knot held us in place, and the silence that settled between us was the kind I’d built my entire relationship with her on.
It said everything the words couldn’t.
Her hand traced the scar from my temple down until it reached my jaw. The way she used to when she thought I was asleep.
“There’s a male scent on your clothes,” I said.
She pulled back. Stared at me. “Are you serious right now?”
“Faint. Recent. Not one of us.”
“His name is Wyatt. He’s my training partner and ally. He helped me smuggle evidence from the medical wing.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re as bad as Percival.”
“Percy mentioned it first.”
“Sounds like him.” She rolled her eyes with enough force that I nearly smiled.
The radio crackled again. The chatter had shifted. Someone was reporting the eastern breach contained, patrols regrouping, a sweep ordered for the interior.
“You need to leave,” Mira said. The urgency was back but the hostility wasn’t. The shift was small, barely perceptible to anyone.
I stood to get dressed. Checked the corridor through the gap beneath the door.
Mira was watching me.
“We need to meet,” she said, rebuilding the mask that made my chest ache. “All four of us. There’s too much that none of us have the full picture. I’m tired of fighting this war in fragments.”
“Where?”
“I’ll find a way to get out. Give me two days.” She picked up the journal and held it against her chest. “Two days, Solomon. Then I want all three of you in front of me.”
I nodded. Opened the window. The night breeze hit my face and the sounds of the compound settling back into order filled the gap between us.
“Solomon.”
I turned.
“Don’t mistake what happened on this desk for forgiveness.”
Her eyes held mine.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I said.
I dropped into the darkness and disappeared.