I shake my head, panting, gasping, wishing I could push myself up off the uncomfortable desk, but his back is there, caging me. Also ...hussy?
“That’s right. I didn’t. And if you take my picture next to another woman again that isn’t you, I’ll kill her.”
My eyes fly open. I can’t see his because he’s using his chest to smother me. I’m so close I can’t bear it. His fingers squeeze my clit, pinching it hard, and that’s what does it for me. It hurts, but it’s enough. The most deliriously magical and simultaneously horrible orgasm I’ve ever had rips through me, making my whole body clench up around his tail and dick. The pressure is surreal and the orgasm floats throughmy body, leaving a tingling behind that scrapes out my insides and reorganizes them to his liking.
When I come to, he’s picked his torso up off my body, though his cock and tail are still firmly seated. “Sign this.” He slaps my ass hard enough to jolt my whole body against the concrete. He lifts my right wrist and then drops it onto the desk.
“Wh-what?” I pant, my gaze scanning over the document he shoves underneath my cheek. My eyes are unfocused until I blink.
“It’s a contract amendment, rolling back the allowance I gave you to communicate directly with my PR team and adding in that you no longer have my consent to take my photo without prior permission.”
“B-b . . . No!”
“And when you’re finished, sign this.” He holds up a document in my line of sight that can’t be mistaken for anything other than the large block letters printed at the top:Marriage License.
“What!” I scramble, trying to pick my head up off the desk, but he shoves me back down.
“Sign these. And when we’re done here, you’re going to give me your phone so I can send them the full video. They’ve already taken the other post down, but I’m going to need to make sure that it’s clear to the world exactly how I feel about Cynthia.”
“You can’t do that,” I wheeze. “You’ll look like a villain.”
“Iama villain. And only you know just how villainous I am.” His tail wiggles in my ass, and I clench my cheeks around it. He slaps them one, two, three, four times in quick succession. It’s so rough that I cry out, horribly tortured by the sting. It makes me want to do terrible things. Sign whatever he wants and beg him to do more to me.
No! No thinking with the coochie!My eyes water and I heave, “I can’t sign that, Darius. I can’t take your picture in battles if you want my permission first. That just ... doesn’t even make sense.”
“Good thing that after you sign this,” he says, fluttering the pink marriage certificate in front of my face, “you won’t be going into battle anymore. You’ll be tied to my bed, and that’s where you’ll stay.”
“Are you serious?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?”
“You aren’t my only contract.”
“I will be once I kill Mr. Singkham and take over the COE.”
I freeze. “What?”
He bends back over me. “I am tired of being controlled ...”
“But that’s exactly what you want to do to me!” I rasp, squeezing my inner muscles around him, causing him to jerk. He doesn’t answer. “You can’t own me. That’s not how this works.” He still doesn’t answer. He knows I’m right. He knows that the balance of this relationship relies entirely on my consent, on my limits and my wants. “And as for that other contract amendment, no.”
“Yes,” he counters, wrapping my hair up in his fist and lifting my head from the desk high enough that he can bend around me and meet my gaze with those burning purple irises.
“It’s not realistic. You want my sign-off, fine, but I can’t get preapproval in the middle of a battle, and I’m not going to sit on the sidelines. That’s where I was with the Wyvern and why I took your contract in the first place. Also—I can’t believe I even have to say this—you can’t kill Mr. Singkham and take over the COE.”
“Why not?” His horns crackle, and behind him, I see the metal pieces on his shelf also flaring with violent color. He doesn’t seem to notice. And the very conversation we’re having now is why I don’t say anything about it.
“Because there are other ways to get out of a contract,” I tell him, voice laden with implication.
“Like what?” he seethes, nostrils flaring.
“You can just leave. Like I’m going to leave.” Once I get un-impaled from his hard appendages. “I’m not signing anything.”
“You really think you can try to intimidate me?”
I scoff. “Of course not. You’ve got me pinned to your desk with your tail and your cock. I like you, Darius,” I groan as I try to push myself up on shaking arms. He surprises me this time by letting me up,but then wraps his arms around me and falls back into his chair, his cock and tail still firmly wedged.
“Oof,” I whimper even louder, head rolling back and hitting his chest, which heaves with rage and aggression and need—at least, those are all the things I’m feeling. “I like you. You have to know that. I admired Taranis as a hero, but I actuallylikeyou, Darius. You can’t put me in a cage unless it’s in your bedroom and we’re still using safe words.” His hands come around my stomach, one of them palming my right breast. I can tell his dick has softened enough to pull out of me, but he makes no move to do that. “And if you don’t like your cage, just leave it. There’s nothing binding you there. You don’t have to kill anyone. You have more money than God. If you signed a lousy contract when you became a hero, just fix it.
