"Not yet," I command, easing off the pressure. "You don't come until I tell you to."
"Thrall—"
"You're mine now, Romee. And I decide when you come apart." I punctuate the words with a particularly deep thrust that makes her sob. "Understand?"
"Yes," she whimpers, and I reward her obedience by increasing the pressure of my fingers just slightly. Just enough to keep her balanced on that knife's edge without letting her fall.
I can feel my own release building again, faster and harder than before, driven by the primal satisfaction of having her here beneath me, accepting everything I am without fear or hesitation. She's not intimidated by my size or my strength or the barely civilized beast that lurks beneath my expensive suits. She demands I unleash it.Commandsit.
Perfect. She's absolutely perfect.
"Touch yourself," I order roughly, removing my hand and gripping her hip again to hold her steady. "Make yourself come on my cock."
She doesn't hesitate. Her hand slides between her legs, and I can feel the brush of her fingers against me where we're joined, can feel the moment she finds the right spot because her whole body goes rigid.
"That's it," I growl, my pace becoming almost punishing in its intensity. "Take what you need. Show me how good I make you feel."
Her fingers move in tight, desperate circles, and I can feel the exact moment she reaches her peak. Her body clamps down around me like a vice, rhythmic contractions that pull medeeper, and she screams my name loud enough that I'm certain everyone in the building can hear it.
The sound of her pleasure, raw and unfiltered, pushes me over the edge. My hips snap forward one final time, driving as deep as I can possibly go, and I come with a roar that rattles the windows. The orgasm crashes through me in waves that seem to last forever, and somewhere in the haze I realize I'm holding her so tightly that there will definitely be fingerprint bruises on her hips tomorrow.
I don't care. Let her wear my marks. Let everyone see exactly who she belongs to.
We collapse together onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, both of us breathing hard and trembling with aftershocks. I roll us carefully onto our sides, keeping her pulled back against me, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Her hand comes up to rest over mine where it's splayed across her stomach, her fingers threading through mine in a gesture that's somehow more intimate than anything we just did.
"I love you," I rumble into her hair, the words rough but absolutely certain. "I've loved you since you stood in front of that bar with an airhorn and threatened my meat skewers."
She laughs breathlessly, the sound vibrating through both of us. "I love you too. Even though you're a controlling, high-handed, impossible Orc who bought my company without asking."
"I gave it back."
"After I yelled at you."
"You're beautiful when you yell at me." I press a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck, then the spot behind her ear that makes her shiver. "You're beautiful all the time, but especially when you're putting me in my place."
"Good thing I plan to do that frequently." She turns her head to look back at me, her expression soft and open in a way I've never seen before. "I'm serious about the business though, Thrall. I'm not giving up my firm. Even if I move in with you."
"I know." I tighten my arm around her waist, pulling her more firmly against me. "I would never ask you to. I fell in love with your competence and your spine and your terrifying organizational skills. I want you exactly as you are."
"Even when I use those organizational skills to make your executives do trust falls?"
"Especiallythen." I nip lightly at her earlobe, drawing a startled gasp. "Watching you command a room full of Orcs twice your size is the most attractive thing I've ever seen."
She's quiet for a moment, her thumb tracing idle patterns over my knuckles. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, almost vulnerable.
"I've never had this before," she admits quietly. "Someone who sees me as an equal. Who doesn't want to control me or diminish me or take credit for my work."
"You've never had someone who deserves you before." I press another kiss to her shoulder, gentler this time. "But you have me now. And I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise me," she whispers, her voice trembling with something almost like hope, a vulnerability I've learned means everything.
"I promise you," I say, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. The words carry weight, finality, the kind of absolute certainty that comes from someone who doesn't traffic in false reassurances. I shift my weight carefully, mindful of the delicate woman beneath me, reaching past her shoulder to retrieve my phone from the nightstand. The cool glass surface glints in the low lamplight as my fingers close around it. "In fact, I'm making damn sure of it right now."
She turns her head slightly, curiosity flickering across her features. Her dark eyes follow the movement of my phone with a mixture of intrigue and mild suspicion, the expression of someone accustomed to people taking action without warning her first.
"What exactly are you doing?" she asks, her tone caught somewhere between amusement and the faint edge of exasperation that I've come to recognize as uniquely hers. There's a hint of that old boardroom authority creeping back in, as if she's bracing herself for whatever scheme I'm about to set in motion.
