Page 135 of Never Submit

I want to take Noble’s scent off of her and replace it with my own. The alpha dominating the beta.

“Panties off, Ms. Wexler.”

“Torin—”

“It’ssir. Panties off. On the fucking desk. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She stares at me in challenge. “I’m not wearing any.”

Oh, fuck me. That’s so much better. To know she’s dripping wetness down her bare thighs.

I slowly work my cock harder than normal to stave off the orgasm, to taunt myself. Around her? That’s easy.

And that fucking dress. I hate to admit it, but it’s probably the smartest thing Mathis has ever suggested. I’d thank him if I were a better person.

But no. I’ll erase his scent off of her, too. For as long as we have, Ren will smell like me. She’ll havemyseed inside of her.

The thought thrills me. “I’ve changed my mind, Ms. Wexler. Dress up, lean over the desk. Ass high.”

She does as asked, halfway because it suits her, and I run a hand over her smooth, pale ass. It’s perfect and round and begging to be marked by me. Then I raise my hand and slap her buttocks, hard. She shrieks.

She has no fucking idea what she’s started, or what she’s getting herself into.

I do it again, loving the resulting red mark, the print of my hand, and the heat radiating from it.

“Fuck! Torin!” she gasps, peering at me from over her shoulder.

Her hair falls in a wave around her pretty face and she licks her lips.

I spank her again. The sound ricochets over my senses and when she groans, my cock jolts. “Never forget to call mesir. Got that?”

She whimpers but the mocking lilt beneath the sound threatens to undo me. “Yes,sir.”

Like she’s just playing along because she likes the pain and the chastisement. I wouldn’t put it past her. I do it again and again and again.

“Fuck, fuck you, Tor—Sir?—”

I smooth over the marks. “Good girl.”

I drop my hand lower and slip it between her thighs, running a finger through the wetness and the different heat I find here. Her lips are so soft, I groan. A man can get used to it.

I push her further down and part her thighs, stepping between them as I shove two fingers into her pussy. I nearly swallow my fucking tongue. Even recently fucked, she’s still tight. Pulsing and milking my fingers.

I’ve lost my battle. I know that.

Call me pathetic, weak, dodgy, or staid or whatever the hell she insulted me with earlier. I just need to be inside her.Now.

I pump my fingers into Ren until she moans and rocks back on me.

“Please, sir,” she whispers.

Goddess, I could get used to this.

“I get to choose when,” I grunt, working us both in tandem. “You’re nothing but the vessel for my pleasure, Ms. Wexler. Do you understand?”

Who am I really reminding? Which one of us needs it more?

“Yes, sir.”

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