Page 3 of Bratva's Vow
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Morozov, but Sam says he got disconnected during your call, and he’s been trying to reachyou. Said the line’s not ringing through, and Wren isn’t at his desk.”
Wren squeezed the base of my cock, and it took everything not to look down at him. I tightened my fingers on the edge of the desk as I strove to keep my focus on Bradley rather than my perfect little cocksucking devil’s mouth.
“I’m aware. I’ll return his call once I’m through.”
“Okay, I’ll?—”
A soft slurp had us all freezing. Even Wren stopped moving, his lips halfway down my cock.
Bradley looked about ready to leap out of his skin, his eyes wide as his gaze ticked to the desk, then darted back to my face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Realization passed through him like a wave.
I should have felt guilty for outing Wren like this, but I felt nothing but satisfaction. Bradley had low-key flirted with Wren one too many times for my peace of mind. Sending him out of town on assignment hadn’t cured him of lusting after what was mine either. If I still didn’t need him within my sights, I would have fired him already.
“Umm, well, then, I’ll let him know.” Bradley turned for the door and closed it behind him with a soft snick.
“Oh my god.” Wren pushed my chair back and stood. “He knows, Max. He totally knows.”
“So what? Come here.”
I reached for his belt buckle, unfastened it, and slipped his pants down below his hips before he could fully blink.
“You still want to afterthat?”
“Of course. Nothing could ever make me not want you, least of all someone who keeps flirting with you. If you’d let me, I’d fuck you right on top of his desk in his office until he gets the message loud and clear. I. Don’t. Share.”
I took the lube out of my drawer, pleased when he didn’tprotest or try to get away. Just accepted that one way or another he would end up on my dick. I wanted it. And he wanted it.
“Are you saying you own me?” Wren grabbed his shirt and raised it above his ass with one hand, showing off his black lace jockstrap. He slipped a finger between his cheeks, fingering himself.
“Fuck, yeah, I own you.”
He shoved his finger faster into his hole. “Hurry up before someone else knocks.”
I lubed up, placed my hands on his hips, and guided him back to sit on my cock. Wren spread his cheeks and sat down hard, taking me in all at once.
“Fuck!” I clamped my eyes shut as ripples surged through my body. I tightened my grip on his hips, but he kept going, rising and falling in swift movements, his body stretching and adjusting to my fullness.
He arched his back, gripping the armrests for leverage. I punched up, meeting his downward thrusts, and his ass crashed into my pelvis with the rhythmic echo of skin meeting skin.
“Do you like that, Mr. Morozov?”
My hips stuttered at his taunt, and I lowered one hand to firmly stroke his hardened cock.
“That’s all you got?” I teased right back.
He clenched his muscles around my throbbing length, and a shiver ran up my spine. The room was hot and cold at the same time.
“I swore I wasn’t going to do this here with you,” he moaned. “But I can’t stop. I always want you to fuck me.”
Exactly the way I felt. But if I bent him over every time I got hard for him, we would both be slapped with charges for indecent exposure. We’d never get any work done.
“That’s it, Wren. Ride your boss’s dick. Show me how much you love it when I’m in that ass.”
“Oh god. Gonna come.”
“Do it. Come all over my hand.”
“Yes, Mr. Morozov.”
