Page 57 of Big Bad Bully
Ha. She’s fucking adorable. A hundred times cuter than the little rat of a puppy at our feet gazing up at me with his big brown eyes. Aubrey wants on top. I love it.
I’m reminded of last Christmas when Brick’s four-year-old niece, April, put us all in her “jail” and then served us tea with her new china tea set. She was intoxicated by the power gifted to her by six hulking adult male shifters willing to pretend to be at her will for a half an hour.
So, sure. Like with Ruby’s pup that afternoon, I’ll play along. If Aubrey wants to call the shots in bed, I’ll let her ride on top. Or sit on my face. Or whatever her wild and weird imagination can conjure. I’m happy to give her the illusion of control, so long as my wolf gets to taste her. Nevermind that I could physically overpower her with the twitch of a finger.
Her pillowy lips press together. The silver nose ring winks at me. I can tell she expects me to reject her counter-offer. In fact, she thinks there’s no way in hell I would ever submit to her in bed.
But she underestimates my masculine security. She couldn’t possibly know I was raised by an alpha who was the definition of toxic masculinity. His paranoia that my small size as a youth would mean I wouldn’t grow to alpha size and take his place made him relentless in indoctrinating me in all things he considered masculine.
By the time I was ten, I could fight and win any match against sixteen and seventeen-year-olds in my pack. I fought with claws and teeth to win my battles. I was vicious. Unrelenting. And always on the offense. By the time I was a teen and still hadn’t hit the growth curve, I could outwit, outmaneuver, or outrace any adult in the pack.
I didn’t complete my growth spurt until well into college, when my father had already written me off, and I’d won the position as Brick’s second in command. Brick found in me a ferociously loyal pack brother. And beyond that, with him or any of my new pack members, I had nothing to prove.
I don’t need glory. I don’t have to save face. I’ll play the bad guy or take the fall for any of my brothers.
I open my hands and spread them. “I’m yours to command.”
Aubrey
I stare at Billy, shocked.
I would not have seen this coming from any direction. He just…doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would ever abase himself. Especially not to someone like me.
I mean, Madi said he’s a classist fuck.
Why would he ever agree to submit to me?
The logic eludes me, but it doesn’t matter.
I was pissed off when he said no commitment or relationship because I took it to mean I’m not worthy of being his girlfriend. But whatevs. He’s not worthy of being my boyfriend, either.
That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.
Right now, all I can think is that he’s mine. Those muscular forearms are mine to command. I could strip him naked and?—
Billy disproves his pledge to submit by taking charge. Moving faster than I can track, he grips my waist and boosts me up to straddle his waist.
Pepper gives a yip of excitement, noting that it’s playtime.
One growl from Billy quells the little dog’s enthusiasm.
“Oh…okay. Yes, lift me up.” I can’t keep the laughter out of my voice as I pretend I ordered it first.
The fact that I love being picked up by this man pretty much proves his entire case against me. Billy isn’t Incredible Hulk-big like Grayson, the door guy downstairs. He’s muscled but on the wiry side. Still, he makes me feel as light as a child the way he easily holds me, his forearm propped under my ass.
“Carry me to your bedroom.”
His answer is a dark rumble, but he swiftly strides down the hall. My breasts thrust in his face, and he bites one boob through my thin shirt.
I cry out, clamping my inner thighs more tightly around his waist, my pussy contracting.
I suddenly can’t remember why I was resisting sex with him. Oh, yeah, because I didn’t want him to win. But clearly I’m the one winning here. I’m being charioted to a bedroom by a tall, strong, billionaire who apparently is willing to do my bidding when it comes to bed-related activities.
Plus, no commitment or relationship. Just sex.
Now that I’m over being offended, I can realize that it’s a perfect scenario. The idea that men only want sex and women have to use that bargaining chip to get them into relationships is just an old philosophy stemming from times when women had no agency or rights to property. As if we’re not supposed to love sex, too. As if we can’t just be in it for pleasure alone.
So yeah. I’m burning down the patriarchy right now. Starting with ordering Billy Billions around in his own bedroom.
