Page 34 of The Delta's Rogue
Her fingers play with the back of my neck, much like mine tease every inch of skin I can reach, and we descend into a relaxed, comfortable silence. She is a perfect fit against my body and, with how she embraces my dark desires without hesitation, the perfect fit for this lifestyle.
I clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes shut, tightening my hold on her. The larger implications of everything I feel when I’m with her—everything she awakens within me and everything waiting for us at the end of all this—lurk in the back of my mind, threatening me with their existence.
I push all those suppositions aside. None of them matter. Not tonight.
The only thought that matters is that, for now at least, she is mine.
The door into theclub slams shut behind me, locking out the brisk winter air of our Northern California mountains. I pull my zip neck sweater over my head as I climb the stairs to my office. When I reach it, I lay the sweater across the surface of my desk, tossing my keys and wallet on top.
It’s been two months since I accepted Forrest’s offer to be his business partner, and I’m slowly but surely creating a comfortable yet tasteful work environment here at The Black Door. The renovations for the underground portions of the club have yet to begin, but Forrest and I have gone over the preliminary plans with the witch from the Earth Coven who is helping us, and we’re set to break ground in the spring when it’s warmer.
I stroll around my desk to the massive leather chair, which costs more than the rest of the furniture in here combined, and spin it around. The seat comes into view, and my lips tip into a half-smile when I find Sarina sitting in it, her body looking extra tiny in the enormous chair. I smile down at her, shaking my head at myself for being too distracted by my inner thoughts to notice her scent when I entered.
“Hello, Pretty Boy.” She smiles up at me.
“Little Rogue.” I lean over her with my hands on the arms of the chair.
She scoffs. “I’m not—”
“Technically a rogue. I know.” I chuckle as I pull her to her feet and against my body. My hands cup her neck, thumb brushing the choker. Goddess, I love seeing her with that thin strip of red wrapped around her neck. “But Little Nomad doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.”
She shakes her head, hair swaying with the movement, but her eyes sparkle with amusement. She nudges me with her nose, trying to lure me to give in, to meet her lips and kiss her the way we both want me to, but I don’t. Instead, I back away, dropping my hands from her body.
“I have things to do.” I turn towards the desk and boot up my computer. “And I want to be back in Crescent Lake for dinner.”
The two months that have passed since I agreed to Forrest’s proposal also mark two months since Sarina agreed to be my sub until she leaves, to let me own her body and teach her. The nature of our visits to the club since then have mostly been to help with the business and discuss plans, but we’ve found time to play too.
None of it has been as intense as those first two times. Mostly, it’s been me edging her as we sit in the club and sip our drinks. Then I pull her into a corner booth or a private room and watch her play with herself, or I pin her hands down and tease her lingerie-covered body until she comes. Each time, she’s worn her red collar. Each time, my focus has been on her pleasure—and only her pleasure. I use the memories of our time together to get off when I’m alone.
Ignoring the growing desire below my belt from thinking about Sarina in all those compromising positions and skimpy outfits she loves to tease me with, I turn on my computer with a sigh. But as soon as I remove my finger, Sarina jabs the button, shutting the screen off. I huff out an exasperated sigh but bite my tongue, turning it on once more. And again, as soon as I move my hand away, she turns it off.
I glare at her from the corner of my eye, nostrils flaring as I turn it on for the third time. She immediately tries to turn it off again, but I’m ready for her. I grab her wrist, wrapping my fingers around it and squeezing, and yank her away from the desk.
“Stop messing with the monitor,” I command in a low voice. “Please,” I add, holding her chin with my other hand.
She licks her lips and stares me down for a long, drawn-out moment before she finally nods. “Yes, Sir. I won’t mess with your monitor anymore,” she promises, baring her neck to me.
My gaze lingers on that sweet spot right below her choker, where her pulse flutters. My jaw ticks as my lycan tugs against my restraint, urging me to lean forward and kiss or lickor bite that tender area of her flesh, but I don’t. I drop her hand and release her chin, then plop into my chair and log into the system.
Sarina perches on the edge of the desk as the computer pings with dozens of new unread emails, and I work my way through them, trying to ignore her presence.
It’s much harder than it should be, though. To ignore her. It’s not just her scent or her inviting, tempting plump lips, or her wide eyes with their long, thick dark lashes—although none of that is helping.
No, it’s her foot on the seat of my chair, tapping it so it spins away and I have to spin it back, and her fingers drumming out a steady, syncopated rhythm on the desk. The drumming I can mostly ignore, but the spinning?
After the third time, I growl and grab her ankle. “I thought you said you weren’t going to mess with my stuff?”
She grins. “I agreed not to mess with themonitor.” She shrugs one shoulder and bats her lashes at me. “You should have clarified that you meantallof your things.”
My fingers curl around the back of her calf. I pinch it, hard, then tug her into my lap as she yelps in surprise.
Maybe if I hold her, she’ll let me focus and finish this work. If I get through it all fast enough, I may have enough time to play with her a little before driving back to Crescent Lake. As long as she behaves.
But of course, she doesn’t.
I reach for the wireless mouse. Sarina snatches it, jumping from my lap and hiding it behind her back, a mischievous grin on her face.
“Sarina.” I cock my head to the side, raising my eyebrows sternly as I reach my hand for the mouse. “Give it back.”
