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"All the time I was imprisoned behind enemy lines, every single moment that I was tortured, I swore to myself that if I ever got out, I’d live life to the fullest, never regret a single moment. I told myself that I’d fuck every single pussy I could get my dick into. Then I met you." He chuckles, "Turns out, I only wanted one wet hole. One tight, moist space to call my own. Why is it that you feel so much like home, Ava? Why?"

The pressure builds behind my eyes. A teardrop rolls down my cheek as he flicks out his tongue and swipes up from my opening to the swollen nub of my clit.

The rough texture of his tongue, the burn of the alcohol, the heat of his mouth... All of it goes to my head. The world spins. I grab at him, digging my fingers into his hair to steady myself.

He lowers his head, licking me again and again. He swipes his tongue between my pussy lips, swirling that wicked tongue around my clit. He bites down on my swollen core and I swear, I almost come right then. A whine escapes me as he thrusts his tongue inside my melting channel and proceeds to eat me. He weaves his tongue in and out of me, in and out; brings his hand down to grind the heel of his palm into my clit, and the climax sweeps up from my toes.

He pulls away and my orgasm recedes. I’m almost there… Almost. He rises to his feet and I blink. I open my mouth and he shakes his head. He walks around to stand behind me, and I force myself to focus. The heat from his big body pours over me, sinks into my blood. He leans in and his hot breath sears my ear. "Bend over."

"Wh…what?"

"You heard me." He bites the shell of my ear and I shiver. "Bend over the desk, or I’ll make you do it."

He steps back.

I gape at him.

He jerks his chin toward the desk, "Go on."

I frown and he clicks his tongue, "Do it. Or do you want me to make you—?" He takes a step forward.

I skitter back, toss my hair over my shoulder. Fine, if he thinks he can coerce me into bending to his will… He is absolutely right. I walk to the desk, lower my head onto my folded arms. Then I have to part my legs to accommodate the angle. Bet the alphahole knew that already.

I turn my head, press my cheek onto my arms. Heat envelops me and I know he’s come up to stand behind me. I glance at him over my shoulder.

He shakes his head. "Don’t move."

I frown, and he flattens his palm at the small of my back. He applies just enough pressure that I am forced to stay still.

He plants his thigh between mine, kicking my legs apart. Cool air hits the exposed skin between my legs, and I shiver. He palms my butt and a shudder runs up my spine. He drags his fingers up the seam of my pussy and my toes curl. My heartbeat ratchets up. He continues up the valley between my buttcheeks, playing with my puckered hole.

"Who took you here last Ava?"

I bite down on my lower lip.

"Tell me." His voice lowers to a hush, and damn him, when he uses that tone, I can’t refuse him.

"Y-you," I stutter, "you did."

"Good."

I gaze at him from the corner of my eyes, in time to see him spit on his fingers. He slides his digit inside my backhole and I wince.

"Shh," he murmurs, "let me prep you."

"That’s what I am afraid of."

"What did you say…?"

"I said—"Oh shit, shit, shit.

He nods.

"What did I say about speaking?"

You told me to shut up, you prick.

"Exactly." He smirks. "And did I tell you how I would punish you for your disobedience?”