Jackson

I haven’t seen Kylie since I got to work and my wolf is getting cranky.

Usually, once a wolf has claimed his mate, the itchiness to always be near her eases. Or at least I thought it would. But it hasn’t with Kylie. Probably because she’s carrying my pup. Or kitten. We’ll see. I’d be happy with either.

Because I’m possessive as fuck, I prefer to drive into work with Kylie. I like knowing which superhero t-shirt she’s wearing, whether she put on Converse or heels. I like prolonging the time we’re together before we have to be apart. But I had an early meeting this morning, and with the pregnancy, she needs more rest, so I let her sleep in. Now, I drum my fingers on my desk as my executive team reports on the monthly earnings.

A message box pops up on my screen and my wolf is instantly mollified.

BATGIRL4U: Today is our two month anniversary.

All it takes is seeing her moniker and my cock lengthens.

KING1: Oh yeah? From the day we met?

BATGIRL4U: The day you groped me in the elevator.

KING1: I know how and where I want to celebrate

BATGIRL4U: How?

I hesitate, knowing she’s not going to like my answer. I didn’t actually grope her in the elevator. She was interviewing with my company and a power outage stranded us in the elevator together. She’s claustrophobic and had a panic attack. I wrapped my arms around her to press her sternum and activate her calming reflex. That was before she ran her mouth about me. Before I knew she was the hacker who’d nearly taken down my multi-billion dollar company.

KING1: Nailing you in the elevator

BATGIRL4U: Hell, no

I expect that reply. My lips quirk, the thrill of punishing her already making my hips shift to accommodate my growing cock.

KING1: Do you get to tell me no?

BATGIRL4U: ...Yes?

KING1: My office, 10 minutes.

Returning my focus to my team, I clear my throat, cutting off the CFO, who is going on about quarterly earnings. “All right, let’s wrap this meeting up. Send the reports to me via email.”

They’re used to me. I’m always abrupt, usually an asshole, although having Kylie has softened me. I watch them file out and loosen my tie.

Kylie walks in and my heart stutters. She’s wearing the same outfit she wore the day we met. Tight t-shirt with the Batgirl symbol in hot pink glitter across her perfect tits under her slender black jacket. Short, fitted skirt, no hose, high heels.

“Lose the jacket,” I command.

Her hips sway as she saunters forward. She knows the power she has over me, even though she lets me call the shots. Gaze locked on mine, she slips the jacket off and tosses it over the back of a chair.

I stand and stride to meet her, hunger for her gnawing at me, even though I claimed her last night. And on our lunch hour yesterday. And that morning. Still, it’s been twelve hours and my wolf is restless to smell her, taste her, watch her come unglued.

I grasp the hem of her t-shirt and yank it up above her glorious breasts, shove the fabric between her lips. “Hold this,” I command and she bites down. I groan when I see my favorite red lace bra, the one she wore the first time I undressed her. I shove the cups down to take in her hardened nipples. She’s not showing yet, but her breasts have grown, swelling more each day. I measure their weight in my hands. I want to suck them rosy, but this is punishment, so I force myself to be content with pinching each nipple.

“Bad girl,” I murmur in her ear as I circle around behind. I smell the sweet honey of her arousal, sense the tremble in her legs. She loves punishment as much as I love giving it.

I propel her forward until she’s up against the full-length windows that give my office a view of the Catalina mountains. The glass is mirrored, so I can see out, but no one can see in. “Hands on the glass, kitten. Spread your legs.” I nudge her high heels apart.

She widens her stance as far as her tight skirt allows. I press my body against her back and reach around to cup her breasts. “Are you allowed to tell me no, baby?” I slide a hand down the front of her until my palm meets the skin of her thigh, then I reverse direction and coast up the inside of her thigh, rucking up her skirt as I go. My fingers reach the apex of her thighs and I cup her mons, pressing the heel of my hand against her clit.

“Jackson,” she moans, dropping the t-shirt from her teeth. I let it go.

“Are you, baby?”

“N-no,” she says hoarsely, head thrown back on my shoulder.

“Who calls the shots, kitten?” I slip my middle finger inside her panties and stroke along her dewy slit. “Hmm?”

“You do.” Her inner thighs tense and shiver as I tap-tap-tap my finger over her clit.

I penetrate her, pushing my digit into her sopping heat, loving the way her responsive little body convulses at the sensation.

“If I want you in an elevator, I get you in an elevator. Don’t I?”

She stiffens slightly. I know this is a challenge for her. It’s not that I want to torture her—I love this female more than I ever believed possible. But I want to help her overcome her past trauma. With the right measure of lust and the trust between us, I think I can get her to lose her phobia of elevators. I’ve already had her in a shower stall and that’s a much smaller space.

“Jackson—”

I pull my finger out and slap her pussy. “You will yield, baby. You can do it now or you can do it after your punishment, but I’m going to get my way.” I bite her ear. “Now, which is it going to be?”

I’m hoping she chooses after punishment, not only for the pleasure it will bring both of us, but because I think it will be easier to get her to let go in the elevator if she’s already drunk with lust.

When she doesn’t answer, I spank her pussy again. I use one hand to pull her panties to the side and the other to deliver light slaps on her bare sex, right over her clit.

“Punishment it is.”

Kylie

It’s a good thing my palms are flattened against the window, because I need them to hold me up. As Jackson spanks my pussy, lust storms through me like a hurricane, making me sway on my high heels. I’d take them off, but I know Jackson will never allow it. He loves the heels. Often orders me to strip out of everything but the heels.

Jackson would never let me fall, though. He must realize my predicament, because he circles my waist with one strong arm and brings his lips to my ear. “I bought something for you, kitten.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t move.”

He eases his body away from mine and we both groan. I feel the loss every time our bodies separate. From his desk drawer he produces a gadget or device—a bulbous metal… “Is that butt plug?”

Holy buttstuff, batman.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s just that Jackson’s dominance comes from being an alpha wolf, not from following the trappings of a BDSM fetish. He smacked my ass the very first time he got me out of my clothes and has never stopped since. Still, I appreciate his investment in keeping things fresh.

Even if I’m not so sure how I feel about having a stainless steel plug shoved up my ass.

He uncaps a tube of lubricant and squeezes a dollop onto his finger. “This will help you remember who’s in charge when we’re in the elevator.” He rubs the lube between his thumb and forefinger. His hungry green eyes have changed to pale blue; his wolf is riled up for me.

Damn. He’s still on the elevator idea. Not that I thought he’d drop it. Jackson King didn’t build SeCure into a multi-billion dollar company by taking no for an answer. But I’m way more into wearing my interview outfit to celebrate our two-month anniversary than re-creating an elevator stall-out.

He walks around behind me and tugs my panties down. My skirt is still rucked up around my waist, legs splayed wide. Pregnancy has done nothing to dampen my ever-present desire to be claimed by my mate at all hours of the day.

Jackson wedges the lubed tip of the plug between my ass cheeks and nudges my back entrance. He’s punished me with his cock there before and I admit, I loved it. There’s something so taboo, so wrong in all the right ways. It requires my complete surrender, not that any sex with Jackson doesn’t, especially during the full moon. He’s always rough, always demanding. He can’t help himself, which, in turn, makes me feel powerful. Desirable.

Still, I resist the cool metal intrusion, squeeze my cheeks to prevent its entry. Jackson slips a hand into the front of my panties and twiddles my clit. The rush of pleasure loosens my muscles and I inadvertently relax. He breaches my tight entrance. I mewl and pant, working to drop my resistance. The plug stretches me, fills me. I groan, my pussy dripping.

“That’s it, kitten.” His hot breath feathers across my ear. “Almost there.” The plug seats, but my relief is short-lived. The fullness, the stimulation on my anus have me squirming for satisfaction.

I shift on my feet, pressing my mons into his hand.

He tsks and removes his fingers, leaves me trembling against the window, waiting.

“I prefer to spank you bare-skinned with my hand.” He walks to the end of the wall-length window and unhooks the plastic tilt wand from the blinds. “There’s nothing more satisfying than your ass under my hand.”

I struggle to think of a snarky comeback, but the buzzing in my clit is too distracting.

“But I’d hate for my secretary to hear. So I’ll have to use something quieter.” He slaps the tilt wand into his palm.

I eye it doubtfully. It looks mean, even with my newly activated shifter DNA, which makes any pain or marks disappear in a matter of hours, if not minutes. Apparently, my pussy doesn’t object, because my arousal drips onto my thighs. Jackson’s nostrils flare and I know he smells it.

A low growl rumbles in his throat. “Push that ass out, kitten.”

Tingles race over my skin, my breath rises and falls quickly as I hollow my lower back and present my plugged ass to him.

The wand whips through the air and lands across the middle of my buttocks. A line of fire streaks across my flesh and I yelp. “Fuck!” My hands fly to cover my ass and I whirl around to face Jackson.

He smothers my planned protest with a hard kiss, stamping his lips over mine, coaxing his tongue into my mouth. He keeps kissing me until I whimper and soften against him, arms looping around his neck. When, at last, he pulls away, he closes his teeth around my lower lip and pulls it out before he releases it with a pop.

“That fucking hurt,” I complain.

He cups my ass, rubbing and massaging away the pain. “Ready for the elevator?”

I lift my chin. “No elevator.”

The hands on my ass roam lower, slide between my legs and stroke my wet pussy. “This pussy, baby,”—he demands another kiss—“belongs to me. And I need it in the elevator.” He kisses me again, more gently, lips stroking mine, nibbling lightly. “You know you’re safe with me. If you get scared, I’ll take care of you. You’re mine, baby. I’ll always protect you.”

A shiver of something much deeper than lust runs through me and tears prick my eyes. I drop my cheek to his chest and press my body against his to recover my breath. He continues his steady torment, stroking my throbbing clit while nudging the butt plug with his arm.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s go.”

Jackson’s grin is one hundred percent wolf. He puts my clothing back in place and cradles my neck, tipping my head to the side to drag his mouth up the column of my neck in a slow, open-mouthed kiss. “I’ll make it good for you, kitten. I promise.”

I wrap his tie in my fist and tug his mouth down to mine. “You’d better.”

Jackson

I straighten my tie and usher Kylie out of my office.

“Oh Mr. King?” My secretary, Vanessa, tries to get my attention.

“I’ll be back in five,” I say. Or twenty. Depends on how long it takes to get my beautiful mate off in a tight space.

I haven’t officially acknowledged my relationship with Kylie at work, because it’s none of their goddamn business, but Kylie pulls the alpha female with Vanessa every time she tries to overstep, so my secretary must know by now we’re an item.

I should probably buy Kylie some kind of diamond ring to mark her in the human fashion as mine. Make sure no humans who can’t smell my scent on her think she’s fair game.

Kylie stiffens as the doors to the elevator swish open, but I place my hand on her lower back and guide her gently forward. As far as I know, she hasn’t been in the elevator since the day she interviewed. She always takes the stairs.

I hit the “R” for rooftop. My office is on the top floor, but the elevator goes up one more level, and heading in that direction insures we’ll be alone.

“What is R?” she asks. The elevator doors close and her swallow gives away her nerves.

“Rooftop.” The elevator ascends. “You’re okay, baby.” I spin her around and press my body against the back of hers, pushing her up against the wall.

She’s breathing quickly, but judging from her scent, it’s more fear than arousal.

The elevator stops and the doors slide open, letting the Tucson sunlight stream into the compartment. I push my thumb over the “door open” button and hold it in. “There, baby. The doors are open. You can breathe fresh air. But you’re still in the elevator. And I’m still going to nail you against this wall.”

Her body melts against mine, breathing slows.

“That’s it, kitten.”

The elevator makes an angry beep to let me know I’m holding the button too long. I ignore it.

“Now, I need you to peel that skirt of yours up to your waist.”

She removes her hands from the wall and tugs up the hem of her black skirt.

I use my free hand to yank her panties down in back. My own pants give me a bit more trouble opening one-handed.

Kylie rotates and slithers into a wide-kneed crouch at my feet, reaching to unbutton my trousers. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I reach for her head, forgetting about the elevator button. The doors snick closed and I lunge to catch the button again, just before the elevator car starts to plunge back down.

Kylie’s gold-flecked eyes are on me and her gaze doesn’t waver as she releases my cock and licks around the head.

I curse, threading my fingers through her hair, urging her to take me into that sexy mouth of hers. I love when she turns the tables on me. I’m supposed to be the one seducing her, but I see the glory of power and control shining in her eyes, and there’s nothing I’d do to change it.

“Fuck, Kylie. Take me deep.”

She does. She slides her full lips down the length of my cock, tongue massaging the underside. Then she clamps down and sucks hard as she pulls back.

I shudder, my thighs tightening. I use my fist in her hair to pull her head off. “Up,” I command, my voice so deep I hardly recognize it. “I need to be in you, baby.” I help her up. Her panties are still up in front, so I say, “Lose the panties.”

She does the stripper-perfect squat again to get them off and I nearly jizz all over her face. The minute she stands up, I tug her thigh up to my waist and line the head of my dick up to her slick entrance. One thrust is all it takes to sink into her wet heat.

I pin her back against the wall to get leverage and do my best to dial it back, which results in slow, hard thrusts that send her higher and higher on the wall.

She lifts the other leg up and wraps them both around my waist. I hook my forearm under her ass and pull her hips forward on the perfect angle to go deep.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes roll back in her head.

“Next time you need to come up to my office,” I manage to say through gritted teeth, “you take the elevator.” I slam in harder and harder, making her take every solid inch of me. “And you think about this, baby. Think about who fucked you in this elevator.” I pump faster, with shorter strokes. “Remember that I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again. Understand?”

”Y-yes, sir,” she pants, then strangles on a scream.

I claim her mouth, swallowing her cries as her pussy clenches and contracts around my length. The second she squeezes, I come, her muscles milking my cock, wringing me out the way she does every fucking time.

The elevator buzzes again, a loud warning.

Still holding my beautiful mate, I stoop to snag her panties from the elevator floor and step out into the sunlight.

“Marry me.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

Kylie’s still in another world, her eyes glassy, lips swollen from my kiss. “I already have.”

“I want you the human way, too. Mrs. Jackson King. Ring, marriage certificate, all that.”

Her body is soft and relaxed against mine. She rests her head on my shoulder. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, what?”

She laughs the husky, throaty sound that drives me wild. “Yes, sir.”

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