Page 16 of Under His Command
“Okay,” I whisper, lowering myself to my knees at his feet, the desk hiding my face away. The only view I get is that of the wood and the polished floor under my ass.
Rowan’s hand comes down and rests on the top of my head, his fingers gently digging into my hair, caressing it—caressing me. The action is soft and endearing and unlike anything else I’ve experienced as a grown adult. There’s something deeply erotic about being touched like this, every movement of his fingers charged with dark, delicious promise.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” he asks, and Sergeant Rhames lets out a short chuckle.
“Very,” he agrees, a hint of something odd in his tone as he continues, “I would call you a lucky bastard if you weren’t my boss.”
I hold my breath at the sound of that, expecting Rowan to strangle this man for the way he just spoke to him. And I’m not the only one doing that—for a few moments, it feels as if the entire room has become sentient and stopped breathing.
But Rowan doesn’t react like that. Instead, I feel his body shake with a low laugh as he continues to caress my hair under the table.
“That I am, Sergeant. Now… please go and execute my orders, and watch over this operation yourself. Don’t answer any questions on my behalf. If anyone wants to challenge this decision, they know how to reach me. Is that understood?”
More silence, save for the weight of Sergeant Rhames moving from one leg to the other.
Rowan’s hand stops in my hair, and for some reason I am the one feeling nervous over this whole thing. I can practically feel the tension wafting over in the air like a winter blanket of snow.
“Is. That. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” he finally says, and I can see Rowan tilting his head, observing him with a subtle smile lifting in the corner of his mouth. The kind you definitely don’t want to be around.
Then Sergeant Rhames’s feet start moving away from the desk, and I breathe out my nerves when I realize he’s gone, my body going loose under Rowan’s touch.
“Good morning, angel. Sleep well?”
I look up at him with big, concerned eyes, nodding softly as I meet his stare.
“I was kind of hoping you’d walk in here naked, the way I left you in our bed. But since you chose to wear my shirt instead of yours, I can’t be too mad about it.”
Our bed.
“But then Sergeant Rhames…” I mumble. “He would’ve seen me. All of me.”
“Yes,” he smiles. “And he would’ve hated me even more than he does. Because he can’t have you, angel. No one else can.”
My nipples harden at the dominance in his voice, and a whimper drags out of my throat. If he wants to share me, he will. If he wants to keep me away from everyone else, he will. Whatever he wants to do, he will do it. All the while my heart and my body keep on telling him yes.
“I quite like the sight of you on your knees,” he grunts, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” I say in a hushed tone. “I like it too. I like following your orders.”
His eyes soften for just a moment before he drags his free hand over his face.
“Where have you been all my life, angel? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You know that?”
I smile, his hand tightening on my neck possessively. Until I remember—
“Rowan?”
“Hmm?”
“What was all that about? Is the war starting again?”
“The war never truly ended, angel.”
“But the press… they’re saying…”
“The press is lying. There was a short time frame where it looked like we’d won. But unfortunately, things are rarely that straightforward.”
