Page 32 of Under His Command
I tilt my head backward, my mouth hanging open and my eyes closed shut. Rowan murmurs something into my ear, but I can’t hear it. I’m lost in this feeling of being filled by him in a place no one has ever touched me. And I keep chasing it, squeezing every last drop of pleasure until my hips stop moving on their own accord.
A grunt ripples from Rowan’s chest and he wraps his fist around my hair, tugging my head toward him as he starts fucking my ass the way he needs to. It’s hard and relentless, the pain mixing with the ghost of my orgasm, making me cry out.
Just when I don’t think I can take him anymore, Rowan bites down on my shoulder, replacing the pain with another. It’s going to leave a mark.
“So. Fucking. Perfect,” he breathes out, consumed by chasing his own release. My hands reach out to my sides, wanting to grip something so I can steady myself. But the only thing I can touch are the sides of the desk, which isn’t bringing much stability.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The desk bangs against the wall while he fucks me, and all I can do is hold on for dear life. My eyelashes flutter closed, and I’m feeling dizzy all of a sudden. I know this feeling. My body is shutting down again. But right before I get to voice my safe word, Rowan stops, and warm sticky fluid fills my ass as he tugs my hair until I’m crashing against his hard chest.
I watch Rowan sip on a cup of black coffee with a hand in the pocket of his suit. He’s all dressed and ready to leave. And I’m not thrilled about it. I wish I’d said yes to moving in with him. I don’t know when I’m going to see him again.
“Come here,” he rasps, and my body instantly moves into his. His tongue pushes against the seam of my lips, opening me up. He tastes like coffee and my ginger-mint toothpaste, and I smile into the kiss. “I’m going to miss you, angel. I don’t know when I can see you again, but any chance I get, I’ll take it. My schedule is a bit crazy right now.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, biting my lip. “I understand. Besides, I need to work too.”
He nods, placing another kiss on the top of my head before retrieving something from his chest pocket.
“Come over whenever you want. Even if I’m not there,” he says, opening up my palm to place a key in it. “Security will let you in, no matter the hour.”
“But if you’re not there…”
“I’ll know you visited. It won’t be enough, but at least it’s something.”
“Right,” I smile. He smiles back.
“I’ll see you soon, angel.”
And with that, the warmth of his body leaves mine, and I’m annoyed at myself for how fucking needy I feel. We’ve both got lives we need to get back to, after all. I hear the door opening and closing behind him, leaving me all alone in my apartment with nothing but his scent all over me and his cum still leaking out of my sore ass.
Slowly, I unfreeze myself from the spot where he was holding me, and I head into the shower to get ready for the day. At six in the morning, it’s usually too early to get to the office. But Miss Pratt is already there today. And she’s texted me saying that, apparently, something’s gone wrong with the case and we need to dig into more files.
I lather my hair with shampoo, rinse it out, and put some makeup on once I’m dry. Then I slide into a pair of high-waisted black pants and throw on a cream shirt. By the time I’m ready to leave, it’s six forty-five—still pretty early. Which is why I did not expect to see what I’m seeing right now in front of my apartment complex.
I open the door and dozens of photographers and journalists point their cameras and mics at me. Flashes go off, blinding me, and people talk all over each other, all wanting something from me.
What. The. Fuck.
“What’s it like dating Commander Rowan King?” someone asks.
“I…”
“Does he feel responsible for Cole Finnegan’s death?” someone else asks, making me frown.
“He…”
“Dove! Over here!” A woman gets my attention. “Is it true that the CCSI’s attacks are more serious than what we’ve been led to believe?”
My phone vibrates in my purse, but I don’t dare take it out to look at it. I feel violated just having these people stand in front of me. In front of my home. A man rushes toward me and I step back in fear, though he looks like he wants to help me, for some reason.
“This way, please, Miss Finnegan,” he says, grabbing my shoulder and taking me through the crowd of people as he pushes them away.
“I’m so sorry,” I say when I bump into someone.
The man opens a black SUV for me, and because I’m so disoriented, I rush to get in. Instantly, pain ripples through my ass, making it uncomfortable to sit. Even now, in the midst of chaos, the pain is reminding me of Rowan. This is exactly what he wanted, I realize.
The man closes the door behind me, and although the buzz is gone, now I’m feeling the fear creep in. Who is he? He could be anyone, and I just entered his car like I know him. Fuck.
