Page 15 of Under His Command
He’s my monster. And now I serve under his command.
SIX
When I wake up, I spread my fingers across Rowan’s side of the bed—a cold, empty mess of sheets. And I can’t help but wonder if all of last night has been nothing but a dream, just like the many others I’ve had of him.
But I scan my eyes around the room, and I know it wasn’t. His scent still lingers all over me—of leather and pine—and I bask in it like a cat kneading in soft cushions.
Last night was… intense. He had me wrapped around his finger with his low voice and his demeaning orders that made me want to beg for more of him. And that tongue. God, that tongue…
My pussy jolts awake at the memory, and I bite my lip, wondering why he isn’t here to make good on the promise he mentioned before we fell asleep. I drape my legs over the mattress and pick up Rowan’s immaculate shirt from yesterday that I find tossed across one of the armchairs. I walk out into the hallway while buttoning it all the way down.
The hotel suite has quite a bunch of rooms, and I have no idea where to even look for him. But it doesn’t take long before butterflies come to life in my stomach at the sound of his voice coming from one of them. I can’t help my smile from spreading across on my face.
He’s here. And he’s mine. And—
“Kill them all,” he says, dragging a silent gasp out of me.
I press myself to the wall next to what seems to be his temporary office, shock spreading through my body. I don’t dare move a muscle or make a noise. Because I know, even if we’ve just reconnected, that what I’ve just heard isn’t the voice of my Rowan. It’s the voice of the Commander himself.
“With all due respect, Commander, this would cause massive backlash if it somehow got out,” another voice answers. A voice that’s not too soft, but not too tense either—as if the man wants to take control of the situation, but Rowan’s mind keeps pushing against his own, never giving him the opportunity to do so.
“Backlash is the least of my concerns, Sergeant. We want to win this war, not bat our eyelashes to the public for sympathy.”
“But if it gets out…”
“Then make sure it doesn’t. Excuse me one moment— Angel, stop hiding like a little mouse and come sit with me,” he hollers, and my heart leaps to my throat.
Fuck.
“I…um… I’m not decent right now.”
“Even better.” I can practically see the dark smile etching across his face.
“I’m sorry,” I’m quick to say, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll make myself scarce until you—”
“Dove,” he growls, and goose bumps pebble my skin as my body registers the low vibrations of his voice. “If I wanted you to leave, I’d have said so. Come here. I won’t ask again.”
With shallow breaths I walk through the doorframe, my cheeks burning with shame as I come face-to-face with Rowan. He’s sitting at a huge mahogany desk, all dressed up, talking to another man whose uniform doesn’t show a single crease.
“Don’t be shy, angel. Sergeant Rhames won’t bite.”
But I am shy. I am so fucking shy, and the thought of another man seeing me walk in wearing nothing but Rowan’s shirt makes me want to disappear into thin air. It also makes me horny as fuck.
As quietly and quickly as possible, I tiptoe to Rowan’s side of the desk until I finally see the face of this other man. He’s tall and muscular, his skin a russet, reddish-brown color. And he doesn’t look uncomfortable at all to see me—as if he’s used to Rowan’s ways and insanity.
Or as if… Rowan’s done this before. With other women. The thought sends daggers through my heart but I try to remain unfazed as Rowan extends his hand toward me and pulls me in.
“Perfect,” he says, offering up praises while looking me up and down with a smile. “Be a good girl and sit quietly while I finish this conversation.”
I look around, but there’s no other chair. Where does he want me to sit?
“On your knees, angel.”
Oh, fuck.
My cheeks flush and my pussy clenches, eager to please him in whichever way he wants. Sergeant Rhames doesn’t react, though I try my hardest to avoid his stare.
I could call in my safe word. Pink—I could say it right now if I wanted to. But I don’t. Whatever Rowan has got planned for me today, I want all of it. I want to lick my plate clean.
