Page 53 of Awakening the Beast
Everyone's attention shifts to the door as Wren finally enters. I stay in the same position, observing everyone’s expression. As she walks past me, she brushes her palm across my shoulders in a silent apology. I keep my gaze fixed on her, noting the way herhips and ass sway, and my eyes follow her tanned legs in those high heels until they disappear from view.
She approaches the chair furthest from me, on the other side of the extended table, and pulls it out. She takes her seat while setting her phone on the table. The Elites around us begin to greet her back with murmured welcomes. She offers a modest but stern smile, a hint of the badass side I hadn’t seen from her before.
As she settles in, tucking her chair neatly under the table, her brown eyes finally lift to meet mine. Our gazes lock, but there’s no acknowledgement of our relationship—no smile, no sign of the dark love we share outside of these walls. It’s a strange, detached greeting that speaks volumes, but it kind of makes sense.
The room waits in silence, all eyes on me and I continue to tug on my bottom lip, still focused entirely on her, before finally giving her a slight nod to take charge. She straightens up, her posture now more assertive as she scans the room filled with Elite criminals.
“So, what do you have for me this evening?” she asks.
I watch her handling each Elite with a sharp aura, answering their questions and concerns with ease. When she doesn’t have an answer because she hasn’t been here, she glances my way, and I respond with the necessary information.
Observing her in this role is fucking jarring. It’s as if my view of her has shifted dramatically, and the more I see her throw her power around, the more it churns something dark in me. I’m torn between fierce respect and a raw, animalistic urge todominate and degrade her. I want nothing more than to shove my entire cock down her throat the more the minutes pass.
Despite her undeniable skill and the respect she’s earning in the room, there’s a deep, unsettling desire in me to remind her of her fucking place. Beneath me. Always beneath me. It makes me want to strip away her classiness, to remind her of the power I hold over her and always will. The make her remember the slut she is for me when no one is around.
As the Elites start muttering among themselves, Wren and I lock eyes once more. She offers a brief, confident smile before her gaze shifts to her phone. I catch a glimpse of her typing, and just seconds later, my own phone vibrates in my pocket. I raise an eyebrow, intrigued, and reach for my phone, slipping it beneath the table to discreetly check the message.
[Thank you for my roses. They were beautiful. x]
I respond, my jaw tightening as I type:
[Roses? What fucking roses?]
Her reply comes through almost immediately, accompanied by a mischievous smile that I catch from across the table:
[Oh, it must have been my sideman. My bad. x]
I take a deep breath, my gaze shifting to her with narrowed eyes. I catch her smirking, clearly ready for a sparring match, and I’m more than willing to play.
[You got fucking panties on or what?]
I watch as she looks down at her phone screen, her previous confident demeanor slipping into something more vulnerable which does something to my dick. She reclines in her chair, hergaze shifting away from mine, and I can see the slight flush in her cheeks. I have to force back a grin at her reaction as I continue to make her squirm.
[Fuck, you’ve got me solid under this fucking table. Seeing you like this makes me want to choke the class out of that slut mouth. Remind you who you will always fall to your knees for when you’re not playing boss to all these powerful men. They will never know what it’s like to see my Wren’s big brown eyes filled with tears, so pretty and pleading while her throat is being coated with my cum.”
As soon as her phone vibrates, she gazes down at it, her eyes scanning over the words and when she’s done, they lift to mine. She takes a hard swallow but decides to not respond or push me any further, but unluckily for her, I want to play our fucked games.
[Rub your cunt out for me. I want you soaking your little panties.]
When she reads the message from the corner of her eye, she acts like she didn’t see it and continues to look everywhere but at me. My teeth grind as she disobeys me, so I go to the peak of my assholeness.
[Do it or I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you in the ass with the handle of my knife in front of all these motherfuckers.]
She glances at the screen before double-taking, her eyes widening, then she looks straight at me, but I decide to text her again since she’s still being stubborn.
[Play with me, slut. Tick fucking tock.], I add.
We stare intensely at one another for a beat before I see her inhale deeply, pursing her lips together, but like my good little girl, she reluctantly lowers her hand beneath the table.
Her movements are subtle; you wouldn’t know what she’s doing unless you knew, just as I do. Which drives me wild. When her eyes grow heavy and her pouty lips part ever so slightly, I can feel my cock hardening, growing painfully heavy and I have the urge to call this whole fucking meeting off so I can finish her.
I can tell she doesn’t stop touching her greedy pussy the entire time, and when it’s finally over, I can sense she’s on the edge. Everyone stands, but I stay seated and so does Wren, of course.
As soon as the room is emptied, I sit forward, place my palms on the table in front of me, and calmly rise without breaking eye contact with her.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I command through clenched teeth, the tension in my balls, almost unbearable.
She doesn't; I can see she doesn't. Her hand movements are much more aggressive now that she knows she can touch herself more freely. I stand slowly stride around the long table toward her. When I stop, I squeeze in front of her and lean against the table, my hands in my pants pockets. My eyes rake down her body as she pants heavily until they settle on her hand in her black lace panties.
