Page 86 of Griffin Food

The words I was about to unleash never leave my lips. He is in full brooding, dominant-male mode, beautiful wings spread wide and proud, which he knows I find distracting. I’m rousing myself to give him a piece of my mind regardless, when he lifts a single hand.

“I’ve had a trying night, Violet. Think very carefully before you speak.”

My mouth snaps shut. I didn’t realize until that point that it was open, poised to speak. I glare at him, stomp over to the table, and put the tray down with a clatter.

“Do you wish some time on the cushion first?” he asks pleasantly. “Or shall I just go ahead and spank your impertinent little ass?”

“Neither,” I say, planting my fists on my hips.

“Spanking it is.”

He rises quicker than I can anticipate, fists my arm, and tosses me over his lap. My skirt comes up, and he applies swift, sharp strokes to one cheek and then the other, until I’m a hot and indignant mess, and I’ve no idea what it was I intended to say.

“That stings, you insufferable oaf!”

He huffs a dark laugh and doubles down, moving the spanks to the sit spot, which he knows is extra stingy. Everything is confused in my mind. I strain and squirm. He continues to hold me with ease.

“You’re a very badly behaved little omega. You do not feed other males until you have fed me. That is the natural order of things. I am the Pride Leader. The Pride Leader gets to feed first. That is how it is always done. Only after you have chosen me, may the others mate.”

“Well, it is your own fault,” I snap back, utterly infuriated with his faulty logic. “My pussy has been right here and available for many days. It is you who has chosen not to feed!”

The spanks stop. It takes me several seconds to realize this. He rights me in a rush, drops my ass onto the table, stands, and braces over me. His eyes have taken on a distinctly predatory gleam.

“Is that so?” he purrs.

I squirm a little, hot and wet between my thighs. This is the first time I have openly announced my needs—that I am already his. I might spontaneously combust if only he would put his mouth on me there. Channeling my inner princess, I summon up my best haughty tone. “I believe Fenix has set the bar high. It was little wonder he was glowing when he left the nest.”

He laughs. It has a deep, resonant sound. I would like it a lot more if he were not laughing at me.

“You’re an incorrigible brat,” he says, without any heat. “This is what’s known as topping from the bottom.”

I have no idea what that means. But he rights me, takes a seat in the chair, and indicates the cushion resting on the floor between his spread thighs. “I was not topping from underneath,” I say indignantly.

“From the bottom,” he corrects.

I battle to curb my urge to argue, increasingly convinced he is not, in fact, going to choose to eat me. Worse, I now believe he might make me suffer twice as long because I dared to say that Fenix set the bar high.

His eyes sparkle with amusement. I don’t know what I expected from him today, but it was not this.

“Gods, please,” I say weakly. “I cannot go on like this. Do not make me kneel on the cushion where I must stare at your cock for an hour without a hope of a taste. I’m an omega. I have needs. It is cruel and unfeeling of you to keep me thus.”

He leans back in the chair, definitely still amused. “This is merely you seeking another angle from which to top me from the bottom,” he says dryly.

I still have no idea what he is talking about, only that every word I speak is making it worse. “I want to come,” I blurt out.

The damnable male smirks. “I am very much aware that you wish to come. You are a greedy brat. It doesn’t matter how well your mates fuck you. You are desperate for more. If you had only led with a simpler statement to that effect, we might not be here at all.”

“Well, you made me like this,” I state sullenly. “I was a perfect lady before you came along, making me kneel at your feet and stare at your cock. And then draping me over your desk. Where anyone might see the condition I was in.”

“Not anyone,” he points out. “Darrion, my second.”

“It would be a lot more pleasurable if you would put your mouth on me there.”

He holds up a finger.

“Fine. I won’t negotiate this bottom-topping or whatever that is…” I drop my knees to the cushion. His cock is right there in front of me, jerking against the confines of his pants. It is very distracting. I tell myself that I will not look at it on principle, and yet I am staring at it all the same.

“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he says.