“I…”
“Take a deep breath. In and out, that’s right. Just like that. Let it come, let it go. Give whatever is upsetting you to me. It’s my fault and my brother’s that you’re in this situation, so give it up and give it to me.”
It was the hand on the back of my neck that was the clincher. Big, broad, and sweeping over my skin, back and forth, until the hairs on my nape began to prickle with the sensation—that was what brought it all tumbling out.
“Failing…” I saw Miranda’s imperious looks, heard her snide tone. “Can’t keep a…” I remembered the hot, desperate conversations I had with Lucien, contravening every damn unwritten rule that kept the personal assistant to boss relationship a healthy one. “Not doing…”
That was when I looked up at him, just staring, willing him to know what the fuck I was on about, because I didn’t. I felt wild, out of control, which could have been elating but was instead devastating. I’d come in here all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, full of optimism, and it’d only taken hours for it all to come crashing down.
I was a fucking boss bitch, but I didn’t like to declare that shit, feeling like if you were one, you didn’t need to say nothing. You just went and kicked fucking arse and people stood around and took notes. I chose this job, despite Lucien, despite Miranda. I chose to come in and not just cocoon myself away in the beautiful apartment. I chose to tackle this project, even though it appeared to have been mismanaged up until this point. The challenge of it had excited me, something I hadn’t felt in some time.
In any other context, I’d have saved the fucking day.
Except I’d assumed all I’d need to get through this was my usual beta shit. Be focussed. Strive for excellence. Hold yourself to a high standard, no matter what others think. Divide your task up into smaller ones and then get those fuckers done, so you can ride that lovely feeling of achievement.
Instead, I was in one boss’ office, getting a goddamn neck massage from the other.
And the worst part?
What remained of my beta psyche was screaming at me to save my damn career and put some distance between myself and these guys. I could do as Haze said and take a job with them or work from home. I could do so many things. So why did my neck fall forward, a small groan escaping my lips? Why did I turn to fucking mush as soon as he touched me?
“That’s it…” Beau crooned. “That’s it, omega. Let go and let me.”
His hand moved up and down the entire length of my neck, pushing the collar of my blouse down when it got in his way, and I found myself arching up into that caress, as Beau unlocked something inside me.
It felt good to put myself in his hands, particularly when both of them got involved, strong thumbs pressing into tight muscles and then dragging them down, forcing a shiver from me as the tension was released, but he wasn’t content with just the one response. There was something Pavlovian about this, him realising that he was slowly turning me to goo and going back, over and over, his hands working lower now, into my shoulders, then higher, into my head. He stroked me over and over with those wonderful hands until I got lost in the sensation.
All the shit dropped away. I wasn’t Sage. I wasn’t full of all of my hard rules about the way I should behave, about the way Beau should. I wasn’t a beta or omega, because whatever this was, it’d gone beyond designation, turning me into something primal.
I was just hearts beating in time, mine racing because he was touching me, his because I was letting him. I was just ragged breaths, his and mine, as we reached out and touched something else, something fragile and savage, all at the same time. I was pleasure, so much pleasure—way more than just a massage should induce.
As if summoned by Candy’s words, I felt the aching throb of my nipples, like that terrible sensitivity of just before your period, but without any of the pain. Each aching point rubbed against my sensible beige bra, the soft microfibre somehow a rough abrasion, tugging more and more sensations out of me, causing a gasp to escape my lips at every pass. Then there was the sodden mess of my underwear. I felt a hot, heaviness between my legs, punctuated by a steady pulse that tugged me along, pulling me down deeper.
“I love this.”
His voice was a dark, feline purr.
“I love it when a woman surrenders, puts aside everything that’s worrying her, and just…gives in.” His voice broke on the words, creating a tiny discordant note, but that was smoothed away by another sweep of his thumbs. “When she gives herself to me, but yours, Sage?”
My name pricked at me, a whole lot of…stuff clamouring to be seen to at the sound of it, but I just ignored that. Whatever he was doing, it was sucking me down, down, and away from all of that.
“Yours is…delicious in ways I had no ability to anticipate.” His hand shifted then, swivelling around to run along my throat, slowly moving until it forced my head up. His eyes were bright, bright silver, staring down into mine with an intensity that was hard to witness, right before his full lips quirked up into a smile. “I want to do something. It feels like I’ve been wanting to do this for some time, even though I know it hasn’t been that long. Part of me has been longing to do something like this with my mate for forever, and now, here she is. Are you going to let me, omega? Are you going to give me your surrender and let me pleasure you?”
He could have asked me to walk the One Ring to Mordor right now and I was pretty sure I would’ve agreed, but there was this faint niggle, that this wasn’t what I should be doing. He seemed to see that, watching me more closely than it felt anyone ever had, tracking my every micro response.
“If you want that,” he told me. “If you’re willing to give me that, I promise to make you feel good. I’ll take away all the pain and discomfort and replace it with pleasure, so much pleasure, but I can’t” —I frowned at that, some horrible feeling of loss clawing at me the moment he said those words— “not unless you decide that’s what you want. I’m going to go over to that door and close it.”
I felt his absence hard as soon as he pulled away.
“If you don’t want this, just go through the door. I won’t stop you.”
I watched him move with eyes that felt like they burned in their sockets.
“If you stay exactly as you are, I’ll give you a bottle of water and a coffee, make sure you drink it, and then we’ll get back to work. Or…”
His words hung in the air, heavy with possibilities, and I waited, sure he’d explain each one. Beau smiled at my rapt attention.
“Or you can walk over to Tobias’ couch, hitch up your skirt a little, and sit there, waiting for me to make you feel so damn good. Fair warning—I’ll make you come over and over, omega, until your legs are like jelly and every iota of tension is washed away. I’ll do that and think myself the luckiest man alive if you give me just that.”