BONUS SHORT STORY
Have you read this Bad Boy Alpha Bonus Story?
LOVE IN THE ELEVATOR
(Bonus Scene from Alpha’s Temptation)
By Renee Rose
© Renee Rose Romance
Jackson
I haven’t seen Kylie since I got to work and my wolf is getting cranky.
Usually, once a wolf has claimed his mate, the itchiness to always be near her eases. Or at least I thought it would. But it hasn’t with Kylie. Probably because she’s carrying my pup. Or kitten. We’ll see. I’d be happy with either.
Because I’m possessive as fuck, I prefer to drive into work with Kylie. I like knowing which superhero t-shirt she’s wearing, whether she put on Converse or heels. I like prolonging the time we’re together before we have to be apart. But I had an early meeting this morning, and with the pregnancy, she needs more rest, so I let her sleep in. Now, I drum my fingers on my desk as my executive team reports on the monthly earnings.
A message box pops up on my screen and my wolf is instantly mollified.
BATGIRL4U: Today is our two month anniversary.
All it takes is seeing her moniker and my cock lengthens.
KING1: Oh yeah? From the day we met?
BATGIRL4U: The day you groped me in the elevator.
KING1: I know how and where I want to celebrate
BATGIRL4U: How?
I hesitate, knowing she’s not going to like my answer. I didn’t actually grope her in the elevator. She was interviewing with my company and a power outage stranded us in the elevator together. She’s claustrophobic and had a panic attack. I wrapped my arms around her to press her sternum and activate her calming reflex. That was before she ran her mouth about me. Before I knew she was the hacker who’d nearly taken down my multi-billion dollar company.
KING1: Nailing you in the elevator
BATGIRL4U: Hell, no
I expect that reply. My lips quirk, the thrill of punishing her already making my hips shift to accommodate my growing cock.
KING1: Do you get to tell me no?
BATGIRL4U: … Yes?
KING1: My office, 10 minutes.
Returning my focus to my team, I clear my throat, cutting off the CFO, who is going on about quarterly earnings. “All right, let’s wrap this meeting up. Send the reports to me via email.”
They’re used to me. I’m always abrupt, usually an asshole, although having Kylie has softened me. I watch them file out and loosen my tie.
Kylie walks in and my heart stutters. She’s wearing the same outfit she wore the day we met. Tight t-shirt with the Batgirl symbol in hot pink glitter across her perfect tits under her slender black jacket. Short, fitted skirt, no hose, high heels.
“Lose the jacket,” I command.
Her hips sway as she saunters forward. She knows the power she has over me, even though she lets me call the shots. Gaze locked on mine, she slips the jacket off and tosses it over the back of a chair.
I stand and stride to meet her, hunger for her gnawing at me, even though I claimed her last night. And on our lunch hour yesterday. And that morning. Still, it’s been twelve hours and my wolf is restless to smell her, taste her, watch her come unglued.
I grasp the hem of her t-shirt and yank it up above her glorious breasts, shove the fabric between her lips. “Hold this,” I command and she bites down. I groan when I see my favorite red lace bra, the one she wore the first time I undressed her. I shove the cups down to take in her hardened nipples. She’s not showing yet, but her breasts have grown, swelling more each day. I measure their weight in my hands. I want to suck them rosy, but this is punishment, so I force myself to be content with pinching each nipple.
“Bad girl,” I murmur in her ear as I circle around behind. I smell the sweet honey of her arousal, sense the tremble in her legs. She loves punishment as much as I love giving it.
I propel her forward until she’s up against the full-length windows that give my office a view of the Catalina mountains. The glass is mirrored, so I can see out, but no one can see in. “Hands on the glass, kitten. Spread your legs.” I nudge her high heels apart.
She widens her stance as far as her tight skirt allows. I press my body against her back and reach around to cup her breasts. “Are you allowed to tell me no, baby?” I slide a hand down the front of her until my palm meets the skin of her thigh, then I reverse direction and coast up the inside of her thigh, rucking up her skirt as I go. My fingers reach the apex of her thighs and I cup her mons, pressing the heel of my hand against her clit.
“Jackson,” she moans, dropping the t-shirt from her teeth. I let it go.
“Are you, baby?”
“N-no,” she says hoarsely, head thrown back on my shoulder.
“Who calls the shots, kitten?” I slip my middle finger inside her panties and stroke along her dewy slit. “Hmm?”
“You do.” Her inner thighs tense and shiver as I tap-tap-tap my finger over her clit.
I penetrate her, pushing my digit into her sopping heat, loving the way her responsive little body convulses at the sensation.
“If I want you in an elevator, I get you in an elevator. Don’t I?”
She stiffens slightly. I know this is a challenge for her. It’s not that I want to torture her-I love this female more than I ever believed possible. But I want to help her overcome her past trauma. With the right measure of lust and the trust between us, I think I can get her to lose her phobia of elevators.