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The building is quiet, too quiet. You shift the weight of the rifle on your shoulder, fingers curling around the grip tighter. You’ve got a bad feeling about this. Something feels off. Intelligence had said you and your squad might be walking into a firefight, but so far everything had been still.
Beside you, your teammate, Diaz, stands uneasily. She fiddles with the pendant of Saint Christopher that she wears on her necklace. You’re glad the troubled feeling is mutual.
“November Squad, call in,” you whisper into the headset, as you make your way deeper into the building.
The hallway seems to stretch ten miles in front of you. A single doorway stands at the end of it. The flashlight attached to your rifle is the only source of light in the dark corridor. The beam bobs, casting a ghostly glow over the peeling paint and exposed pipes. Water drips onto the stone floor, echoing loudly in the quiet space.
“November Squad, call in .” You repeat, edging closer to the room. “Diaz and I are approaching the hostages now. What is your location?”
“Second floor.” Comes the crackling voice of one of your teammates. “Closing in from the west staircase.”
“Approaching from the east hallway.”
“They’re still sweeping hallways, when they should be down here,” Diaz mutters. “What’s the move boss? We gonna wait?”
You think for a moment. “We don’t know who these people are or what they want. They might kill one of the hostages, or get away. We’re going in.”
Diaz nods and follows your lead.
You gesture to her to move to the other side of the hallway and walk on ahead of her. She opens the door quietly and you slink in, guns ready.
The room is large...and empty. No furniture, no hostiles, no hostages. Just crates of boxes stacked high against the farthest wall.
You look around, confused, and lower your gun. “What the fuck is going on?” You turn to Diaz and sigh.
“I don’t know. Intelligence said this was the spot, but--”
“Hands up! Now! Drop your weapon!” A voice yells. “Now, and no funny business, we have you surrounded.
“ Shit ,” you mumble and turn around with your hands up.
Several red lasers swarm around your bulletproof vest. Their owners, Delta Squad, rest against the crates, guns aimed at you and Diaz.
The lights flare on. You pull your helmet off and blink rapidly in the sudden brightness. The rest of your squad piles in through the door, along with Anvil’s owner, Billy Russo, who does not seem happy at all to see you.
“What went wrong?” He simply asks, looking at each soldier until his eyes land on yours. “Any takers?”
Diaz slings her rifle over her shoulder and puts her hands on her hips. “Our intelligence was compromised.”
“And who’s in charge of verifying that?”
“I am,” you say quietly.
“But you didn't, right? Or you wouldn’t have multiple rifles aimed at your back right now.” Billy crosses his arms over his chest. “ And you didn’t properly secure the area, or you would have noticed Rick and the nine other soldiers behind you. Whose idea was it to charge in here all cocksure?”
“Mine.” You clench your jaw and look him right in the eyes. “I thought--”
He stalks across the room to stand in front of you. “Oh did you think ?” He barks. “Because rational thought would tell you to wait for backup, instead of walking into a possible firefight alone.”
“I had backup,” you snap. “Sir, with all due respect, the mission was to rescue the hostages alive . I couldn’t wait for more people. They could have been dead by then.”
“Where are the hostages?” Billy asks. “Where are they, Delta?”
“There are none, Mr. Russo,” Rick says. “We’re the ones who gave the bad intel. The plan was to lure them here and pick them off.”
You glare at Rick. “I didn’t know sabotage was part of our training exercises now.”
Rick shrugs. “You would have if you bothered to verify your intel.”
“Eat a dick, Rick,” Diaz mumbles under her breath.
Billy holds up a hand, drawing everyone’s attention once more. “You thought you could have just rushed in here like heroes, then. Two guns against ten. You think this would have had a happy ending in the real world?”
You bite your tongue.
Billy scoffs. “This is not a game. This is real life. It’s war. People die . Out there they would have shot you without warning as soon as you got through the door.” He pokes a finger into your shoulder. “You know what happens then? We’re a covert operation, so your heroics won’t even make the news. You won’t be buried with honors, and your family will get some made-up story about the circumstances surrounding your death. You’ll have died for nothing but your stupidity. And you would have taken Diaz with you.”
“I stand by my decision,” you say quietly.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be making the decisions!” Billy raises his eyebrows. “At least not here.”
It’s quiet for a beat as the words sink in, planting little seeds of doubt in everyone’s minds. Your hands shake with humiliation. Sure, it was a dumb mistake, but why did he have to correct you so publicly? Why did he have to question your authority and skill in front of your entire squad?
“I don’t like looking stupid. So no more bad decisions, or we’ll be making other arrangements for your employment. Understand?”
You nod, grinding your teeth to hold in your suggestion of just where Russo could stick his other arrangements.
“Good. Reset everything and run it again. C’mon people!” Billy yells. “No mistakes this time.” He looks you up and down and turns on his heel.
He walks off without another word. You stare after him with a scowl twisting your lips. A mix of shame and anger heats your cheeks and makes your throat tight. You swallow thickly and shake your head, blinking back the embarrassing tears that have formed at the corner of your eyes and threaten to fall down your cheeks.
You won’t cry. Not in front of them. In front of him .
The others stand around you with their heads down. They shift awkwardly from foot to foot. It’s like they’re trying to shrink themselves to avoid being Billy’s next target. Or worse, yours . You’re not a bully though, you wouldn’t dare embarrass them like this.
You clear your throat and roll your shoulders back. “You heard Russo. Let’s run it again. No mistakes.” You put your helmet on and walk back into the hallway.
The next simulation goes well, and the next, and the next. Your team moves like a well-oiled machine. Quick, precise. You move in and out of the mazes, rescuing hostages without a single casualty or team loss. Billy’s explosion had given you all something to prove, and so you were at the top of your game. It’s the best your group has ever been.
But even a personal best wasn’t enough to turn Billy’s frown upside down. He watches you with a blank face, lips pressed together and hands clasped behind his back. When the training ends, he dismisses you all with just a nod. Try as you might, you can’t help the disappointment that settles nauseatingly deep in your stomach.
The bad mood follows you all the way to the locker room, like a dark cloud. You peel off your uniform top with a sigh, and sit on the floor. The cool metal lockers feel heavenly against your sweaty back. You tilt your head back and close your eyes. Rage still twists in your chest, and Billy’s harsh words rattle around in your skull. You try to focus on slowing your breaths, and settling your thoughts on things other than murder and pointy things.
The rest of November Squad hits the showers, noisily chattering about evening plans. You listen to the spray of the showers, picking up bits of conversation here and there. Jones talks about the cadet she’s screwing, Parker complains about community college and life after the Army.
“You can’t just shoot your way into a job .”
“ Lucky you found this one then .”
Wet footsteps squelch across the tile floors and stop in front of you. “Hey.”
You lazily open an eye to find Diaz standing over you. She wraps a towel around her wet body and runs a brush through her curling hair.
“Don’t worry about what Russo said earlier. Delta was playing dirty anyways,” she says.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like anyone’s gonna fight fair in the real world.” You shrug. “He was right, I should have verified the intel, and I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”
Diaz shakes her head. “He didn’t have to be such a huge dick about it. And you didn’t drag me into anything, I go wherever the fuck I wanna go.”
You laugh. “I’m pretty sure that’s his natural state.” You smile up at her. “Thanks though.”
She offers you a hand and you take it. “You’re the best out there. And I’d follow you any day. Don’t let that asshole ruin your day.”
“I’ve got something else he could ruin,” Jones says cheekily as she walks back to her locker.
Diaz’s top lip curls in disgust. “You’ll fuck anything with two legs.”
“And I’ll enjoy it too.” Jones puts a hand on her hip. “It’s not the 90s, Diaz, slutshaming isn’t cool anymore.”
Diaz holds up her hands. “Not shaming. Just stating the facts.” She raises her eyebrows at you and starts getting dressed.
You set about stripping off the rest of the tactical equipment and change into your street clothes as they bicker behind you. You’ll shower at home later, in the peace and quiet of your own apartment. But first, you have to go knock Billy down a few pegs.
Diaz and Jones are still arguing about him when you leave the locker room a few minutes later. Diaz gags comically loud at Jones’ theory that he would be a good lay. If only they knew . They don’t even hear your half-hearted goodbye.
You sling your gym bag over your shoulder and head straight for Billy’s office. Your footsteps echo loudly off the empty hallway of the fourth floor where all the other mostly vacant offices are located. Billy’s is at the end of the corridor, big and spacious, just like his ego. He probably requested it himself. You storm into the room, not even bothering to knock.
His gaze stays on his computer, even when you loudly slam the door behind you.
“What the fuck was that?” You ask, dropping your bag to the floor.
Slowly, Billy’s eyes leave whatever he’s working on. He looks infuriatingly smug as his dark eyes reach yours. “What was what?” He asks, a smirk spreading over his face.
“ That . Chastising me in front of everyone,” you clarify, even though you don’t have to. Billy knows what he did. It’s why he looks like the fucking Cheshire Cat right now.
Billy leans back in his chair, fingers tapping on the plastic arms of it. “You made a mistake, I corrected you.”
“You didn’t correct me, you humiliated me. There’s a difference.”
He makes a noncommittal sound and shrugs.
“This was my first goddamn mistake, and you single me out like I’m some E-1.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Meanwhile, Charlie Squad trips over their own feet every three seconds and you don’t even notice.”
“You’re mad because I noticed you?” Billy laces his fingers together. His silver watch catches the harsh light of the office.
“No, I’m mad because you were being an unfair prick, and you can’t even own up to it. There was no reason for you to chew me out like that. I’m the best out there. They all know it. You know it. That’s why you made me squad leader.”
Billy studies you for a moment with sharp eyes. You stand in the center of the room, heart pounding so hard you can feel it in your ears. Confronting Billy seemed like a good idea in the moment, but now that you’re standing in front of him, and he’s looking at you with cool indifference, you’re thinking twice.
“Say something!” You snap, as an uneasy silence fills the room and sets you on edge.
He stands, leaning forward over his desk. “I ‘chewed you out’ because you made a rookie mistake. That’s fine for the newbies, but I expect more from you.”
You huff. “That doesn’t give you the right to--”
Billy snaps his fingers, cutting you off. Your voice falters at his audacity. If any other man had done that, you’d break his fingers. But Billy’s irritated motion has you choking on your tongue.
“I wasn’t finished.” He walks around his desk, playing with the cuffs of his suit jacket. “I don’t want you thinking I’ll take it easy on you just because we’re sleeping together,” He says it so blase, and though you’re safe within the walls of his office, you still want to tell him to be quiet. “I want you at your best, because when you’re at your best you’re more useful to me.”
His words sting, but what hurts worse is the truth behind them. You were nothing more than an investment to him, an expensive one, and sleeping with you was just insurance. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s exactly what you’d signed up for in that bar 6 months ago, it’s exactly what you wanted today. Still, he didn’t need to be so harsh about it.
You open your mouth to speak, and shut it dumbly. “You’re so full of shit,” you mumble, looking down at the floor.
“Oh.” Billy’s voice is equal parts amused and pitiful. It’s almost cruel. “Did you think I’d say sorry?” He asks.
You clench your jaw, eyes still on your sneaker clad feet. It was exactly what you’d wanted.
He crosses the room, stopping mere inches from you. If you breathe too deeply you can smell his rich cologne. The sweet scent of it fills your head, and makes you dizzy. Everything about him makes you dizzy; the smell of him, the warmth of his body, those deep, dark eyes that seem to see everything. They’re fixed on you now and you stare into them helplessly, like a deer in headlights.
He leans even closer, completely invading your senses. You don’t shrink away. “I don’t apologize.”
Billy Russo is hypnotic. And addicting. And dangerous . Like a sharp knife with an ornate handle. Pretty but fatal. Yet despite all rational thought, you keep crawling back to him. It’s like there’s an itch you need scratched, and only Billy can do that for you.
“Are you done with your tantrum?” He asks.
You shoot him a look that would kill lesser men, but Bily just grins. It’s all a game to him, a little match of cat and mouse. He enjoys this far too much, pushing you to the brink of your anger and then some, just to see what would happen when you broke. Well two could play at this game.
“Depends, are you done being a fucking dick?” You take a step forward. You’re now chest to chest, breathing the same air. You catch the sharp bite of spearmint on his breath.
Billy clicks his tongue. “If you can’t take corrections, then maybe you’re not ready for squad leader just yet. I’ll give it to Diaz instead, she’s far less... emotional .”
You roll your eyes. “Fuck you, Russo.”
“Oh, I bet you want to. I can see it in your eyes.” He tilts his head to the side. “What do you think your teammates would say if they knew how you were begging me to fuck you two days ago? Would they think you were as good a leader then, or just good in bed? I guess I could help them answer that question.”
His last comment burrows under your skin, breaking your resolve. Your hand arcs towards his face, striking his skin with a loud crack . Billy doesn’t even flinch, just grabs your wrist and wrenches it behind your back. He turns you around and bends you over his desk, his back pressing your chest down into the wood.
Billy laughs. “Your swing needs work.”
“Let me go.” You struggle in his grip, but he just crowds you further into the desk.
“ No . You hit me, and I’d like an apology.” His lips brush the back of your neck and you shiver, but stubbornly set your jaw. “I bet you’re turned on right now, aren’t you? Are your panties soaked through? Did you ruin them?” He presses his knee between your legs and you bite back a moan.
He’s right, they are. Some absurd part of you is enjoying all of this. And judging by the bulge pressed against your ass, Billy is too.
“I know they are.” Billy bites the shell of your ear. “Look at you. You should be struggling to get away, but here you are, bent over and waiting for me to do something. What do you want, hm?” He rolls his hips against your butt, and a deep groan rumbles in his throat. “Want me to fuck you into my desk? Is that why you stomped into my office like a toddler?”
You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, choking down another needy sound. It wasn’t the main reason, no. You’d had every intention of giving Billy a piece of your mind. But part of you hoped for an apology. It didn’t matter the form of that apology, you’d just wanted him to admit he was wrong.
You can’t say you’re completely against the direction this confrontation has gone.
“So what if I do?” You say through gritted teeth.
“I’d say there are easier ways to get what you want,” Billy mumbles. “Like asking .”
“Maybe I wanted to fight.”
He pulls you back up so you’re standing. “You might not like that you did that.” His fingers fit into the space underneath your chin, and he turns your head slightly so you can see him. “See, I don’t really like being yelled at.”
“You deserved it, for being such a grade A asshole.”
“If I’m such an asshole, why are you here right now, begging me to fuck you?” Billy grunts, he releases his grip on your wrist, but keeps it pinned between your bodies. His hand, now free, slides down the front of your body and pops the button on your jeans.
His fingers find your clit and this time you can’t help the breathless whimper that leaves your lips. “I’m not begging you to fuck me,” you choke out.
“Not yet.” Billy kisses your jaw. “But you will.”
The hand on your throat slides down to ruck your shirt up around your waist. He pulls the neckline of your sports bra down to expose your chest to his wandering fingers. Billy squeezes your breast roughly and pinches your nipple between his fingers. You arch into his touch, head falling back against his shoulder. His other hand burrows deeper into your pants, and he rubs your clit a little harder. A moan bubbles up from your throat and out into the room.
“Shh.” Billy whispers gruffly in your ear. “You didn’t lock the door. We don’t want any visitors.”
You do your best to keep quiet, but it’s hard work when you’re already focused on just staying upright as his hands massage and pinch at your body. Billy takes his time with you. The pressure on your clit isn’t enough to get you anywhere, his fingers serve only to keep you hot and bothered. You squirm in his grip, wanting something more to take the edge off.
“Stay still,” Billy mutters, holding you tighter against him. His lips trail down your neck, leaving kisses and bites behind. He mouths against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to make you gasp, and soothes the bite with the tip of his tongue.
You wiggle your trapped hand down to palm at the bulge in Billy’s slacks. He groans against your throat, and places another open-mouthed kiss there. His hips rock against your hand as he pants dewy, hot breaths against your bruised skin.
“ Fuck ,” he mumbles when you squeeze him. “Feel how hard I am?”
You nod. It’s making your mouth water. You want him to fuck you so badly it almost hurts.
Billy hums, still grinding his hips into yours. “Whose fault is that?”
“Didn’t know me being a brat was such a turn on for you.” Your breath catches in your throat when Billy pinches your clit between two deft fingers.
“Yeah, well, don’t make a habit of it.” His fingers play with your dripping folds. “ Shit , you’re fucking soaking. This all for me, huh?” He pulls his hand out of your pants and holds his fingers up in front of you. They glisten with your arousal and Billy beams proudly. “Y’like when I’m a little rough with you, don’t you? Like when I’m mean?”
You do like it. More than you probably should.
You whine in the affirmative, and Billy chuckles darkly.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he says, low and throaty. “I’m gonna bend your pretty ass over my desk and fuck you. And I’m not stopping until I’ve made a mess of you. You’re gonna take every fucking thing I give you. You understand?” His words are punctuated by another nip to your ear. “Well, do you?”
“ Yes ,” your voice cracks with desire. You’re absolutely thrumming with it. It burns in your blood, singing your veins.
“That what you want?” Billy asks and pushes you down over his desk again. “Want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in and see you spreading your legs for me?” He pushes your pants down roughly and knocks your legs apart with a soft kick to your ankle. “Want me to manhandle you?”
You nod, cheek rubbing against the hardwood. Another wave of desire rushes through you, straight to your cunt, and you clench around nothing.
He leans over you, fingers rubbing against your entrance. “Beg for it.”
“P-please, Billy.”
“‘ P-please, Billy, ’” he mocks you. You can feel his grin against your neck. “C’mon, use that smart mouth and tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me, please. I need you.”
“You need me huh?” He dips his fingers into you shallowly, but pulls them out just as quickly. “I don’t believe you.”
“Billy, please,” you whimper, hips chasing his retreating digits. “Want you so fucking bad. Need you to fuck me. Please .”
Billy pins you in place. “You’re getting there.” He rewards you with a twist of his wrist, and even that is enough to make your knees weak. “Keep going.”
You whine. “Want you to make me feel good. I--” You suck in a deep breath. “Need you so fucking bad, I’m so wet.”
“Yeah, you are. Dripping down my fucking wrist.” Billy’s fingers crook inside you, knuckle deep. “I’m gonna fuck you, pretty girl, but here’s the catch. I don’t wanna hear another sound out of that smart mouth. You make a single fucking noise, and I’m gonna stop. So keep quiet, honey. Got it?”
You nod once, lips pressed together.
Billy kisses your jaw. “Good girl. I hope you’re a better listener now than you were earlier.”
He kneels down behind you and pulls your sneakers off. Your jeans and panties are then wrestled off your body by his impatient hands. Billy tosses them behind him, and runs his fingers up your inner thighs. You wait, bottom lip trapped between your teeth, as he pauses to take you in, eyes roaming your body.
Billy groans under his breath at the sight of your ruined underwear. You’ve nearly soaked them through, turning the lace a shade darker. He rubs at your clothed folds, and you squeeze your eyes shut, face screwed up in an effort to stay silent.
“Want me so badly, don’t you?” He bites the swell of your ass, fingers slipping past your panties to play with the wetness gathered there. “Yeah, I can feel it.”
Billy slides your ruined panties down your legs and slips them into his pocket. You’re glad it’s not your favorite pair, as there’s a less than 5% chance you’ll ever be seeing those again. He trails slow, teasing kisses up your calf and thigh, and your breath hitches.
“Look at you trying so hard to stay quiet.” He parts your thighs with his thumbs and blows cool air over your folds. “I guess you only listen when you’re getting something you want,” he mumbles.
Billy’s tongue dips out to run lightly over your cunt, and you press your hand against your mouth. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pulls your hips back against his face and dives in. He eats you out in a sloppy flurry, trading teasing kisses for long strokes of his tongue. His lips reach your clit, and he slurps it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it with an intensity that has you seeing stars. And with each and every lick, each suck and moan from him, you have to bite down on your tongue to keep from crying out.
“Taste so sweet,” Billy praises, and his fingers rub circles into your clit once more.
Your fingers curl around the edge of the desk, and you grind back onto his face shamelessly. This time he allows your desperate, lilting movements, even encourages them with a spank to your clit. Billy lets you use him as you chase down the orgasm buried deep inside you. He pushes his face between your thighs, burying muffled moans into your cunt.
You’re so close to the edge. Your legs shake and your stomach tightens with the promise of it. You choke on sweet moans and desperate whines, bottom lip swollen from where your teeth have dug into it sharply. You want to tell him how good it feels, how you’re right there and hanging by a thread. You want him to hear just how needy he makes you, want to beg for him to give you the pleasure you crave.
But you can’t. And so you bite down on your middle finger and surrender to the bliss building inside of you. It sweeps over you in a burst of white, overtakes you in a blaze. You fall limp against the desk, heaving shuddery breaths. Billy doesn’t let up, working you through it until you squirm away from him with a broken gasp at the sensitivity.
Billy leaves a last kiss to the back of your thigh and stands. You hear the shuffle of clothing as he pulls his belt free and pushes his slacks down far enough to free his cock. You feel the cool leather caress the skin of your lower back and ass. A shiver runs the length of your spine, and it takes everything in you to keep your composure as he teases you with the belt.
He hums under his breath. “If only we were at my place,” he muses, tapping the belt against your skin. “So many lost opportunities all because you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut,” Billy tsks. “Gimme your arms.”
You hesitate. You don’t think you’ll be able to keep quiet without a hand covering your mouth.
Billy snaps the belt against your skin a little harder, and the dull slap echoes through his office. You jump forward with a quiet squeak, breaking the cardinal rule, but Billy doesn’t seem to care.
“You really gonna make me repeat myself?” He asks.
You shake your head, and offer him your hands. Billy pulls them taut behind your back and circles his belt around your wrists. He runs a finger along the inside of the makeshift restraints to check the snugness and adjusts them so they’re more comfortable. When he’s done, Billy pins you to the desk, a filthy promise on his lips.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he whispers, hard cock pressed against your ass. “Gonna fuck you so hard.”
You want it so badly you ache with it.
“Not a sound,” Billy warns you sternly. He slots a hand between your thighs to gather your arousal and slicks it over himself. He groans low in his throat at the squeeze of his fingers. “Can’t wait to be inside you.” Billy presses himself against your entrance.
The sound he makes when he thrusts into you is nothing short of filthy reverence. He’s never been a quiet lover, but you think he might be playing it up to taunt you now. Either way, his cracked moan sends a shock to your clit, and you bite your bottom lip so hard you might have drawn blood.
Billy’s fingers wrap around the belt binding your hands, and he uses it for leverage as he fucks into you with brutal thrusts. The harsh snap of his hips against your thighs jolts the desk forward, and the room fills with the mixed sounds of skin on skin and creaking wood.
Oh , and Billy’s moans. Pretty little throaty sounds that drip from his tongue like honey. He’s making enough noise for the both of you. But that’s part of the illusion--he’s the owner of the company, pretty much untouchable. You’re vulnerable. He’s completely in charge, just the way he likes it.
“What if someone walked in right now and saw you bent over my desk? Saw you taking my cock like you were made for it?” He grunts. “You’re such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you in my office where anyone could see. I bet it’d just turn you on more.”
Fuck . Your nails dig crescents into your palms. The pain of it adds to the pleasure.
Billy runs a hand up your spine to press against the back of your throat. He pushes you down further into the desk as he takes what he wants from you. With your hands bound behind your back, and your body pinned in place by his weight, you’re helpless to do anything but surrender. And you surrender to it all willingly.
It’s heavenly. Every drag of his cock within you, every brush of his skin on your own sends you into a frenzy. And when he thrusts just right , and brushes that elusive spot within you, you tighten around him, tears springing to your eyes as you choke down a wail.
Billy notices the strain of your body, of course he does. He rubs a thumb over your cheek.
“Hard to stay quiet, isn’t it? Why, does it feel too good?” He teases, thrusting balls-deep inside of you and then grinding slowly. “Let me help.” Billy pulls his tie loose and lifts it over his head. He balls it up and presses it against your mouth. “Open.” When your lips do part, he stuffs the fabric between them.
“Good girl.” His nails dig into your hips and he returns to his ruthless pace.
You bite down on the tie, toes curling against the carpeted floor. Your chest arches off the table, and Billy takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers around your throat. He flexes them, briefly restricting the airflow, and your world bursts into static.
It’s like some kind of out of body experience. You’re done for the moment Billy reaches around to rub your clit. Your body goes taut, jaw falling slack and you can’t help the muffled cry that leaves your lips as you reach that peak of ecstasy. It’s an explosion, almost nuclear. The blast leaves you shivering and shaking as the waves crash over you.
“Shit . You’re so pretty when you come for me.” Billy pulls you flesh against his body, lips against your ear. “Gonna make me fucking come. You want it? Want it deep inside you?”
You nod.
“Yeah, of course you do. Little slut.” He growls. “Take every fucking drop.”
Billy buries his face into your neck, biting you sharply as his rhythm grows erratic. He thrusts into you a few more times, before coming inside of you with a loud groan. His hips roll slowly as he fills you with his warmth. You fall back against his chest, eyelids fluttering shut as his hips still.
You stay pressed against him for a moment as the blood pulsing in your veins returns to normal, and your breathing slows. He fumbles to undo the belt around your hands, and it clatters to the floor with a dull thud.
“That’s a good girl.” Billy kisses the bruise blooming on your throat. He pulls out of you with a quiet groan and you turn on wobbly legs, leaning back against the desk for balance.
Billy cups your chin and tilts your head to meet his eyes. You stare at him for a moment, heartbeat spiking at the still hungry flash in his eyes. He pulls the tie from your mouth and kisses you filthily, pushing you back onto his desk.
Two fingers slide into your spent cunt, playing with his cum inside of you and you whine. Your fingers grab his wrist, and you’re not sure if you’re pulling him closer or pushing him away.
“Feel that?” He murmurs against your lips, and curls his fingers.
“Yes. Fuck --ah, Billy.” It’s too much. It’s not enough.
“Good.” Billy tugs your bottom lip between his teeth. “Remember that next time you think I’m being unfair to you. Remember that I always take care of you. I always leave you satisfied.” His fingers leave you. “I don’t do that for just anyone.” He takes a step back and cleans his digits off with his tongue.
You watch him pull his pants back up and fix the wrinkles in his clothing, brain still processing the events of the last half hour.
Billy looks you up and down, a smirk on his face at your stretched shirt and the bruises littering your skin. “Get dressed. I wanna see you here tomorrow, bright early. And make sure you cover those marks. Squad leaders should look presentable.”