Sir?

The moment was a tempest of instinct and escalating pressure. Our clothes were long gone, scattered remnants of the world outside the room. As his hands urged me onto my stomach, a single phrase left my lips before I could think.

"Yes, sir."

The effect was instantaneous and absolute. All motion, all sound, all breath in the room ceased. The silence was heavier than any shout. I rolled back, a cold knot of realization tightening in my stomach, and saw him hovering above me. His eyes were not merely dark; they were pure, fathomless black, a predator's gaze, and the faintest outline of his teeth was visible.

Uh oh, I thought. I hadn't made him mad; I had woken something vast and hungry.

I started to retreat, to give him the space I knew this volcanic reaction required, but his hand rose, an index finger shaking a slow, deliberate No. Immobilized beneath him, I simply watched. He was breathing in great, ragged drafts, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin, his muscles taut and shaking with visible restraint. His hands landed on either side of my head, anchoring him above me.

He lowered his head until his lips brushed my ear, the sound of his voice a low, rough vibration that bypassed my skin and went straight to my core. "Say it again."

I obliged, my voice a little softer, a little more wicked this time, letting him hear the soft, surrendered sound of "Yes, sir."

A sound—half-groan, half-growl—escaped him. He shifted me, pushing me gently onto my belly and sweeping my limbs wide across the bed. I had no idea why, but every fiber of my body obeyed. A thrill shot through me as he retrieved something unexpected: not from a drawer, but from a place I never knew existed between us. The sight of the leather and metal brought a rush of reckless excitement. I buried my face in the sheets, a silent, joyful laugh shaking my body.

He climbed back onto the bed, his husky, deep voice a secret only for my ear. "Color?"

"Green, sir."

His response was a low, guttural noise of approval. The next moment, my wrists were secured to the high posts, followed swiftly by my ankles. I was exposed and utterly open, a masterpiece of surrender for his eyes only.

The first touch was the flogger—a whisper of leather across my back and bottom. It didn't hurt, but it cracked the wall of my control, sending a jolt of fire straight through me. I swore I simply melted.

The Reckoning

Never in my life had I thought that a day of professional assistance would end with me wide open on my boss's bed. His muscles were rigid, the sweat deepening. I watched his eyes flicker—from an intense, human focus to that terrifying, beautiful black. I knew his wolf was close, a beast of need and possessiveness fighting for release.

All my most vulnerable parts were utterly exposed, and in that moment, I felt only a breathless, reckless desire.

"Yellow means slow down, princess. Red means stop. You need a safe word."

"Strawberries," I heard myself whisper immediately, a word that had always felt like a private, forbidden fantasy.

"Color?"

"Green."

The flogger came down, a succession of crisp, exhilarating sounds against my skin, each strike leaving a delicious sting that quickly became a building, electric pressure. I felt my body respond instinctively, a deep, pulsing warmth gathering in my most sensitive core, the heat blooming with every disciplined touch.

When he reached a silent count, the sting was replaced by the blissful, contrasting sensation of his rough hands and lips against the warmed skin. The gentle friction and the fire of his breath were as intoxicating as the touch of the leather. His coarse, ragged voice close to my ear was pure, unadulterated pleasure.

As his massage concluded, I felt the unmistakable, rigid presence of him pressed against my entrance. This man, my boss, was an animal of magnificent, barely-held power, and I was wholly his.

He shifted, entering me with a smooth, deliberate grace that belied the force of his desire. He bent close, his words a promise of complete possession. "My wolf wants to claim you, little one. But not tonight. Tonight... I'm going to take all of you."

He gripped my hips, the rhythm of his body becoming a consuming force. I was stretched, completely filled, not with pain, but with a magnificent, overwhelming sensation. As I instinctively tried to shift for more friction, a sharp, controlled touch to my hip brought me back to stillness.

"No wiggling, little one. Just stay and receive this."

Then, his hand found the back of my neck, and the rhythm accelerated, driving me into a frenzy of pleasure. The tension wound tighter and tighter, and I felt the release coming, a tremor starting deep inside. The world dissolved into a white-hot explosion of sensation.

He did not pause. The climax ripped through me, but he continued his driving, relentless pace, and I felt a new wave building, impossible, ferocious. I realized then that he intended to consume me, to empty me until there was nothing left but his will. The thought of tomorrow's work vanished entirely.

He broke away, uncuffing my wrists, and commanded me to rise. Full-force, he rejoined me as I knelt, his power a punishing, beautiful weight. My arms began to tremble with exhaustion, my legs aching, but the third wave of pleasure was already tearing through me.

Finally, with a few ultimate, consuming thrusts, he withdrew, his body shuddering with release. I collapsed onto the cool sheets, spent and breathless, utterly depleted. I was covered in sweat, my muscles spasming, my breathing ragged.

He gently released my ankles, then scooped me up, holding me against his damp skin. He carried me into the bathroom, kissing me with a shocking tenderness as he set me down for a fleeting moment.

He filled the tub to the perfect heat and proceeded to cleanse me completely, his touch now slow, gentle, and utterly devoted. Wrapped in a fresh towel, he carried me back to a bed that had been magically stripped and remade. He tucked me under the covers, removed the towel, and then, after tending to the room, slid into the bed beside me.

Without hesitation, I snuggled immediately against the powerful warmth of his body. The last thing I heard was his deep, soothing voice, a final command wrapped in tenderness: "Sleep good, little one."

I drifted off instantly, the surreal, intoxicating power of the day fading into the comforting, protective darkness.