Page 9 of Bourbon Wishes (Wine Country Alphas #3)

"Yep." It's not something I'm ashamed of, but it's not something I spend a lot of time talking about, either.

I've lived here my entire life. Everyone knows my family.

They know the kind of money we make. Most of the women who showed interest in me were more drawn to the vineyard and financial stability than to me.

And no one wants to be an item on someone's bucket list or their meal ticket.

So I spent my time focused on the vineyard instead.

Constance is different, though. She doesn't give a fuck about money or influence.

She's as likely to tell me to stick it up my ass as she is to let me spoil her.

She isn't here because she wants something from me.

She just wants me. And that? That's intriguing as hell.

I know I'm a pain in the ass. I know she could have any man she wants.

I'm not the catch here. She is. But she's still here with me right now, squirming all over my cock.

Frankly, I'm fifty feet tall and bulletproof right now.

"You should have told me," she whispers.

I grunt in response, lifting her off my cock and then dropping her again. "I just did. Now, shut up and come on my cock like a good little employee."

Her eyes flash dark, her hand tightening around my tie. "Be a good boss and make me."

Challenge fucking accepted.

I rise to my feet, laying her back out on the island again. Her thighs hitch around my waist as I lean over her, yanking her ass to the edge. She gasps and moans as I tug the top of her dress down so her perfect breasts spill out, her nipples high and tight.

My lips close around one as I pump into her, fucking her like my life depends on it. At this point, I'm pretty sure it does. If she's not coming on me in the next two minutes, I'm going to die.

She moans, the sweet sound of my name echoing around the kitchen as I pound into her.

I try like hell to go slow, but there is no such thing when she's beneath me, rocking her hips and babbling my name.

I fuck her like a beast, slamming into her so hard she inches across the island with every thrust.

"More," she gasps.

I rake my teeth across her nipple, biting down. One hand slips between our bodies, playing with her clit while I fuck her, my balls slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust.

"Christ, I want to imprint my dick in this pretty little thing, Constance," I groan against her skin.

"You'll never want anyone but me by the time I'm finished.

I'll be your fuck toy from now on. Whenever you need to get off, you'll climb up on my lap and use my cock like it's your own personal vibrator. "

She chokes on my name…and then chokes again when I wrap my hand around her throat, pinning her in place. I don't squeeze, merely hold her there, my eyes locked on hers.

"Fucking come before I flip you over and turn your ass red," I growl.

Her pussy clamps around my cock, and I realize just how much she loves being told what to do like this. She loves it filthy. Constance Maverick is a dirty, dirty girl. And she's all fucking mine.

I fuck into her again and again, ruthlessly driving her to the edge with my thumb on her clit and my hand around her throat. I don't give her the chance to fight it or resist. I make her submit, forcing her to give me what I want…precisely the way she wants.

She shatters with a silent scream, her mouth open wide, her cheeks flushed red, and her cunt squeezing my cock so fucking hard it's painful perfection.

I roar her name, slamming into her again and then again as she sends me careening over the edge with her. Seed shoots up my shaft, spilling into her in heavy pulses. There's so much of it that it dribbles out, dripping down her thighs.

I scoop it up with my fingers, rubbing it into her pussy, coating her in it.

She watches me with wide eyes, moaning, quivering. The perfect little lamb.

She only grows more perfect when she puts her arms around me, pulling me down to her with a sweet sigh. I wrap myself around her, cradling her in my arms with my heart pounding and her name on my lips, reeling with the realization that I may have her body…but I don't have her heart.

Yet.

I wake up before dawn to Constance having an existential crisis beside me. She's muttering to herself as she tries to ease out of my bed, as if she's thinking of slipping away into the night.

I wrap my arm around her waist, hauling her across the plush surface to me.

"Bastian!" she gasps, flipping around so fast she knees me in the thigh.

"Jesus Christ," I grunt, hauling her halfway underneath me to keep her still. "Settle down, Constance."

"Stop manhandling me." She jabs me in the ribs with one perfectly manicured nail. "And let me up. I have to go. I have to write my resignation before work."

"What the fuck?" I peel both eyes open, fully awake now. "You aren't fucking quitting."

"Yes, I am!" she shouts, panic in her gaze.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, counting to three.

It doesn't make me feel any calmer. But I don't immediately reach for something to tie her to my bed so she can't escape, so I guess that's progress.

Instead, I brush her wild hair out of her face, studying her.

"Tell me what's going on," I murmur, trying like hell not to start throwing out unhelpful shit like if you say you're quitting again, I'll spank your pussy, or don't make me fuck some sense into you.

Call me crazy, but I don't think either of those will help right now.

"You're my boss," she says as if she's talking to a five-year-old. "And we just slept together."

"Multiple times." I'm not real sure why I feel a need to remind her of this fact when she was most definitely there and a willing—and very involved—participant all three times, but she makes a sound that's part panicked whimper, part unhinged growl, that makes me smile.

There's something downright charming about her all bent out of shape and spiraling over the fact that she woke up in my bed, covered in my marks.

She's usually so calm and collected, always pushing my buttons and then walking away with a smile on her face when I'm ready to snap.

It's nice to see the shoe on the other foot for once.

"Multiple times," she snaps. "We can't keep working together!"

Yeah, she's lost her goddamn mind if she thinks I'm letting her quit now. That will not be happening, not in this life or any other.

I roll her beneath me, nudging her legs apart to slide between them. My cock is already hard. Not surprising. The bastard never goes down when she's around, and she's naked in my bed. He hasn't taken a beat all night.

"What are you doing?"

The suspicion in her voice damn near makes me laugh.

I fight it, sliding my hand up her thigh as I nuzzle my face against her throat.

"You aren't fucking quitting, Constance," I growl against the shell of her ear, rocking my hips so my cock slides through her folds.

"You're going to keep working for me, and we're going to keep doing this. "

"Bastian." She's trying to protest, but all I hear is the way she moans instead.

I slip the head of my cock inside her—just the tip. "You aren't fucking quitting. Tell me." My teeth sink into her shoulder. "Right now."

"Bastian, please. We need to t-talk about… Oh god." She melts beneath me, her legs cinching around my waist as I sink in another inch. "We need to talk about this."

"No, we don't. You work for me." I nip her shoulder again, tipping my hips forward to slide all the way home. Good Christ, she's so damn hot around me. "You're going to keep working for me. I'm going to keep fucking you. End of discussion."

"You can't bully me into keeping my job!"

"I'm not." I crane her head back with my hands in her hair, brushing my lips against hers. "I'm just reminding you why you want to keep doing this while working for me."

Is it a dick move? Probably. Do I care? No.

She isn't quitting. She isn't leaving me.

Not now that she's finally where I've been dying to get her.

I don't care about the fucking rules. Those went out the window about the time she started talking about what gets me off.

Hell, I'm not sure they ever mattered at all.

They were a smokescreen, something I told myself should matter even while looking for every excuse to break them.

Now, they're broken—shattered and scattered on the floor like the remnants of our clothing. We aren't going back and pretending they matter now. Hell no.

If I have to keep her on my cock every hour until she's too blissed out to argue about it, well, I'm just asshole enough to do it.

Whatever it takes to convince her that she's staying right here.

Until I figure out a way to make her fall for me, sex is the only tool I've got in my arsenal.

So yeah, I'll use it. Over and over again, if that's what it takes.

I rock my hips, fucking into her slowly. She grumbles a protest even as she arches her hips to meet me, trying to stay strong, but unable to muster the conviction to make her protest believable. She wants this—wants me. She's just trying to convince herself that she shouldn't.

When I slip my hand between her thighs, playing with her clit while fucking her, she cracks. A soft whimper of surrender tumbles from her lips, her nails digging into my shoulder blades.

Neither of us says anything else as I pump into her, fucking her nice and slow this time.

She's hot heat and sweet surrender around me, driving me out of my mind with every panted breath.

And I'm all wild desperation and frantic need above her, dragging her to the edge with every slow, measured thrust.

We fall together, gasping and moaning.

She trembles in my arms afterward, soft whimpers pelting the side of my face.

"You aren't quitting," I growl softly, my lips against the side of her throat.

"Okay," she whispers, surrendering one more time.

I feel the triumph echoing in my soul.