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S itting up in the chair, I trace my lips with my finger as I assess her. She’s standing tall, but I catch the shake in her hands. I like that I put that tremble in her.

She can hold her own when it comes to the operation side of the house. I put her through my own paces to make sure she’s on my level. Don’t need an amateur on any mission. Everything can lead to death, and despite my joy at sending a few to meet the Grim Reaper before their time is up, I’m not one of them willing to surrender. She knows her shit. Can even handle herself against me. I never went easy on her. Don’t believe in ever doing that. You train for reality, and no one goes easy when it’s real. If you can take a hit in practice, you can take one out in the real world and still get up from it.

It’s the connection, the intimacy that I know she’s still a noob at. At first I thought it was just me, but maybe it’s more than that.

I tilt my head as a new thought comes into my brain.

“How many men have you slept with?”

“What does that matter?”

“A submissive isn’t defined by her sex partners, but it gauges my understanding of your comfort level. Like you said before, we have a life on the line and can’t start from scratch. If this was a genuine relationship, we would learn things as we go. We don’t have time for that. As it stands, we have less than seventeen hours before we make our next appearance. We need to show them we belong together and know what we’re doing, or we might as well just announce who we are and why we’re there when we show up.”

I watch her shirt rise and fall with her deep breath. I let my eyes travel over her, knowing she can see me looking. It’s good for her to get used to my attention. I don’t fall into one set of titles in my role as a Dom, but one thing I like to do is keep eyes on my submissive the entire time. I’ll be doing it anyway because of the mission, but also to appease a part of my soul that demands she have all my attention. She might not see it, but she’ll feel it. Like an itch at the shoulder blade. Submissives I’ve played on and off with in the past have described feeling a chill sneaking up along their neck.

“Seven. Only one was serious.”

“Any of the other six repeat-performance types?” She shakes her head, and I spread my legs farther apart to give my growing dick more room. “Let’s start slow. Take off your clothes.”

“That’s slow?” Her abrupt response has me smiling. There’s that sass I wanted more when she was Wendi and I thought a part of her was missing.

“Keep the bra and undies on, but the rest needs to be gone. I need to make sure you won’t flinch if I touch you.”

“I won’t,” she states in protest as she tosses her shirt behind her and kicks off the shoes.

“Of course you won’t.” I reach out quick and tickle her side. She falters as she was kicking off her second shoe, and I steady her with my other hand, grabbing her waist. I look at her with a raised eyebrow, proving my point.

“You cheated.” With an act of defiance, she crosses her arms and pouts. Fucking pouts. It’s all I can do not to bite that pushed-out lower lip.

“You should know by now that life ain’t fair. I also never claimed to be a gentleman.”

She rolls those beautiful eyes at me as she unbuttons and then shimmies her jeans off. “No, you’re a biker.”

If she meant it as a jab, she missed her target. Hell yeah, I’m a biker. Proudest part of who I am.

“Hop on.”

This time when I pat my leg, she doesn’t hesitate. It’s a tight squeeze, but that’s the point. I need all of her to touch all of me. This isn’t only a test for her but for me too. I need to make sure no one sees me falter. It’s been a while since I let my Dom side out. It was never gone, just dormant for a bit. Not that I forgot how to be one. It’s my body’s response to it that I question.

I draw a breath and refuse to expel it, succumbing to my desire. I hold it in and count to thirty before letting it seep out my nose in a controlled manner. Having the vamps back home hop on anyone willing helps some, but this isn’t a vamp sitting on me. It’s Billy. Everything that first drew me to her is right here, front and center.

Her legs fold over mine, and her hands grip my shoulders. I’m not holding on, not giving her a chance to relax her hold till she does. She needs to trust that she won’t fall. That I won’t let her fall. The tension leaves her body as she settles more on me.

“Good pet.” I reach up and rub my knuckles along her cheek. It’s a small sign of praise, and like I expected, she leans into my touch as if desperate for the connection.

“Why do you call me pet?”

I continue to guide my hand down her cheek, then stroke her neck and shoulders. “It’s a common term of endearment. Would you prefer me to call you darling instead?”

I enjoy watching her eyes grow as she finally gets it. “You call me that because of how we met.”

“Seems fitting to use a term that puts you in the mindset of pretend. You might be a real veterinarian and care for the pets that come in, but that was only part of it. Just like you might have submissive tendencies, you aren’t here for that alone. But if you don’t like that, and I don’t see you as a Wendi Darling—no Lost Boys and all that”—she smiles as I do—“perhaps I can call you something from that movie. Maybe ‘little red’ for the coat or ‘witch’?” I pinch her nipple hard, not caring that her bra is covering her. I can make them out as if she wore nothing at all.

Her back arches, and instead of pulling away, she leans into the pain. Interesting. I release her and move my hand back up to her neck, rubbing and soothing the skin like I was doing before. Forcing her body to accept the unexpected. To react out of pleasure and not in shock should I do that in front of others.

“So you do know the movie.”

Shaking my head, I pull my hand away from her and rest it on the arm of the chair. “No, but I have a phone and can look things up. Should have figured it out. I only knew of the Casper movie because it was the reason my sergeant started calling me that, after his kids watched it on repeat. Claimed I was silent like a ghost but had more of a personality.”

“A friendly ghost.” Her lashes flutter as she looks through them with a soft smile. Shy about calling me friendly or teasing me while sitting on my lap, I’ll never know.

“Why do they call you Billy?”

She stiffens. “Because it’s my name.”

I hum at that. We both know she’s lying. I guess we aren’t ready for that part of our past to come out. Yet.

“When we go back, the same rules apply like they did before. Do you remember them?” She nods. “Repeat them.”

Taking a deep breath, she relaxes into me again, obviously content to know I won’t push her on her name. “Don’t speak unless you ask me to. Even then, speak to you and you alone. Keep my eyes level or lower, not above.”

“Do you know why the last part?” I push her hair behind her ear as she nods.

“So I can keep eyes on everything without it looking like I’m taking in an entire scene. That could make others think I’m being rude or that I’m new to BDSM.”

“Correct, pet. Exactly right. And I’ll remind you several times while we’re there so the others around us hear and know it’s allowed. I’m sure we’ll run into a few Doms who’ll demand your eyes downcast, but just remember, I make the rules when it comes to you. No one else gets to direct you, just me. I’m not saying this randomly, but as a warning that you’ll be tested. That’s what Doms do. They aren’t looking to punish a sub who isn’t theirs who does something wrong but rather to see if the Dom she’s with has trained her well. We have to present a united front. We got lucky last time. The only one pushing the boundaries was just that one guy. But we’ll be staying there, and we’ll have to be separate at times. Just remember the rules and you’ll be fine.”

“You… you ever go undercover like this?”

There she goes, biting that lip again. I tug on it till it pops out of her mouth, soothing the teeth marks with the pad of my thumb.

“Undercover? Many times. In this environment, no. But the premise is the same. Everyone’s mission has a set of guidelines to follow to keep your identity secret. Just keep that in mind and you’ll be fine. You never broke character when you were Wendi before, so this should be a piece of cake.”

But it won’t be. Pheromones of sex will surround us. It’s already been trying sleeping in the same bed and being together so much. The next few days will test my control like nothing ever before. Both physically and mentally. I like her. More and more every day. I don’t like how it all went down at the start, but I get it. Hell, I’m even impressed by how deep undercover they went. I can say that now that I’m seeing her as a possible tactical asset and not the enemy.

I was given the time I didn’t have before. Being here, focusing on one mission, has helped me breathe a bit since I became president. The pressure is still there to not let anyone down, but it seems less in a way. More manageable. Not sure if it’s because I’m away from it or because I’m focused elsewhere, and all the problems I saw before are now somewhat trivial and I can delegate them out. Maybe they were always that simple, but at the time, I wanted to do it all. Wanted to know it all. I wasn’t given the typical ease into office the club aims for when someone takes over an officer’s position. The previous guy usually mentors the new one those first few months, even up to a year if need. I didn’t get that. I have to rely on what I know, what I feel is right, and trust that the boys will let me know if some shit looks off.

“Put your hands behind your back. Clasp them together and don’t move them.” She does as she’s told, and I watch her body react to the lower tone in my voice when I talk. “We’re going to test your ability to listen, even while distracted.” She nods, but I focus on her throat as she swallows. The movement is hypnotic to watch, just like the rest of her.

There’s a flush on her skin. Her arms are covered in goose bumps despite the room’s temperature. Bane keeps the clubhouse warmer than most. Guy was stationed in Antarctica once and says he can never get the chill out of his bones since then.

“Close your eyes and don’t speak. You can make noise, but not a word should cross your lips.”

She does nothing for a second, and then she complies, her lashes fluttering closed. Her breath comes in a slow, steady rhythm, something I aim to change immediately.

Grabbing her hair in my fist, I wrap it around before pulling her head back as I bite on her neck, hard. She shudders but doesn’t release her arms or open her eyes. I run my other hand up her arm and then down, pulling her bra strap as I go till her left boob is uncovered. I continue to bite along her neckline, leaving my mark, moving her head to give me better access. I go over it twice, kissing and licking on the second go-around. If I could purr in satisfaction, I would. I’m not a damn cat, though, but a Hound, so I growl in approval instead.

Leaning back in the chair, I watch her, waiting for her to slip up, as my fingers caress the underside of her tit. It’s so soft. With a single digit, I make a trip around the sun that seems to pull me in as I circle her entire breast, then closer to her nipple.

Tugging her hair harder, I pull her head back, using my other arm as a brace for her to lean on as I dip her almost down to the floor, offering her breast up to the beast inside me that demands I taste her here.

Unlike with her neck, I use my tongue to stay in the same circle pattern that my finger just left. She was expecting my bite from the way she tensed in preparation, and I feel my dick swell even more, knowing I can give her the unknown. I’ve been hard as a rock since she sat down on me, but I can still grow harder for the woman, it seems.

She cries out as I leisurely suck as much as I can fit of her in my mouth. My tongue flicks across her nipple continuously as I go. More than half of her tit is in my mouth before I let it go with a pop. She shudders as her cold, wet skin hits the air a second before I kiss away the chill.

Her cry of alarm is her only reaction when I strike fast and hard, biting down enough to leave a bruise. But like a good pet, she doesn’t let go. Her eyes don’t crack open a single millimeter. She shakes as she holds herself together to not break the rules as I clamp down harder, goading a whimper from her lips.

Releasing her, I pull her back up and ease my hand out of her hair. I massage her scalp, then her neck as my other hand goes down to soothe her aching nipple with soft caresses.

“Open your eyes, pet.” They flutter open, glossy from unshed tears, and I’m sick enough to enjoy the look on her. “You did good, pet. Real good. You deserve a reward.”

I sink lower in my chair, which she adjusts to by moving her legs wider till her pussy is right over my cock.

“Put your arms on the back of the chair.” She does it without hesitation, and I would smile if her action didn’t leave me breathless myself.

The angle has her pushing right on my cock, and her tits, one free and one still contained, brush against my chest. Her hair falls forward, putting us in our own little tunnel. Nothing else is around us at this moment. There’s no outside noise, no worries, no lives on the line. It’s just the here and now.

“Get yourself off, pet. Use me to get your reward.”

She licks her lips but does nothing else, still keeping to the rule of not talking. Grabbing her hips with both hands, I move her back and forth over my dick. I don’t deny the groan of bliss that filters out of my mouth and matches hers. She adjusts, holding the back of the chair hard, but uses a thumb to rub my scalp as she takes over the hip motion.

I keep my hands on her, refusing to move them. If I do, I might take more than what this is. This is not only her reward but research for me to see what sets her off. I need to take in every intake of breath. Every shudder her body gives as her nipples tease my shirt and her pussy flutters around my jeans-clad cock. I swear I can feel it. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but breaking eye contact and looking down, I’m rewarded with seeing her panties so wet that I can make out every detail of her pussy. Even her clit, which seems to poke out every now and again as she rocks forward and separates those beautiful lips of her that usually conceal that hidden treasure.

My fingers hold her tight. Not in restriction, but I know I’m leaving bruises. More marks on her skin that’ll be seen by everyone tomorrow night. I tell myself that this is just part of the mission, that it’s nothing more than adding jewelry to a costume.

I was never good at lying to myself. I know it’s more about me wanting to have her marked by me. The primal part of me enjoys each one I make on her, the way the blood rushes to the surface to form the bruise. Even better that she’s welcoming it, as if she’s just as lost as I am in the moment to not care about what it means outside of what’s going on.

When she crashes over, it’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. Her breath catching as she shudders in my arms, her mouth open wide, has me urging to get her off again. This time with her mouth on me while she comes. I want to feel that constriction around my cock.

Her eyes keep contact with mine, and I watch as a single tear falls. I lean in and lick it away before I pull her close and hold her as she comes down, kissing her temple as I rub her back till her breath evens out. And then I continue to hold her.

We both know after this, things will change.

Good or bad, I’m not ready to let go of her.

I might never be.