11

IRIS’S POV

Darius’s hand was heavy on my thigh, his fingers curled into the fabric of my skirt. His eyes demanded a choice: duty or him. The scent of his dominance was choking me in the small vault.

"Beg," he repeated, his voice a low, rough command. "Beg for me to take the papers away. Beg to be just Iris."

My mind screamed. The Swiss accounts were clean, but the Asian transfers still needed to be finalized. If I stopped now, the delay could be fatal for my father's defense.

But the pressure of his body, the absolute power in his stare, was too much. The walls of the vault felt like they were shrinking, forcing me into a corner I couldn't fight my way out of.

"Alpha Wolfe," I started, trying to find a professional tone.

His grip tightened, squeezing my thigh until it hurt. "Wrong name. Use the one you scream when you cum."

My cheeks burned with humiliation and need. I hated this control, but my body was already betraying me, heating up, pooling moisture deep between my legs.

"Darius," I whispered, the name rough on my tongue.

"Again. What do you want, slut?"

The word was like a key, unlocking the dark, reckless side I only showed to him.

"I want you to stop," I choked out, but the lie was obvious. "I want you to take the papers. I want you to make me forget the numbers."

He smiled, a slow, dark, victorious smile that stripped me bare. "Good girl. You choose the secret over the duty."

He let go of my thigh and grabbed the metal table, shoving it violently to the side. The files scattered across the cold concrete floor, a mess of secrets and numbers. The laptop clattered loudly.

"The work is done," he declared, his eyes blazing gold now. "Now we focus on the real reason your father locked us down here."

He reached out and hauled me out of the chair, pulling me flush against his hard body. My silk blouse was no protection against the heat and tension radiating from him.

His mouth slammed onto mine. This was not the teasing kiss from the hallway; this was demanding, brutal, erasing. He kissed me like he was trying to swallow my soul, his tongue plunging deep, asserting ownership over every breath I took.

I kissed him back instantly, fiercely, my hands clutching the front of his shirt. All the fear, the pressure, the anxiety of the last week boiled over into pure, desperate lust.

"Mine," he growled against my lips. He ripped his mouth away and started tearing at the front of my silk blouse. The sound of the buttons snapping was loud in the vault.

He didn't care about the clothes, only about access. He pushed the torn fabric aside and buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.

"You smell like the vault," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "Cold stone and my scent."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperate to feel him, desperate to be taken. "Please. Now."

He didn't need further instruction. He ripped his pants open, exposing his hardness, and hauled my skirt up roughly. He pulled my silk panties down, letting them fall uselessly around my ankles.

"No slow games, whore," he grunted, the words sharp and fast. "You're too hot to wait."

He positioned me against the nearest concrete wall and slammed into me in one deep, brutal stroke.

I screamed, the sound muffled by the thick concrete walls that were built to contain pack secrets. He filled me completely, stretching me to my absolute limit. It was painful, perfect, and exactly what I needed to silence the voices of doubt and duty.

He didn't give me time to recover. He started pounding into me with a relentless, punishing rhythm, his hips smacking against mine. The sounds of our coupling echoed off the hard walls, amplifying the shame and the ecstasy.

"Tell me this is better than your father's approval," he ordered, his hand gripping my hip hard, pinning me to the wall.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" I sobbed, unable to form a coherent thought.

He leaned down and bit my shoulder hard, a savage mark. "You belong here, locked away with me. Not planning a wedding. Not running numbers."

His pace was brutal, fast, tearing me apart and putting me back together. The sheer force of his thrusts made my head slam against the cold concrete.

My body was a battlefield, and he was winning.

Suddenly, his pace stuttered. His cock swelled at the base, and I felt the hard, thick pressure of his knot forming inside me. He was locking us together again.

I gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling myself stretch painfully around the new size. "Oh, God. Darius, the knot—"

"Take it," he commanded, his voice raw. He started grinding his hips slowly, pushing the knot deeper into my sensitive walls. "You wanted to forget, Iris. You will forget everything but this."

The knot pulsed inside me, claiming the deepest part of my core. I felt the pleasure sharpen into a single, blinding point.

He pulled back slightly, holding me pinned by the knot, and thrust forward hard, hitting a spot that made my eyes roll back. My muscles cramped, my body seizing around him.

I screamed his name, my climax tearing through me, long and violent.

He didn't wait. He started pumping into me with renewed fury, the knot stretching me wider with every single stroke.

"Cum for your Alpha, slut," he growled.

I climaxed again, my body seizing, the deep, powerful force of his presence overwhelming everything.

With one final, deep thrust, he roared and released, the hot, thick stream of his essence flooding me, locking the knot even tighter. He kept his hips pressed hard against mine, panting, the warmth of his cum filling me up.

The silence that followed was heavy and final. The only sound was our ragged breathing and the dripping of sweat off his face.

He stayed locked inside me until the knot slowly softened and shrank, releasing us. He pulled out, and I immediately slumped against the cold wall, my legs trembling violently.

"Get dressed," he said, his voice calmer now, the Alpha ruthlessness returning. "We finish the Asian transfer now. Two hours of sleep, then we face the day."

He was already pulling his own clothes back up, adjusting his suit as if he hadn't just used me against the wall of a nuclear bunker.

I grabbed the files scattered on the floor, my hands shaking. I forced myself to pull up my skirt and find my silk panties.

We worked for two more hours. The Asian transfer was successful. The firewall was clean. The pack was safe.

But I was not.

When we finally stood, ready to face the outside world, Darius walked to the heavy steel door.

"You look tired, Iris," he said, opening the lock with a loud, mechanical click. "Make sure you use Venus's perfume today. The scent of sex in the basement will be impossible to explain."

He walked out first. I followed, stumbling up the cold stone steps.

As I walked toward my room, passing the unsuspecting guards, I felt the heavy, thick stream of his cum leak down my inner thigh. The shame was suffocating, but the feeling of being completely possessed was stronger.

I was compromised. And I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that the close proximity had only just begun its work. Darius had secured the financial future of his alliance, and now he had secured his claim on me.