Chapter 21: The Real Terms

Xavier’s mouth curved. He picked the discarded contract up off the floor and dropped it beside my hip. “You’re still full of me, and you want to talk terms.”

“Especially now.” I leaned back. “I keep my clinic, my apartment, and my name—no public claims without my consent. You get scheduled access, and your degradation play. In exchange, I get protection and the dirt on my family and the Council.”

He listened without interrupting. When I finished, he gave a short, low laugh.

“You list demands like you already have leverage.”

“I just let you fuck me on your desk while you called me a ruined whore. I’d say the leverage is mutual.”

Xavier stepped closer, still half-hard, and braced both hands on the desk beside my hips. “Before we talk numbers, I want a demonstration.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“How good that mouth actually is.” His gaze dropped to my lips, openly skeptical. “You talk like someone who’s used to getting what she wants with it. I’m not convinced you’re that talented.”

I stared at him for a second, then laughed. Yes, I was genuinely offended. “Fuck off.”

His brows lifted.

“I’m great at sucking cock,” I sneered. “Ask anyone who’s had the privilege; they usually need a minute to remember their own name afterward. If anyone here should be worried about underestimating me, it’s you.”

Xavier’s eyes darkened with something that looked a lot like interest. “Is that so?”

“That’s so.”

He straightened, pulled his trousers up just enough to be decent, and walked around the desk to the black office phone. “I have a conference call in four minutes. Tokyo. Important enough that I can’t reschedule.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And?”

Xavier pressed a button. The phone dialed. He looked at me over the handset, expression calm, almost polite, and freed himself again with his other hand. He was still slick from being inside me, already thickening.

“Then prove it. Suck my cock while I take the call. Quietly. If you make a single sound they can hear, the deal gets worse for you. If you’re as good as you claim, you shouldn’t have a problem.”

The line clicked. A polite Japanese greeting came through the speaker.

Xavier answered in fluent, cool Japanese, voice completely steady, as if he weren’t standing there with his cock out and a half-naked, freshly fucked Omega on his desk who had just told him to fuck off.

I sat frozen for three full seconds, equal parts furious and dripping.

Ciel finally found her voice. Don’t you dare.

But the challenge in his eyes was too clear. He expected me to fold or get shy. I had already decided I was done being the girl who flinched.

I slid off the desk.

Bare feet on the floor, I knelt between his spread legs and took him in my hand—hot, heavy, and tasting of me. As I dragged my tongue from base to tip, his hand settled in my hair, resting there like a warning.

Xavier kept speaking into the phone, calm and professional, discussing numbers and timelines. Only the slight tension in his thighs told me he felt every slow stroke of my tongue.

I took him deeper.

He hit the back of my throat, and I held him there for a second, eyes watering. When I finally pulled back with a thick, wet sound, I went right back for more, already slicking him down. In the quiet study, the noise felt obscene, yet the men on the phone continued talking as if nothing were happening.

Xavier’s grip tightened in my hair as I sucked harder.

His voice remained steady, answering a question about shipping routes while I took long, deliberate pulls, tasting salt and the faint copper of the blood on his lip.

I glanced up through my lashes.

He was watching me, eyes half-lidded, the phone still pressed to his ear. When our gazes locked, he mouthed one silent word.

Deeper.

I gave it to him.

I pressed my nose against his stomach and held my breath until my lungs burned, tears slipping from my eyes. Spit ran down my chin and onto my breasts. When I finally pulled away, gasping, a glistening string of saliva connected my swollen lips to him.

Xavier’s voice stayed perfectly even as he wrapped up the call. Two more minutes of polite Japanese. A final agreement. Then the soft click of the line disconnecting.

Only then did he look down at me fully.

“Well,” he said, voice rough now that he no longer had to hide it. “You weren’t lying.”

I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, still on my knees, chin wet, and smiled up at him like a threat.

“My terms still stand.”

He reached down, hooked two fingers under my chin, and tilted my face up. His thumb smeared the mess across my lower lip.

“They stand,” he agreed. “With one addition.”

“What?”

“When I call, you come. When I tell you to get on your knees during a meeting, you do it. In private, you take whatever degradation I decide to give you that day. In return, you get everything you asked for.”

I held his stare. My throat still felt stretched. My body still ached from the desk. The bond was humming like a live wire, and I was so wet again it was almost embarrassing.

“And when I decide it’s over?” I asked.

Xavier’s thumb brushed the edge of my mouth one more time, slow and possessive.

“Then you try to leave. And we see which one of us breaks first.”

I rose to my feet, still naked from the waist down, chin still shiny, and held out my hand.

“Deal.”

Xavier looked at my hand for a long second, then at the contract still lying on the desk. He didn’t shake on it.

He pulled me in by the wrist, kissed me once, and spoke against my lips. “We’ll sign it after I fuck that smart mouth again.”

I didn’t argue.