⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆✼♡✽⋆∘∙⊱⋅•
I stood there on the soft rug, my knees still a bit shaky from kneeling, staring up at Mr. Fairchild as if he'd just changed the fundamentals of physics. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—"this can't be real" and "please let this last forever"—but beneath all that, my omega instincts were practically shouting a triumphant hallelujah.
The man I'd spent years quietly longing for...stoic, untouchable, that terrifyingly capable Mr. Fairchild was right in front of me, asking for help learning how to let go. In bed. With me.
Honestly, I'd have to be pretty foolish to turn him down. Right now, with slick already soaking my underwear and my body buzzing like a live wire, being foolish felt like the best choice ever.
This was the fantasy I'd replayed in my mind during countless late nights at the office, the one I'd never dared to say out loud, even to myself. A million bucks couldn't pry me away from this moment.
