Chapter 3: Morning Briefing
972 Words
The next morning I arrived at Sterling Tower at 7:45 AM, body still aching from Alexander’s touch the night before. Sleep had been impossible. Every time I closed my eyes I felt his fingers on my thigh, his hardness pressed against me, the growl that promised complete ruin. I was nineteen, untouched, and already terrified by how my body betrayed me for my stepfather.
The elevator doors opened on the 68th floor and the atmosphere shifted instantly. Heads turned. The men’s eyes crawled over my fitted white blouse and pencil skirt with open hunger. Marcus, the slick-haired junior executive, leaned back in his chair and adjusted himself blatantly while staring at my legs. Another analyst whispered something crude, both laughing low. Their stares felt rapey, invasive, stripping me bare in the open-plan office.
But none approached. The mandatory meeting the day before had made it clear: Elara Vale was off-limits. Alexander Sterling’s personal intern. His untouched prize. Touch her and suffer consequences. The warning kept them leashed.
The women glared with pure jealousy. The blonde receptionist tapped her nails aggressively, eyes narrowed. Two senior assistants whispered, faces twisted with envy. “She thinks she’s special.” “Already spreading her legs for him.” Their hatred burned hotter than the men’s lust.
I kept my head down and hurried to my desk outside his corner suite. My clothes felt too tight, every movement reminding me of last night.
“Miss Vale.” Alexander’s voice sliced through the air. He stood at the glass door, suit jacket on, looking every inch the ruthless Alpha billionaire. Silver eyes locked on me. “My office. Briefing. Now.”
I grabbed my tablet and followed. The door shut and locked. We were alone.
“Sit.” He pointed to the chair in front of his massive oak desk. I obeyed, thighs pressed together, heart hammering. He remained standing, reviewing papers slowly. His scent — dark cedar, whiskey, raw dominance — filled the room and made my latent wolf stir in terrified submission.
“You didn’t sleep,” he stated, not looking up. “I smell the exhaustion. And the arousal.”
Heat flooded my face. “Mr. Sterling, this is inappropriate. You’re married to my mother.”
He met my eyes. Silver darkened to molten. “You are my true fated Luna. The bond ignores your mother, human rules, and my sham marriage. It demands I claim what belongs to me.”
I shifted, terrified by the slick heat building between my legs. “The office is watching. The men look at me like—”
“Like they want to defile you,” he growled, slamming a file down. “I saw every filthy thought yesterday. That’s why the meeting happened. No lesser male touches my prize. You remain untouched until I decide otherwise.”
His possessiveness sent a forbidden thrill through me. I hated it.
Alexander rounded the desk and stopped behind my chair. His heat radiated against my back. “Today you take notes on the merger projections. You do not leave until I say.”
He leaned over me, chest brushing my shoulder as he reached for a folder. I gasped. His scent overwhelmed me. Hands trembled on the tablet.
“Focus, Elara,” he murmured against my ear, lips grazing skin. “Or I punish you here.”
The briefing became torture. He dictated figures while pacing. Every pass brought him closer. At one point he stopped in front of me, hips at eye level, the thick bulge in his trousers impossible to ignore. I looked away fast.
“Eyes up,” he commanded.
I obeyed. “Good girl.”
By ten o’clock the tension was unbearable. A knock came — a jealous assistant with coffee. Alexander ordered her to leave it outside. No one entered.
During the video call with the board he pulled me onto his lap under the desk.
I froze in terror. “Mr. Sterling—”
“Quiet.” His arm locked around my waist, holding me against his hardness. The camera showed only him. I straddled his thick thigh, skirt bunched, trembling. His free hand rested on my inner thigh, fingers stroking higher.
Board members discussed numbers. Alexander answered with perfect control. Beneath the desk his fingers teased the edge of my panties. I bit my lip hard, fighting whimpers. Fear and shameful pleasure warred inside me.
“You’re soaked for your stepfather, little Luna,” he whispered, circling my most sensitive spot slowly. “My terrified virgin.”
I shook on the edge when the call ended.
He spun the chair and pinned me on the desk, back on cool wood, legs spread around his hips. Papers scattered. His mouth hovered over mine, fangs visible. “I want to knot you right here. Fill this tight cunt and mark you as mine in front of the entire tower.”
Terror consumed me. This was too wrong. My mother’s husband. The Alpha who owned everything.
My hips bucked against him anyway.
A sharp knock on the glass — Marcus with urgent documents, trying to peer inside.
Alexander snarled and pulled back. “Get under the desk. Now.”
I scrambled down, hiding as he opened the door. Marcus’s voice held barely hidden lust asking about me. Alexander’s reply was ice. “She is none of your concern. Remember the meeting.”
The door closed. Alexander dragged me out, eyes wild.
“Tonight. My private suite after close. You will come or I carry you.”
He released me. I fled to my desk on shaky legs, thighs slick, mind reeling.
The office watched. Men hungry. Women hateful. None dared touch.
But the real danger waited after hours.
And the part of me awakening as his Luna was already terrified of how much I craved it.
- Writer
