Ignition
593 Words
Myra's POV
I returned to the Thorn estate as the sun dipped low, nerves buzzing. After a quick shower and changing into a comfortable soft sweater and leggings that still flattered my curves, I ate a light dinner with Sophia. Lila was out somewhere, which gave me a small reprieve from her flirtatious energy.
At 9:30 PM, I grabbed my laptop and headed to the study. The door was ajar. David’s deep voice carried faintly as he finished a call.
I knocked softly.
“Come in.”
The study smelled overwhelmingly of cedar, smoke, aged whiskey, and raw Alpha power. David sat behind his massive oak desk, sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly attractive under the warm lamplight. Papers and tablets were spread out, along with large screens displaying pack census data and marketing charts.
“Myra,” he acknowledged, voice low and professional. His golden-flecked eyes flicked over me briefly before returning to his screen. “Sophia was right about your skills. We’re behind on updating the border territory demographics and refining the alliance marketing materials. Sarah’s maternity leave left a gap. Think you can handle sorting the raw census files tonight?”
“Yes, Mr. Thorn,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I took the seat across from him. My thighs pressed together under the desk. Being this close, alone with him in the quiet intimacy of his study, made my body react instantly. Slick already threatened to dampen my panties.
For the first hour, it stayed strictly professional. He explained the project: analyzing population shifts, identifying marketing angles for new pack alliances, cross-referencing loyalty metrics. I dove in, my academic strengths shining as I organized chaotic data into clean spreadsheets, suggested targeted campaign language, and flagged anomalies.
David watched me work, occasionally leaning over to point at something on my screen. Each time his arm brushed near mine or his scent enveloped me, my pulse spiked.
Gods, he’s so close. In my head, the scene shifted filthily. Papers shoved aside, him lifting me onto the desk, spreading my legs wide
I shifted in my seat, heat flooding my face. David didn’t seem to notice my internal struggle. He remained focused, commanding, occasionally praising my insights with a curt “Good work” that made my inner omega preen.
Around 11:15 PM, he stood to stretch, towering over the desk. The movement pulled his shirt tight across his broad chest. “You’re quick. Better than I expected. We’ll continue tomorrow night. Same time.”
I nodded, packing up slowly, reluctant to leave the charged atmosphere. “Thank you, Mr. Thorn. I enjoyed it.”
He paused, looking at me a fraction longer than usual. “David is fine when we’re working late like this.”
My breath caught. A small crack in the distance. “David,” I whispered, testing the name on my tongue. It felt sinful.
As I reached the door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting Sophia.
Unknown Number You looked so hot today. Bet you’re even hotter when you’re wet and begging. Sweet dreams.
My steps faltered in the hallway. Heart racing, I stared at the message, unease and irritation twisting in my gut. Who the hell—?
I deleted it quickly, but the words lingered as I climbed the stairs toward my room. The late-night session with David had left me aching and needy. Now this mysterious text added another layer of tension.
Little did I know, the slow burn was only just beginning to ignite.
- Writer
