WREN’S POV
I roll onto my back, maneuvering so I’m sprawled across Ronan’s foot, one of my legs stretched lazily over his lap. My toes brush against the bulge straining his sweatpants, a deliberate, teasing movement.
Ronan growls low in his throat, a sound more wolf than man and shoves my foot away carelessly, like swatting at an irritating pup. The dismissive gesture should sting but it doesn’t especially not when I see the way his c**k swells harder despite himself.
Instead of retreating, I shift to the couch, flopping down directly on his scattered papers. The crisp sheets crumple beneath me and I arch my back making a show of wrinkling them even more. I don’t care if this is the alliance he has been working on.
Ronan doesn’t even flinch. He just places a broad, heavy hand on m
