Divorced for Being Barren, I Came Back Pregnant by His Rival novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: The Conference Table

The conference room was forty feet of black glass table under a wall of window.

All of Chelsea burned on the other side of it.

Eliot sat on the edge with his trousers still around his knees and his shoes off.

August stood in front of him, flushed to the collar, with his shirt open halfway down his chest.

"Take it off," Eliot said. "All of it."

"Your orders, Dr. Standish?"

"It's mister. I never finished the doctorate."

"Then I'll call you whatever you like," August said, "if you let me see you."

Eliot pulled the sweater over his head and dropped it on the floor, and August's eyes went over him.

The pale chest, the narrow ribs, the stripe of dark hair down his belly.

"Now you," Eliot said.

August stripped without any hurry.

The shirt came off over broad shoulders crossed by old scars.

The belt went, and the trousers, and the underwear.

He stood bare under the lights with his arms loose at his sides, letting himself be looked at.

He was huge.

Not just tall, but thick everywhere, with a barrel chest and heavy thighs.

His cock stood hard and dark against his belly, long and thick, wet at the tip.

At the base the flesh was swollen into a heavy ridge.

"That's the knot," Eliot said, with his mouth dry.

"A little of it. It only goes all the way for an omega in heat." August stroked himself once, slowly, and his voice dropped. "Yours isn't here yet. I can wait."

"I didn't ask you to wait."

"No."

"Come here."

August came and stood between his knees.

Eliot wrapped a hand around him and felt the weight of it, the heat and the pulse, and August's belly clenched under his other palm.

"Eliot."

"Be quiet."

He leaned down and took the head into his mouth.

August swore, low and long, and a big hand came up and cupped the back of his skull, and did not push.

Eliot sucked him slowly, tasting salt and smoke, and the slick between his own legs soaked the glass beneath him.

He couldn't fit the whole thing.

He tried anyway, and his eyes watered, and August groaned his name.

"Stop, stop. If you keep that up I'm done."

Eliot pulled off with a wet sound.

"Then lie down."

"On the table?"

"On your back. Now."

August lay back on the black glass with his feet still on the floor.

His cock lay heavy on his stomach, and his chest rose and fell.

Eliot climbed up and knelt over his hips.

He had never been on top.

Grayson had liked the lights off and the covers up, and had finished in six minutes with his face turned away.

August looked up at him with a reverence that had no end to it.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said. "Tell me what to do."

"Hold still."

"Yes."

Eliot reached behind himself, took the cock in his hand and lined it up, and sank down onto the head.

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