Primal Instincts_ Volume 2(7)
Author: Nicole Edwards
“Drag your fingers back to your clit.”
I did, this time roughly working the little nub.
“I want you to come for me, hellcat. I want my name on your lips when you come.”
“Creed…” I pumped my hips, my fingers rubbing fervently over the little nub.
I could hear him breathing in my ear, which increased the tension in my womb.
“Oh, God… Creed…”
“Come for me, Journey. Let me hear you.”
His voice was the trigger. I went off like a shot; a violent ball of energy exploded in my center and blasted in all directions. The sensation lingered for only seconds, but it left me panting and breathless.
“Good girl,” he said smoothly.
His praise was as gratifying as the orgasm, sending a deluge of awareness crashing through my body.
“The plane’s about to take off, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“The what now?” I asked, shocked back into the moment. “Plane? There are … people around you?”
He chuckled softly. “Private jet, so there’s only Hawk.” His voice was gruffer when he said, “But you were on speaker, so he enjoyed it as much as you did. Be good, hellcat.”
The call disconnected.
I groaned, but I didn’t know if I was embarrassed or aroused by the thought of Hawk listening. It could go either way.
Then again, maybe I should feel guilty because I’d been trading texts with Hawk right before, and then he had to listen while I let Creed guide me to orgasm with his voice alone.
“No,” I decided, saying the word aloud.
I refused to feel guilty. Neither of them had asked for exclusivity, and since they seemed to share everything between them already, it was safe to say they already knew about my interactions with the other. If either of them wanted more, it was on them to tell me.
Until then, I was going to enjoy the hell out of … whatever this was.
4
Garrison Walker
I couldn’t deny that I pretty much did what Creed told me to do.
I didn’t usually question why he was asking because I trusted him. As my friend, as my boss, and as the Primal Dom, or Alpha as we referred to him. And no, I wasn’t a submissive who craved his attention. But I respected him more than I respected most people, and because we all needed someone to help out from time to time, I didn’t mind doing him a favor.
So when Creed told me to keep a close eye on Journey, I devised a game plan to make that happen. My first thought was to invite her to sit with the CBD team for a couple of days so she could get a glimpse of what they were working on. Since I tended to sit with whatever team I was directly assisting instead of in my seventh-floor office, it would’ve been the perfect setup.
With only one hitch. She wasn’t the one being assigned to the rollout of our CBD line. And since Hawk mentioned she was getting flack from her teammates, I figured that sort of gesture would likely step on a few toes. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a rift or incite anyone. I was merely trying to follow an order from my Alpha. If he said jump, I asked how high and where he wanted me to land.
Because that didn’t feel like the right way to handle things, I decided to do the opposite. And that was how I came to be camped out at the conference table on the sixth floor. I had my laptop in front of me, plus I had stopped for bagels and coffee, getting enough for Cheryl’s entire team. I purposely arrived before any of them so I would already be set up and not have to endure Cheryl’s preemptive strike to get me to go back to where I came from.
Don’t get me wrong; I liked Cheryl. She was smart and loyal and driven. She had worked her way up from the bottom, starting as a communication specialist answering phones more than a decade ago. Every manager she’d ever had sung her praises, proving their belief in her by promoting her all the way to the top. Now she reported to Nick directly, and while he’d never shown favoritism, he had mentioned she was worth every penny we paid her.
But the dedicated, family-oriented, motherly manager that everyone saw was only one facet of her personality. Cheryl Mann, also known as Mistress C, was a Dominatrix. Aside from me, Creed, Hawk, and Nick, she was one of two employees within the company who was a member of Primal. Duke being the other. And because we’d seen the primal side she didn’t show the world, Cheryl tended to overreact to our presence in the vanilla world. Hence the reason she called me Mr. Walker, and she apologized profusely when she thought one of her employees had overstepped. It was something we laughed about with her at the club, and she’d be the first to admit she’d grown fond of her vanilla cloak because it allowed her the opportunity to be two different people whenever she wanted.
“Mr. Walker.”
Speaking of Cheryl…
I saw her approaching, her steps hurried, her expression revealing her worry.
“Mistress C,” I greeted, keeping my voice low, although there was no one around to overhear.
Her countenance instantly shifted, and I got a brief glimpse of that fiery Domme who had her submissive husband wrapped around her little finger.
I grinned.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, glancing toward the offices her team occupied.
I opted for the truth. “I’ve been given a task from Creed. Keep an eye on Journey while he’s in New York.”
Her eyebrows arched upward, and I saw the barest hint of a smile. “I thought I detected interest.”
“More than a little,” I acknowledged.
“I take it he’s got the same concerns I do,” she said, her gaze swinging to Wayne Parson’s office.
“That, too.”
“You can assure him I’m keeping an eye on things.”
I had no doubt she was. As I said, the mild-mannered manager was merely a facade. Beneath that sweet, charming personality was the heart of a lioness, and if it ever came down to it, Cheryl would protect her cubs from any predator. I almost pitied Wayne if he ever triggered her primal need to protect.
She hitched her bag on her shoulder. “So what’s our reason for your presence? What should I tell my team?”
That was another thing I liked about Cheryl. Like me, she’d follow any direct or indirect order from Creed. Without question.