Chapter 143

Chapter 143
Landon--

If Cora thinks I didn’t plan to get naked with her all along, she’s delusional. I drop my pants and rip my tank top in half, just for the effect. I was dressed up tactically because looking like a spy makes work with the security teams more fun, and basic black tank tops are cheap as fuck. Even if they were a thousand a pop it would’ve been worth it to watch Cora’s pupils expand and her jaw drop as I ripped it right down the middle. I feel like I’m in a commercial for that movie about the male strippers. I’ll have to buy these in bulk now. It’s like a fucking drug, seeing her gape at me like I’m some kind of underwear model brought to life just for her. 

“T-technically, underwear models are already alive.” Always a stickler for the facts, this mate of mine.

“Technically, you’re still being disobedient. Bad girl. I showed you mine,” I said, with a wave at my abs. “Now show me yours.” Cora finally– finally– pulls off her shirt and drops her pants, with none of the finesse or snark she showed just weeks ago. I’ve hit a switch inside her. It’s something about her previously undiscovered praise kink plus my playful arrogance, if her thoughts are anything to go by. Which, of course they are. I take advantage of the unusual silence to move this along. “I think you know what I want by now. Crawl, mate. Show me how sorry you are.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Cora pauses, already on her knees in front of me, but making no move to come my way. She shakes her head. “I’m not sorry. I deserve to move around on my own. I’m an adult.”

Shit. I was so close to fucking my way out of this, but I guess it looks like I whiffed it at the last second. “Okay. I wanted to fuck about it, but come here. Let’s talk about it.” I flop back into the recliner, my hard cock smacking into my stomach as I land. Shit, if it’s slow to get the message, that’ll sure get the idea across. 

Cora smirks at my flinch, but stands up to then sit across my lap anyway. “We can fuck about it after. We have to actually communicate first.” 

I let the back of my head fall into the headrest of the chair. “Fuck. You go first. And stop moving on my dick, I know you know what you’re doing.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, laughing at my groan when that puts her tits right in my face. I lay my head on them and close my eyes, trying not to think about it. “Well Landon, I find it insulting that you don’t think I deserve the freedom to go to meetings by myself. It made sense with the pain of the unfulfilled bond, but that’s over now.”

My head comes up so fast I almost give myself whiplash. “Did I ever say that? Did you ever even hear me think the words ‘Cora doesn’t deserve this’ or ‘Cora can’t handle going to a meeting on her own’? Does that sound like me or like your past, kitten?”

Her mouth flattens. Looks like I hit close to the mark. “Then explain it to me.”

“Haven’t you heard us talking? This is a security issue, babe. The FBI are after us– maybe you especially, since you’re connected to us but people won’t know you by sight like Emory. I could never stand to let them take you. Plus, there’s all the crazy people you stirred up. They might know your face, because they’ve been obsessing over all of us for six months now.” She cringes at the reminder. Two hits. 

Cora rallies for one more try, though. “I can take care of myself. If it’s a huge problem, send me with the driver guy. Emory said he makes pretty good security.”

I shake my head. “He does. And I’ll be texting him constantly, checking in to make sure you’re safe. How many texts, do you think, before his driving suffers? It would be safer for me to take you, even without his fancy driving courses.”

Strike three. “He could just ignore you.”

“His Beta?” 

Cora tilts back to look me in the face better. “I thought I was Beta, too?” 

I rub her back, trying not to feel like I ‘won’ this argument. This isn’t about winning. It’s about communication and compromise. It was wrong of me to try to win by brute force. And my sexy fucking body, even though it’s one of my best assets. “I was here first. I’m still higher on the hierarchy.” 

She rolls her eyes and lays her head on my chest, wiggling to get more comfortable. Clearly, she notices my hard on because she sighs and asks “consolation fuck?”

I have to laugh, but how could I say no? “Of course babe. But you’re wearing my handprints for all those very mean thoughts you were thinking about me.” I toss her to the bed, getting a giggly squeal. This is just as good as battle fucking, anyway.