The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

I blushed beet red, and Viggo stepped around me, hiding me from view as Ms. Dale tossed the keychain at him. The keys jingled as he caught them.

“Thanks, Ms. Dale,” he said. “We… appreciate it.” Her laughter carried down the halls, the empty rooms reverberating with her delight.

“Go up the second set of access stairs, turn left, second door on the left. Have fun, you two,” she drawled, her footsteps loud on the stairs. I waited until they faded, and then rested my forehead on Viggo’s back, groaning loudly.

“Could that have been any more awkward?” I asked, my voice muffled by the thick fabric of his uniform. He turned, and as I looked up at him, I could see that Ms. Dale’s interference didn’t bother him one bit.

“Quit stalling,” he grinned, his teeth flashing white as he held up the keychain in his hand. “Let’s go check out our room.”

His voice was dark, heavy, and I felt something drop in my stomach, and a familiar ache begin below. I let out a shuddering breath as he gave me a hungry look, and I realized that this was it.

This is happening.

“Viggo?”

“Bedroom. Now.”

And then he grabbed me, hoisting me up in the air and cradling me against his chest as I kicked and screamed and laughed the whole time. His fingers began to tickle my ribs lightly, and I squirmed in his arms as he carried me past the staircase to the conference room, and to a smaller, narrower set of stairs, taking them two at a time as he carried me effortlessly. He had to duck to avoid knocking his head on the ceiling, and then turned left down the hall, heading to the door.

He dropped the key on my belly and arched an eyebrow. “My hands are full, my love,” he said when I didn’t immediately understand what he wanted me to do. My hands trembled as I picked up the key, my breath coming a little short. I shifted in his arms, laughing loudly when he grunted and pretended to strain under my weight.

Then, before I could even get the key in the lock, he started tickling me again, and my squirming brought us both down to the ground, laughing hard. We laughed for what felt like eternity—him lying on the floor, me using him as a pillow—until it slowed, then finally stopped. I shifted my head on his thigh and looked up at him, where he was half-lounging on his elbows, staring back at me.

I bit my lip, inexplicably nervous in spite of everything. Viggo’s eyes shifted to my mouth, and his lips parted slightly, the hungry expression in his eyes gradually returning. I took a deep breath and then shifted up onto my hands, moving forward to press my lips to his, and he met me halfway.

My mouth immediately opened, and his tongue pressed in slowly, filling me with subtle tremors that raced down my spine, leaving me breathless, craving something more—and this time, I knew that more was coming. Viggo pressed me back, guiding me up while we slowly stood, his mouth never leaving mine. His kiss grew hungrier, wilder, as his arms came around my waist and pulled me forward against the whole tall, hard length of him.

I broke off the kiss, suddenly dizzy, and his mouth trailed down my neck, over my collarbone, his tongue tasting me. I gasped, the tremors increasing, a little surprised when Viggo pulled the key from my numb fingers, his mouth leaving my skin so he could look over my shoulder.

The key scraped off the lock, and he bit back a curse. I smiled, and then he made a victorious noise as the door creaked open. Then his mouth was back on mine, catching me unawares. He pressed the advantage, pushing me forward while I walked backward blindly, trusting him to keep me safe from harm.

I heard the door slam—he must’ve kicked it closed—and then his hands were on my waist, sliding up. I gasped as his thumb pressed into sensitive flesh underneath the thin fabric of my dress, my head lolling back as his mouth returned to my neck. I clung to him as his hand drew back down, then around. I heard and felt the zipper of my dress parting as Viggo slowly slid it down, and I quivered with anticipation as he began slipping the straps of the dress off my shoulders, his fingers skimming over my bare skin.

He broke off from me, moving around to stand behind me, pressing against my back. He pushed the dress down, off my shoulders and down my sides, leaving it encircling my legs in a pool on the floor, like a trap holding me in place.

But really it was him holding me in place. His breath touched the back of my neck, and I suddenly felt very much like the prey that the wolf wants to play with. Anticipation left me breathless and hopelessly weak as he pressed his lips against one of my earlobes, and even the softest touch was enough to make my eyes roll back into my head, my body wanting to fall backward, into him.

Like always, Viggo caught me, holding me up and using his shoulder for my pillow. His mouth moved again to my ear.

“Violet,” he breathed. I felt lost in the overwhelming sensations threatening to tear me apart. I was so vulnerable, and he held me like I was precious, like I was the only thing in the world worth living or dying for. My heart kept skipping beats, and I was powerless to control my breathing.

“Are you certain?” I could barely discern his whisper over the rising tide of my hunger for him, but it broke through, grounding me in the moment.

I turned, my body running on desperate need. “Yes,” I managed, my brain still reeling from everything, and I pulled his mouth down to mine. My hands fumbled in vain with the