The walk upstairs was silent, giving you plenty of time to ponder what Amber had said about the wives being kicked out of their rooms and forced to move back in with the community. You and Negan hadn't discussed specific details of what would happen with the wives, just acknowledged that neither of you wanted anyone except each other. However, the fact that he had gone ahead and made that move on his own was even more poignant, and showed once again just how serious he was about having you as his equal partner.
Reaching the office, he opened the door and let go of your hand so that you could precede him inside, these little moments of chivalry never failing to warm your chest. Crossing the room, you went into the adjourning bedroom, flicking on the tall floor lamp and depositing your sack of belongings onto the floor beside the bed. When Negan didn't follow, you returned to the office to find him pushing papers into folders, which he then stacked and tossed down into a desk drawer. You couldn't help but smile at the thought that he hadn't even waited to tidy up his paperwork before coming to collect you for the night.
Rounding the desk to stand beside him, you leaned a hip casually against the wood and said, "So...I'm gonna take a wild guess that you had a conversation with your wives."
Desk now cleared, he straightened and looked at you. "They're not my wives anymore."
Eyebrows raising, you replied, "Amber said that you're making them move out of their rooms."
Giving a sigh and running a hand down over his beard, he murmured under his breath, "Amber's a real pain in the fucking ass." Raising his voice to normal level, he continued, "I told all of them that I'd set them up with weekly fucking points so that they could live comfortably here, since that was part of the initial fucking deal and it wouldn't be fair to totally renege on it. Though I also made it clear they're welcome to get a fucking job and help out if they want. But I said that they would no longer be called my wives and that I'd no longer, uh..."
You almost laughed at the usually crass Negan hesitating, so helped him out. "Fuck them?"
He glanced at your face, as if to assess if you were upset or uncomfortable with discussing other women he'd slept with, but you honestly weren't. It wasn't as if the wives hadn't been a constant presence until now, even if he hadn't been fucking them.
"I let them know that if they had any issues with my decision, they were more than welcome to leave, because I wasn't going to put up with any fucking arguments about it."
"Did any of them seem to have any issues at the time?" you asked.
He gave a little shake of his head. "Sherry asked if that meant they could fuck whoever they wanted now, and I said it didn't matter to me; I'm not their fucking guardian. I let them know that they'd be moving down to the third floor with the rest of the community, though I was fucking nice enough to say I'd get them single rooms, if they wanted. They mostly just nodded and didn't say a word, though I should've known Amber would throw a fit as soon as I left."
His jaw clenched with frustration as he said, "I'm fucking sorry, doll. I should've had a Savior keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't do anything fucking stupid."
Moving closer, you reached out and placed your palm over the back of his hand where it was clenched into a fist against the desktop. "Hey, don't worry about it. If anything, it was probably good that Amber and I got that little talk out of the way immediately, because if it hadn't happened tonight then it would've been some other time."
Deciding that enough energy had been wasted on Amber, you moved the conversation away from her. "I'm glad you gave them the option of working, if they want. Hopefully some of them take that offer, since it'll make it easier for them to fit in with the rest of the community and make some connections outside of one another."
You also internally thought that it was smart of him to force them all to move downstairs, since it probably wouldn't be healthy in the long run to keep them isolated up on this floor like old trophies collecting dust. Moving them to another floor where they had to interact with others in some capacity would help them to move on, to form other friendships and potential relationships. Your mind flashed to Maria and wondered how she was handling all of this. Chances were she had sensed it coming, but you'd still want to check in with her and make sure she transitioned okay.
Speaking of transitions, you couldn't help but worry a bit with how the rest of the community would react to this major change. What if they saw Negan letting go of his wives as a negative thing? What if they thought he was indecisive and not a worthy leader if he couldn't uphold his image as a womanizer with a harem of wives at his beck and call...
The stress of your thoughts must've shown, because he unfurled his fist and turned over his hand under yours, so that they were palm to palm. "What's going on in that mile-a-minute brain of yours?" he asked with a playful nudge of his shoulder.
Your brain had indeed started sprinting in circles until the subconscious had to literally jump on its back and half choke it to death for it to slow down and chill out. Taking a deep breath and staring at your joined hands, you decided to give the 'being open and honest up front instead of freaking out over it for days first' option a try.
"I was just thinking...will all of these changes hurt your tough and all-powerful image? I don't want to be the reason for anyone seeing you as a less capable leader."
The sound of him scoffing made you look over, surprised to see his eyes twinkling with humor. "Nah, doll. If anything, I'd think having such a strong, badass woman willing to stand at my side would show more than anything how powerful I am."
If anyone had called you a badass a month ago, you'd have thought they were mocking or completely delusional. However, you'd learned over the past few weeks that perhaps you had more positive, strong qualities than you previously gave yourself credit for. Otherwise, how would you have attracted a man such as Negan, gained such an amazingly smart and loyal friend like Ben, and been able to successfully take charge of the entire kitchen staff.
Imposter syndrome was a real bitch sometimes, but you were glad to have recently pushed it off a cliff and been able to see your own potential, to now view yourself the way those around you apparently already did. And if Negan thought having you at his side wouldn't harm his image, would actually do the opposite...well, what better badass seal of approval did you need?
Releasing some of the physical tension from your limbs, your shoulders relaxed and body went more pliant as you pressed into Negan's side and twined your fingers through his. Looking up at him, your eyes dropped to half-mast and you allowed desire to shine out from your gaze.
"So I guess this means that I do deserve exclusive dick rights, after all."
You weren't sure if he caught the reference or not, as it was a nod back to the day weeks ago, when he had first stood in your room and condescendingly thrown the phrase like a dagger in response to you saying you refused to be just another notch on his bedpost. Ironically, it turned out that you were the only one who had even been anywhere near his bedpost, though you hadn't known it at the time.
He must've remembered after all, because his low, deep laugh rumbled through you like distant thunder. Turning so that you were chest to chest, he bent down to murmur against your lips, "It sure fucking does, doll. This dick is all yours."
Reaching down, you boldly cupped the growing harness between his thighs and replied, "Fucking right it is," before sealing your lips to his.
He gave a strangled growl and burst into action, and before you had even fully realized where this was going your shirt was pulled up over your head and he had turned and lifted you to sit on the edge of his desk. You watched as he flung off his own shirt, all that deliciously tanned and tattooed skin coming into view before he stepped up between your thighs and bent down to suck at the side of your neck.
Moaning, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and leaned back on your other hand as his lips traveled down over your throat and collarbone. Reaching behind you, he unclasped the bra so that his mouth could play with your nipples.
He praised you the entire time, describing what he loved about each inch of your body he kissed and caressed. His voice was rough and delicious like chocolate gravel, while his words dripped across your skin like filthy honey.
"Dear god," you whimpered, already desperate as his mouth trailed over your stomach, and he hadn't even taken your pants off yet. "Negan."
"What is it, doll?"
"Your voice...sometimes I think you could just talk me to orgasm." You couldn't even feel embarrassed at the confession. There was no way that he didn't know that his voice was pure sex, not with how he wielded it like a weapon of desire.
He lifted his mouth then, tucking that sinful tongue into his cheek while obscenely looking you up and down. "We might have to try that some other time, doll. Tonight, I plan to use more than fucking words on ya."
You whimpered when his head lowered and he licked across your ribs before nipping at the curve of your waist. "Then do it," you demanded, feeling the little puff of amusement he released against your goose pimpled flesh.
He upped the pace at that, quickly unbuttoning and tugging off your jeans and underwear. A growl left his throat, like a panther spotting its prey, at the sight of your bare pussy spread out on his desk. Sitting down in the chair, he scooted it in close so that he was at mouth level with your body, and you knew that never again could you see him sitting at his desk doing paperwork without thinking of this very moment.
Calloused fingers wrapped around your inner thighs and parted them obscenely wide before he dove in as if a man starved. He already knew your body just as well as, if not better than, you did yourself, so it took an almost embarrassingly short amount of time for him to have you shaking with a full-body orgasm. Your body arched against the wood as you cried out, fingernails scrabbling at the shiny surface for something to clutch onto. He kept going for a bit after that initial peak until you couldn't take it anymore, thighs closing reflexively around his face with the overstimulation, so that the feel of his beard was imprinted on your inner thighs before he finally pulled away.
When you were able to stop quivering and had enough strength to sit back up, you saw that his beard was slightly damp and he had an arrogant but well-deserved grin on his face.
"You might be a fantastic cook, doll, but I gotta say...that right there was the best god damn meal you've ever fucking served."
Rather than be embarrassed by the very Neganesque dirty joke, you instead wanted to give tit for tat, and wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. Pushing forward, you slid down off the desk to your knees between his spread thighs and reached for his belt before he even knew what hit him. Two could play this game, after all.
Once his pants were undone, you reached inside the snug boxer briefs and pulled out his thick cock, the head already red and weeping. If you had ever doubted how much Negan enjoyed eating you out, here was the proof that both he and his cock loved every second of it.
Wrapping fingers around the base, you leaned in and licked across the slit at the top, tasting the saltiness of his precum. The action caused him to release a stuttered breath, followed by a groan when you pushed his cock towards his stomach so that you could lean down and run your tongue along the underside from base to tip. You felt one of his hands thread through your hair and palm the back of your skull, gently guiding you to stop teasing and take him deep.
You acquiesced, opening your mouth around him and sucking his veined length as deep as you could without choking. The strangled moan he released made you glance up from under your lashes just in time to see Negan tip his head back in pleasure so that you only saw the jut of his chin and strong, tanned throat. The sight gave you a jolt of feminine power. Knowing that it was you making him come undone like that was a heady sensation, and you redoubled your efforts to make him lose control.
Moving wet lips up and down his throbbing dick, you lifted one hand to cup his balls. Playing with them, you rolled and teased until his voice came out stuttered and wrecked.
"F-fucking hell..." he broke off with another moan, and you could tell that he was already getting close. You were almost disappointed when his other hand reached down to grab your wrist before gently pulling you off his cock and to your feet in front of him.
"I wasn't done," you husked, before licking your lips in a way that made his eyes immediately drop to watch and his mouth fall open the tiniest bit.
His voice was raspy and urgent when he replied, "Next time you can suck me dry. This time, I want to feel your cunt around my dick when I come."
Shit, you loved when he talked filthy like that, and felt a fresh rush of dampness between your thighs. You hopped back up onto the desk while he stood from the chair and leaned down to open one of his desk drawers. You gave a light laugh when he pulled out a condom, and he grinned back.
"I've got these things hidden all over the fucking place now. Can never be too prepared when it comes to you, doll."
Quirking a brow, you almost asked where else he had hidden them, but decided it would be more fun to find out in time. Your thought process was jerked back to more important things anyways, as he rolled on the condom before pulling you to the edge of the desk and stepping between your legs. He ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, causing you to jerk and gasp each time it bumped your clit. When you whined his name pleadingly, he lined up at your entrance and pushed inside, causing you both to groan simultaneously.
You'd never get enough of this sensation, of the feel of him pushing in his cock as your pussy stretched and adjusted in welcome. It was as if your bodies had been made to perfectly fit together.
He leaned over you, one hand braced palm-down on the surface of the desk beside your head, while the other ran over your body. Fingers tweaked your hard nipples and trailed over your waist and hip, clutching at your ass while he thrust his hips the entire time in a rhythm designed to quickly drive you wild. You had one hand spread out over his pecs, feeling his sweat-slickened skin and the slight rasp of chest hair. With the other you reached up and wrapped fingers around the wrist beside your head, anchoring yourself when his thrusts picked up momentum so that you weren't pushed across the smooth surface.
He leaned down until his face was hovering over yours, making eye contact and holding it even as he continued his driving thrusts and caresses. He moved in until his lips were right over yours, until the puff of his exhales decorated your open, panting mouth. His voice, when it came, was low and husky with arousal, but it also sounded wrecked with affection.
"You've captured me, doll. Hook, line, and fucking sinker. I'm captured."
And then his mouth claimed yours, the same way his words claimed your heart. A few thrusts later and you were crying out into his mouth, your bodies synchronizing so that you orgasmed together.
In that moment, you both captured and claimed the other entirely, and it was the sweetest possession either one of you had ever known.