Chapter Fifteen
Madi
Brick Blackthroat wants to have a relationship with me. That almost shocks me more than the fact that he”s a wolf. I’m still quickly assimilating both as Brick drives me to his place.
When we left the stairwell, hand-in-hand, the Adalwulf contingent had already vacated the building, and it was just Blackthroat’s team left in the conference room, discussing the situation in heated voices.
The way they all stopped talking when we came in tells me I was a large part of that discussion.
“What now?” Vance asked in a tight voice, his gaze flicking from me to Blackthroat.
“Go home. I’ll clean up my own mess.”
None of them seemed to like that, but other than disgruntled stares, no one protested.
“Am I your mess?” I ask as we drive. “When you said you’d clean up your own mess, did that mean me?”
He slides a sidelong glance at me from behind the wheel. “Humans aren’t supposed to know about our kind. Obviously.”
“Yes, obviously.” I’d already assumed that much. “As you said, I signed an NDA. I won’t breathe a word. Not even to Aubrey.”
He sends me another unfathomable glance. “Thank you.”
I fidget for another moment. I have to ask. “Are you taking me home because I’m part of the mess?”
“No, Windows.” He gives a humorless laugh. “I would have your memory wiped if I didn’t trust you–without hesitation. Even though it could damage that big, beautiful brain of yours. We take our privacy and pack safety very seriously.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I don’t want to know the answer, but I have to ask. “H-how?”
“I’d make a deal with Thaddeus, the vampire king. Vampires can fuck with minds. Hypnotic suggestions and all that.”
The shiver turns into a shudder. “Okay. Wow. Vampires exist, too.”
He reaches out and squeezes my hand like he did in the stairwell. ”You”re safe with me, Madison. Do you believe that?”
I draw in a breath, considering. The connections are still coming together in my mind as I sort through all of our past interactions. When I view them through the lens of Brick being a werewolf, they make more sense. The weird rules about no fragrances in the building. The prohibition against silver. His reaction to having me show up in the Berkshires and spending Thanksgiving with the pack. The protectiveness of everyone around him.
I see what Blackthroat meant. It was never about our social status difference. I thought that because of my own hang ups with money, but it was a werewolf-human thing. I’m an outsider getting too close.
So am I safe with him?
Yes, I think I am.
His behavior toward me points only toward a steady and continued interest in me. He”s not dragging me off to his place now to make me his wolf-dinner. Or turn me into one of his kind. Or even mind-wipe me with a vampire. I know when he”s lying. He does that overly-scornful act.
Besides, why would he tell me about the vampire thing if he planned to use it on me?
“Yes,” I answer him out loud. “Why are we going to your place?”
This time there’s no mistaking the meaning behind his look. It’s positively feral. “Because, Windows, I haven’t feasted between your legs in over four days, and it’s absolutely killing me.”
I squirm in my seat.
Brick’s nostrils flare. “I can smell your arousal, sweetheart. Good thing we’re here.” He drives into an underground parking garage with a manned gate. The security guard waves to Blackthroat as he drives through. After a spiral downward we go through a few more gates–these automatic–and enter what appears to be a luxury car showroom. The spotless floor is coated in a gleaming pale silver epoxy, the ceiling has ultra-modern recessed light banks. A few dozen gorgeous cars worth eight figures each fill the parking spaces.
“What…where are we?”
“My garage.”
I barely hold in my gasp. “Your…personal garage?”
“Yes. But a lot of these cars belonged to my father.”
I’m dying. Literally dying. I’m not a car person, but if I were, I’d probably orgasm right here. There are Jaguars and Astin Martins, Porsches and limousines. New models. Old ones. All in mint condition. “Gulp.”
Brick walks around to take my hand when I get out. “Did you just say gulp?” He pushes me against a shiny red Ferrari and insinuates one muscular thigh between my legs.
“Yes.”
“Get used to my money, Windows.”
I confess to being a little drugged by his dominance. His pushing me up against the car and molding his body against mine has me breathless. So I blink up in confusion. “What?”
“You have a hang-up with money. A chip on your shoulder.”
“I have a chip?” I sputter.
His grin makes him look boyish. The way his hands roam inside the coat he bought me makes me squirm, and I rub my needy clit against his thigh wedged between my legs. “You definitely have issues with it.” He lowers his head and nibbles at my neck. “I want to spoil you with my money. Will you let me?”
Oh my gawd. It’s not dirty talk. I mean, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it to be, but everything in me electrifies at his words. My nipples turn as hard as diamonds, my core clenches. As much as he’s right–I do have hang-ups with his money–this request, delivered in Brick’s demanding, bossy way, nearly makes me come.
He wants to spoil me with his money.
I have parameters and definitions about money. I want to earn it. Legitimately. Through my hard work and brains. I don’t want it given to me. I resent people–like the Blackthroats–who had it handed to them without hard work or earning it.
I didn’t like finding out Eleanor Harrington paid for my secondary education or that I may have gotten financial assistance from Princeton through her connections.
But something about Brick’s request blows all my armor around money off. Strips me bare. Spreads my legs and demands I receive.
“M-maybe.” I’m trembling again, only this time it’s not from fear.
“Are you cold, sweet girl?” In a flash, I find myself up in Brick’s arms. I guess now that he doesn’t have to hide his superior strength, he can show off a little. I loop my arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh.
He carries me to an elevator, which seems to have a thumbprint recognition because after he presses his thumb, a crisp, computerized voice says, “Welcome, Mr. Blackthroat,” and the doors swish open.
“Oh my God!” I laugh.
He must hear some judgment in my astonishment because he says, “You’re hard to impress, you know that, Madison?”
I think that guts me more than anything. Has Blackthroat been trying to impress me and thought he’d failed?
Far from it.
So very far.
“I just hide it well. I’m not immune to your many charms, Big Bad. I just pretend I am.”
“I’m not sure I’ve been called charming before.” Another thumbprint recognition zips us up in the elevator, and the doors open to a short hallway leading to a single door. The penthouse is a beautiful space–brick walls and hardwood floors. Wall-to-wall windows overlook Central Park. The ceilings are lofted with exposed fixtures and pipes. It somehow manages to be both warm and industrial at once. Masculine but refined. There are Persian rugs on the floors, and the furniture is a mix of antique and modern.
“I think you’re purposely anti-charming,” I accuse as he strides through the living room and takes me straight to the bedroom–which also features floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the park and a giant king bed in the middle of the room.
“Definitely.”
“Can dinner be a part of tonight’s activities?” I ask when I realize his plan. It’s past eight, and I’m starving.
He stops, closing his eyes as if he’s angry with himself for forgetting. Either that or he’s mustering control. “Of course. I’m so sorry.”
“Trophy,” I mutter.
He chuckles. “I’ll order some food to be brought up. I really need to get you naked right now.” He tosses me effortlessly into the middle of the bed, and I shimmy out of my coat and kick my heels onto his rug. “But I do want to take you out soon. For dinner. For lunch. To Paris. Rome. Milan. May I court you, properly, Madison Evans?”
I try to breathe through the giddiness. This can’t all be true. He’s way too Prince Charming. And I’m way too Cinderella.
He tilts his head when I don’t answer.
“Yes, sir?” I offer with a smile.
“Oh, are we doing the sir thing?” He never put a tie back on after shifting, but he produces one from his pocket now.
I suddenly understand why he keeps changes of clothes at the office. In case he spontaneously shreds his suit changing into wolf form.
“Okay, Windows. I’ll give you what you need from your Big Bad Boss.” He snaps the tie between two hands like he’s showing me a belt, then rolls me to my belly and pins my hands behind my back.
I laugh and kick my feet, creaming my panties when he winds the tie around my wrists and secures them.
“That should hold you while I order food and then take my time turning this ass pink.” He slides both hands up the backs of my thighs, dragging the hem of my dress with them.
I moan softly, soaking the gusset of my G-string.
Brick leans over and bites one cheek as he strokes the other with a light caress.
“Ooh!” I squeal.
He continues to trail his fingertips over my ass while he pulls out his phone and calls a restaurant. “Brick Blackthroat speaking,” he says gruffly.
“Mr. Blackthroat. What can I do for you?” I hear the simpering reply.
“Send over an order of all your specials today and bill it to my card on file with a hundred dollar tip.”
No wonder they simper. Blackthroat may bark a lot, but he”s not ungenerous.
“How many entrees total, Mr. Blackthroat?”
“I don’t care. There are two of us, but I want to be sure there’s something she likes, so send a variety.”
“Absolutely. Right away, sir.”
The moment he ends the call–at least I hope he ended it–his hand claps down on my ass, making me startle and gasp.
“I’m going to make you regret stonewalling me, little girl,” he growls, slapping the other side.
“Did you say something?” I tease because I don’t answer to little girl.
He delivers a flurry of hard spanks, and I kick and squeal. “Don’t pretend your nipples don’t get hard every time I call you that.” He rubs a circle around my ass, then slides his fingers under my panties to rub between my legs. “But what would you prefer? Babygirl? Little one? HILF?”
“Human you’d like to fuck?
“Human I love to fuck.” He peels my G-string down and off my legs. “HINF. Human I need to fuck.” He lifts my hips up until I’m resting on my knees with my ass in the air, my face pressed into his luxurious grey down comforter. He palms my ass and licks into me from behind, making me scream into the covers.
He tortures me with a slow roll of his tongue around my clit, then a circuit around all my folds. “Fates, I missed that taste.” He nips and kisses my inner thighs, my labia, my entrance. The stubble on his face chafes the delicate skin, adding to the heat he delivered when he spanked me.
My belly shudders in and out, my inner thighs tremble. My arms are starting to ache from being pinned behind my back. “I’m ready,” I murmur.
“Ready for what?” Brick bites the back of my thigh, and I warble.
“I don’t need more foreplay. I mean, if you want to–”
I hear the zipper on Brick’s trousers. “You don’t have to ask me twice, sweetheart. I need to get between those legs like I need my next breath.”
He isn’t kidding. Within three seconds, he’s impaled me with his thick cock, filling me with long, slow strokes. “Madi…” His voice is rough. He sounds lost.
He unties my wrists and hoists my torso up, so I can rest on my hands, giving him access to my breasts. He plays with them, pinching and rolling my nipples as he bumps my ass with his loins.
I close my eyes, my cells alive and vibrating. This man has always been able to play my body like a maestro. He produces a symphony of sensations that become too much to track individually. The sex I had before Brick was like the jangled notes that come from an untuned violin in a beginner’s hands. I had no idea the explosive possibilities pleasure could hold before him.
I’m reveling in it all when he pulls out. “On your back, Windows. I need to see your face when I make you come.” I roll onto my back, and he enters me again. “That’s it.” He rocks into me and caresses my cheek. “So beautiful.”
His eyes glint yellow. As he stares down at me, I fear he sees everything. How much he means to me. How afraid I am of believing this is real. Of trusting him enough to let go and let him in.
I must be right because he pins my wrists beside my head and says, “You”re still holding back. How do I conquer you–the sassy assistant who brought me to my knees?”
I try to hold onto my heart, which has grown wings and is attempting to fly out of my chest.
“I don’t want to be conquered.” My voice sounds raspy. Broken.
“No, you don”t, do you? You know my secrets, but you won”t give me yours. What does it take to win your heart?”
I blink back the moisture in my eyes. Turn my head to the side to escape the torture of his scrutiny. Brick steadily rocks into me.
“Take me.” He punctuates the words with thrusts, but I suspect this is more than dirty talk. “Take all of me. Receive me. Let me in. I want you, Madi. I want you to want me as much as I need you.”
I moan beneath him. Writhe against the hold he has on my wrists. The hold on my heart. His words pierce me, wound me, brand me. They bring me to orgasm–a rolling slow one that starts with a squeeze and ends with me screeching and yanking Brick’s hips into mine with my legs behind his back.
He bucks against me, thrusting forcefully, making the bed bounce and rock and slam against the brick wall. His eyes glow pure wolf, and I swear he nearly howls when he comes.
“Brick.”
“Madi.”
We speak each other’s names like we’re each describing our particular brand of heaven.
“Brick.”
“Madi.”
Like we’re finding each other in the dark.
Like we’ve been lost and alone and just found the one person in the world who knows who we really are.
“You’re a wolf,” I murmur in awe, remembering. Honoring.
“You’re everything,” he whispers back.
* * *
Brick
“Don’t get up,” I murmur when the doorman downstairs calls up about the food arriving. I slip on a pair of pants and pull on a t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”
“Are we eating in bed?” she calls after me.
“Yes.”
I don’t ever want her to leave my bed. I’m going to keep her naked and available to me for the rest of the night. And tomorrow morning. In fact, we can ditch work and stay in between the sheets all day long.
That thought puts a cocky smile on my face as I open the door and accept the large bag of food. When was the last time I smiled? I can’t even remember.
All I know is my wolf is tremendously soothed by having Madi in my place. I love having her scent on my skin, her taste on my tongue. I know bringing her home doesn’t solve my bigger problems, but it’s a temporary reprieve from the need that was tearing me apart.
It buys me time while I figure out how to make this work. I wanted to mark Madi when we had sex. Or rather, my wolf did. It’s time to accept the fact that my wolf chose a human as his mate. I need to claim her forever as mine. I have to trust that nature knows best, despite the destruction mating her could bring on my life.
I need to talk to my team. I need them onboard with this. By my side. Maybe there’s a way to keep Madi and the pack. There has to be.
I grab a couple forks from the kitchen and carry the food back to bed, along with bottles of the fancy water I like. Madi rolls her eyes when she sees them. She’s sitting up in my bed, the sheet wrapped around her waist, her skin flushed like she’s a goddess.
“Oh my God. You have the same water here? You really do like it.”
“Of course I do.” I unscrew the cap and hand one to her.
“I thought maybe that was just one of those ridiculous challenges you set up to test me. Like the 6 degrees Celsius thing.”
My adorable, brilliant assistant. “You didn’t fall for any of it, did you?”
Her smile is unguarded. Warm. “You must know by now that I love a challenge.”
“I do.” I open all the containers and spread them between us on the bed. There are seven in all–steak, salmon, two different salads, scallops, chicken, and pasta. “Take your pick, Windows.”
She reaches for the salmon. I note her choice with interest. I want to learn all her quirks. What she likes. What she hates. What I can do to make her life fulfilling.
My wolf is desperate to take care of her. To feed her, protect her, satisfy her.
He’s desperate to mark her, but it’s far too soon for that. She just found out I’m a wolf. I’m not about to explain the entire fated mate situation and the fact that my wolf needs to sink his teeth into her and embed my scent in her delicate human flesh to prove she’s mine. Marking a human is a dangerous business–another reason shifters and humans don’t usually mix. She doesn’t have the natural healing properties wolves do. My bite will cause her lasting pain and permanent scars. If I hit an artery, it could kill her. Then, there’s always the chance of infection.
I pick up the container with the steak and devour it. Shifting makes me hungry as hell.
“Is your helicopter pilot a wolf?” Madi licks a drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth and my dick goes hard again.
“Acker? No.”
“So that’s why he was placed in the servant’s quarters at Thanksgiving, too?”
I take the empty container of food from her hands and set it aside on my bedside table. “They weren’t servant’s quarters. I told you that before, Windows. I wanted you as far away from me as possible because of your scent.”
“What about it?”
“It drives me insane.”
She blinks at me. “In a good way?”
“In an insane way. Like an itch I can’t scratch.”
“I’m an itch you can’t scratch?”
“You’ve been the worst kind of temptation to me, Madison Evans. Sassy and smart with this citrus and spice scent that makes me want to devour you.” I fist her hair in the back to pull her face to mine for a kiss.
The scent of her arousal blooms between us.
“What about Genevieve?”
“What?” I’m thinking about kissing those lips until they’re swollen, but of course Madi’s still putting everything together in that genius brain of hers.
“Is she a wolf?”
“No. Just a well-paid HR exec.”
I watch her as her mind turns. “Jerry!” She lifts her gaze to mine in triumph.
“The janitor? Yes. How’d you guess?”
“He doesn’t follow the same rules as the other janitors. He doesn’t wear the uniform. Indira said there are certain people who seem like they get special treatment at Moon Co.”
“That’s because I trust wolves more. Jerry is the only janitor I allow on the executive levels to clean. There’s too much at risk to trust a human.”
“I’d like to unpack that prejudice with you at some point, but I have too many immediate questions.”
I stack the uneaten food containers on the floor beside the bed. “Ask away, Windows.”
“Does it hurt?”
“What? Shifting? No. I mean, it’s not always comfortable, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Will you show me your wolf again?”
I smile indulgently and stand up from the bed to remove my clothes. Madi sucks in a sharp breath when I shift, drawing back. I jump up on the bed beside her. She tentatively reaches for me and strokes my fur.
“My what big teeth you have,” she murmurs, but when I smile, showing more fang, she yanks her hand back like she’s afraid.
I shift back, chuckling.
“Does the government know?”
“There are some incidences of government captivity and testing on our kind. An attempt to create super soldiers or something. There are also private collectors and crazy scientists who have captured shifters for their personal gain. There’s a clandestine group called Venators who capture shifter juveniles to hunt them when they first shift.”
“That’s…horrible.”
“Yes. Two more questions, and then I’m going to ravish you again.”
Her eyes light up. “Are you?”
“Yes. Scratch that. You’re out of questions. I need to be inside you again.”
It’s not hyperbole. My wolf wants to mark Madi with a desperation I feel all the way in my bones. Sex is the only answer. I just need to tide him off with lots and lots of sex.