Lielit
Girl, extract your claws from his arm. She’s gone, Bouda said as we watched the socialite retreat after Blaidd sneered at her.
When Blaidd’s fingers tightened on my hip, I realised how uncomfortable he’d been with the woman inching into his space. Apparently, he was a weirdo—but he was my weirdo.
Jodie Quinn was a social media princess, and the only reason she’d been invited was because of her industrial-tycoon father. She was probably used to people fawning over her.
I loosened my grip on Blaidd’s arm as he guided me outside. The fresh air was a relief—I hadn’t realised how sensitive my senses had become.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” he murmured as we approached the car.
When I glanced at him, he wasn’t mocking me. A small smile curved his lips instead.
“Maybe if you had a proper shave next time, you could avoid the attention,” I grumbled, gathering my dress before climbing into the car.
“Are you victim-shaming me, Ms Tolera?” he drawled as he slid in beside me with infuriating smoothness.
I couldn’t imagine him—or Fenrir—being a victim in any situation.
The car door closed, and we pulled away. Blaidd covered my hand with his, fingers curling beneath my palm.
“I didn’t wash my hands in the bathroom,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
His hand froze for a moment before relaxing again.
“I can smell the bergamot hand soap.”
Damn. He had a good nose.
“Orange and bergamot,” I corrected.
“Do you know what else I smell, Lielit?” he asked, tightening his grip around my hand.
I closed my eyes, and his scent flooded my senses—sharp, clean, unmistakably him—wrapping around me like cologne I couldn’t escape.
He inhaled slowly. Once. Then again.
I wasn’t helping my cause.
“I can smell how wet that pussy is for me right now. It has both of us drooling,” he said, his voice low and deep.
It’s the need to mark our territory, Bouda murmured.
My eyes snapped open as understanding slammed into place.
“I can smell your need. I can feel your pulse race,” he continued, pressing two fingers against my wrist, grounding me there. Claiming the beat beneath my skin. “And I know only my knot can satisfy that greedy little hole.”
When I didn’t respond, he pressed a button.
“Get us home as fast as you can,” he snapped, releasing it a second later.
He shifted closer. One hand settled over my belly, the other closing around my fingers—grounding, possessive. Most mornings, I woke to that same weight on my stomach. The memory only made it worse.
Heat pooled low in my body. I could feel the slick spreading over the gusset of my thong.
His head dipped, lips brushing my bare shoulder before tracing slowly along my collarbone.
“Are you going to soak me with that tight little cunt, Lielit?” he murmured, his mouth skimming my jaw. “Like you did when I fucked our babies inside you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. The words were crude—but during the heat, we’d both lost control. Pretending otherwise was pointless.
“Touch me. Feel how hard you make me. How swollen my knot is for you,” he said, warm breath feathering my ear.
His tongue curled around my earlobe.
I pulled my hand free and slid it down the hard muscle of his thigh until he hissed. Beneath the soft fabric of his trousers, I felt his straining cock—and the bulging knot beneath it.
“You’re so fucked when we get home,” he snarled, barely restrained.
And for tonight, I refused to think about anything but the growing need between us.
?
?
?
As soon as the car came to a halt, Blaidd flung the door open and hauled me out with both hands, as if afraid I’d change my mind. We were upstairs in seconds.
His bow tie fluttered to the floor as he tore his jacket off.
“Turn around,” he ordered quietly, already closing the distance.
I slipped off my heels and faced the bed we’d shared all week. He tugged at the lace ties, loosening them with swift, efficient movements. His fingers brushed my lower back as he worked. The bodice shifted, then slid down, leaving me in nothing but lace thongs. He removed my scarf last.
“Lie on the bed,” he murmured, his voice low. “Hands together. Waiting to be tied.”
He nudged me forward.
I climbed onto the mattress and noticed the scarf draped around his neck—long enough to bind my wrists and then some.
He removed his cufflinks and slipped them into his pocket. His shirt followed, discarded to the floor, before he climbed onto the bed and straddled me.
“You’re not very good at following instructions,” he chided mildly as he brought my hands together, pushing my bracelet up.
“It’s nice that even at your age you still have dreams,” I said lightly, ignoring Bouda’s laughter while he grunted.
I watched as he wrapped the soft fabric around my wrists, threading it between them. There was so much length that he finished with a neat bow.
“Do you think you can keep your hands above your head?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I guess we’ll find out,” I replied, lifting my arms.
He slid down my legs and popped his trouser button. The zipper followed. He stepped off the bed to remove them—then his underwear.
I swallowed.
I’d forgotten how big he was. How angry his knot looked. Or the faint burning memory of when he pushed it inside me.
“I’ve missed that hungry look in your eyes,” he murmured, snapping me out of my daze.
It made me wonder just how hungry Jodie must have been to try getting close to Blaidd while he was standing right beside me.
“You weren’t tempted by Jodie?” I growled.
I frowned as he moved back onto the bed.
“Who?”
“Quinn Industries. Alex Quinn’s daughter,” I said flatly. “We read the same briefing.”
Something finally clicked behind his eyes.
“Oh. Her.”
I stared at him as he continued, utterly unfazed.
“I am biologically incapable of attraction to another female. Even before we bonded to you, I could barely tolerate their stench.”
My jaw dropped.
Then again, considering his long list of strange habits—many of which I’d started exploiting purely out of boredom—it probably shouldn’t have surprised me.
“I did things to you during your heat that I never thought I was capable of,” he murmured, covering my belly with both hands.
His gaze travelled slowly up my body, unhurried, deliberate, until it reached my face.
“And I’d do it all over again,” he said, a dark smile curving his mouth. “Twice, for good measure.”