Knot Broken (The Wolfverse #5)

Chapter 1

Nadia

Good Vibes Clinic.

I read the text message for the umpteenth time, snorting at the cheesy business name, but what else could a sexual surrogate service call themselves?

Horny Helpers? Orgasm Outreach Program? Banging for the Broken?

At the last one, my smile faded and I looked up at the very impressive skyscraper in front of me.

The Crowe Corp building was suitably tall, shiny, and phallic looking.

Let’s just hope the surrogates are just as impressive, I thought, shoving my phone into my pocket and then making for the front door.

If I hoped to be less nervous once I got inside, I was sorely mistaken. I wasn’t the only person in the foyer and that had me surreptitiously eyeing all the people wearing smart business wear. Were they all going up to floor twelve and paying someone to have satisfactory sex as well?

No, because normal people didn’t do that. Just me.

As the numbers climbed, getting closer and closer to my floor, my hands formed fists.

Better that than starting to gulp in air like a fish out of water, because that’s what I was.

I couldn’t believe I’d let my therapist talk me into this.

Surely things weren’t that bad. My ex… All my exes…

They— A buzz had me drawing my phone back out.

You’ve got this, the message read.

Helena and I met in high school and we’d been besties since that first day. First boyfriends, first kisses, first breakups, we’d been through it all. I’d even held her hand through a sexual health screening when a condom broke during a hookup.

And now I was going to see my first sexual health professional.

I smiled at the phone, almost able to hear her voice when I saw the message, but whatever good feeling I was having, it was shoved to one side as the lift doors slid open.

Floor twelve, I saw, winding my way through the other lift occupants to stumble out into a very professional looking lobby.

On the wall, there was a list of the different organisations with arrows to point you in the right direction.

I found Good Vibes and then looked down the hall, seeing an office right at the end.

The signage was simple, elegant, tasteful, giving a legitimacy to something I still struggled to accept.

“A sexual surrogate can help you with psychological blocks getting in the way of intimacy or sexual satisfaction,” my therapist said. “A psychiatrist might be able to diagnose a mental health condition that’s affecting your sexual experience and provide pharmacological help, if appropriate, but…”

The older woman had a mumsy vibe, which was part of the reason why I chose her, but now this just made an awkward conversation so much worse.

“We’ve talked about lots of different strategies you could use when getting intimate with someone,” she said and I couldn’t have hated her gentle tone more. Like I was a small child needing coddling. “So far you’ve found them really difficult to implement.”

I blinked, seeing my ex, Grant, looming over me.

His face was a mask of self-satisfaction as he rutted away above me, but I…

? Feeling nothing would’ve been more pleasant than this.

Having my pleasure ignored. Him telling me yet again that he’d ‘look after me’ later, but right now he needed this. To use me as a means to an end.

“Unfortunately I can’t provide a list of eligible men who have the communication skills and emotional intelligence to give you what you need, so…

” She’d pushed the brochure towards me. “Good Vibes is a new service being offered at Crowe Corp. They’re branching out into the wellness space, but the director is someone I know well.

Talk to Brendan and his staff about your needs, take some control of the situation in a safe space.

” Her slow nod had my head moving slightly.

“It’s unorthodox, but I think it could really help. ”

And that was why I was here. I, Nadia Murray, was going to have good sex, even if it killed me. Dumping Grant six months ago was the first step.

And this was going to be the last.

I strode down the hallway, channelling all that nervous energy into moving towards the frosted front door, not away.

I walked past an open office that was obviously mid-construction, weaving my way between rolls of plastic and toolboxes set against the wall, before coming to a stop in front of the door.

“Give it a go,” Helena had said over a bottle of wine last night. My head was still throbbing slightly as a result. “Who knows what could happen. It could be amazing, Nads.”

Clammy hands wasn’t a hangover symptom, so I gripped the handle tight and pulled it open.

Walking into Good Vibes was almost anticlimactic. No sleekly dressed receptionist at the front desk. Instead, the place seemed empty. I took one step forward, then another, looking around for someone, anyone, when he walked in.

Oh. My. Goddess.

Brendan had obviously taken a lot of notes during our conversations, because this guy could’ve stepped right out of one of the dreams that had me tossing and turning at night.

Brown hair that was just a little too long and curly at the edges.

Blue eyes that met mine, the skin around them crinkling.

A little grey in his beard to give him a bit of gravitas, but it was the clothing that drew me closer.

Wearing a plaid shirt so soft, I longed to stroke its nap, a pair of worn jeans, and heavy leather boots, he was a perfect manifestation of my sexy tradie fantasies.

“Wow, the attention to detail is amazing,” I said, drawing closer then gesturing at him. “Like you got everything right.” With a peer at his boots, I blinked. “Even sawdust on your boots, to give the whole look some authenticity.”

“Right.” His voice was so deep I had to fight back the urge to shiver. “So you…”

His nostrils flared and he sucked a breath in, which was the moment when his pupils blew wide.

Another breath, then another, and he was closing the gap between us.

A hand went to my arm, callused fingers sliding across my skin, then his thumb drew a slow circle.

A prickle of sensation started at just that tiny touch.

So far, so good.

His eyes shone silver for just a second and I had no idea how Brendan managed that.

Only an alpha’s eyes shone, but it was all part of my fantasy.

Grant always complained about the amount of romance books I read, but hey, a girl needed all the burly alphas claiming their mates she could get if she was forced to endure everyday beta men.

“What do you need, omega?” the man said, in a growl that was just like I’d imagined it would be.

“Don’t you know?”

Some of my confidence faltered then. On the phone, Brendan and I had hammered out the exact scenario I wanted to experience.

It took a lot of coaxing on his part, but he’d promised to make it happen.

I’d asked for what I wanted in detail for the first time ever.

It couldn’t all go wrong before I’d even taken one piece of clothing off.

“Think I’m gonna need you to say it.”

His hand going under my chin, tilting it up slowly so my eyes met his. That slow, sexy smile. My heart rate slowed instantly and a great whoosh of breath escaped me.

Everything was going as planned.

Brendan had urged me to add this section to the fantasy.

Learning how to ask for what I wanted in a safe space, where I was guaranteed to get it, would help to start building some new neural pathways.

With time and repetition, he assured me I’d become more confident with actual sexual partners.

Having horrible, dry, shitty sex ended now.

“I want…” My hand landed on his chest and dear god, he was just as big and well-muscled as he looked. “I want to touch this shirt for starters because wow, this feels even softer than I thought it would.”

His lips twitched, a small smile forming.

“You can touch whatever the hell you like,” he rumbled.

Abort, my brain told me. GTFO. In my head, some ancient robot was flailing his arms around, telling me I was in danger. I went to pull away, to make for the doorway, because that was not what I wanted.

Grant, putting my hand on his dick. Grant, pushing my head down.

Making me touch him, please him, do whatever the hell he wanted and not giving a shit how I felt about it.

Shooting the man an apologetic look (and what the hell was that about?), I went to pull away when a hand covered mine.

I stopped and stared, almost able to count every single hair on the back of his hand.

“What I really, really want to do is touch you, omega, but I’m gonna need you to tell me that’s OK first.”

“Please.”

I stared up into his eyes, mutely pleading with him to just follow the script. I’d be more forthright next time, I promised myself. Right now, I just wanted things to go the way I planned. For him to take control for my pleasure, not his.

“That’s what I needed to hear.”

I let out a yelp as he picked me up in his arms like I was little more than a doll, carrying me into an adjoining room and then kicking the door shut.

“You really went all in on the fantasy,” I said, looking at the construction gear littered around the room, then zeroing in on a workbench as we approached. Without letting go of me for a second, pencils, plans, everything was swept off the table and then I was placed on top of it.

“Need to know a whole lot more about that fantasy,” he said, stepping between my legs, “but right now we’re going to fulfil mine.

” My fingers gripped the edge of the table, nails boring into the wood.

“I’m going to strip you bare, then set you down on your hands and knees on this table, right before I devour every inch of you. ”

My spine began to straighten as he described my exact fantasy. A hand went to my foot, slipping off my sandal.

“Going to start at your instep.” A thumb pressed into the arch, then wound its way around my ankle. “Working my way up slowly. By the time I reach your cunt.” I jolted at the sound of that word, but it wasn’t an unpleasant thing. “I want you dripping. Need your slick all over my face, omega.”

OK, that was hot.

Any guy could’ve said the exact same words and I’d have recoiled back, thinking him a creeper, but Brendan or whoever he was, had skills. He delivered the lines with such intensity, I felt a pulse start up between my legs in anticipation.

“Is that what you want?” Those blue eyes rolled up to stare right into mine. “Say yes and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you come.” Yes, that, I wanted to say. “Two, maybe three times, before we move onto something even more fun.”

Having one orgasm with a partner was rare enough, so more…? I stared right back at him, mentally praying to the gods of sex to finally hear my pleas.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” I said.