Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
A powerful alpha like me shouldn’t let a vampire toy with him, especially not in a public scene. But Thaddeus is an important ally. Bringing a newly claimed mate to scene at his club is an old tradition in New York amongst the paranormal crowd. To refuse his demands after requesting a favor would be bad form.
Still, if I hadn’t caught the scent of Madison’s arousal when she heard about the leech’s request, I would’ve refused the vampire king, consequences be damned. But Madi was turned on. She’s never been to a BDSM club. Never experienced the kind of formal or ritualized sex play that goes on in those venues.
I strongly suspect the atmosphere and our scene there will fulfill multiple fantasies for my dominance-loving mate. Probably several she didn’t even know she had. I know how my authority makes her drip.
What my mate wants, she gets.
The idea of showing her that world–being her guide to the devilry–turns me on. Part of me can’t wait to be her dom in a BDSM club. The other part fears I’ll lose control of my wolf and tear some other male to pieces for looking at her.
But she’ll be under my control the entire time. No one else will touch her. And I could blindfold her if I don’t want her looking at any other males. Hmm. What might really soothe my wolf would be to have her on a collar and leash.
When I get to our building, I ignore the elevator and take the stairs. I bound them two at a time. Damn the vampire king for bringing this about, but tonight? Tonight is all about us. All about sensation and the connection we have.
Her scent teases me the moment I enter the hall to the penthouse. My cock strains against my zipper as I follow it, hunting her like prey. I turn the key in the lock and enter. I find her in our bedroom. She followed my orders, as I knew she would. My mate always gets it right.
She’s in the shadows, at attention, her legs spread, her hands on her head.
She’s perfect.
“Good girl,” I purr.
“Am I?” Her voice is sultry.
Madi
Brick prowls into the room. “Yes, you are.”
My calves are tight from waiting. I’m used to uncomfortable heels, but standing still for minutes at a time? How do models do it?
But now, with him here, the wait was worth it. His presence fills the space with his woodsy scent and something more–his dominance. It’s all enveloping, blanketing my senses. The stiff muscles in my back and neck relax. After a long day at the office, giving orders, it’s nice to have someone else take control. I can finally turn off my brain and sink into him.
As he paces around me, I can feel him studying me. I keep my own gaze level, staring straight ahead.
“Tonight is a test. A rehearsal for our scene.”
My heart pounds in time with his footsteps.
“You’ll obey my every command. Immediately and without question.”
Yes!
“When we’re at Twilight, the spotlight will be on us. They’ll want to see proof of my dominance.”
“I understand,” I say breathlessly.
He draws my head back with a fist in my hair. “I don't think you do. Everyone will be watching.”
The perfectionist in me is thrilled. I thrive on pressure, and a part of me wants to show off. I’ll get to do my best, and everyone will know how perfect I am.
“They’ll want to know who’s in control. And you know the answer to that, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
He stops, and his heat rolls over me, making me hold my breath. “Who owns you, Madi?”
“You do, sir.” My voice is choked with arousal. I could swoon.
“On your knees.” Brick tosses a pillow to the floor for my knees and puts a hand out for me to grasp as I lower to my knees. It’s a relief to be off the heels, and the pillow makes kneeling easy. He makes a show out of unbuckling his belt and sliding it out through the loops. He doubles it and slaps the leather into the palm of his hand making a whap sound.
I jump a little. I’m trembling now, a mixture of excitement with a tinge of nerves.
“Take my cock out,” he orders.
I quickly work to unbutton his pants and lower the zipper on his expensive slacks. His dick is hard, trapped in the fabric of his boxer briefs and pants, and it springs out when I lower his briefs enough to free it.
I reach for his erection, then stop myself, waiting for orders. I meet his gaze. “May I?”
“Hold it, Madi, nice and tight down by the base–that’s it,” he rumbles his approval when I close my fist around it. “Bring it to your mouth.”
The pleaser in me likes the specific instructions. There’s no need to wonder if I’m doing it the way he likes it or not. He tells me what to do, and I do it.