Brick groans-a helpless sound. He wraps an arm around my waist and thrusts up now, lifting me to my toes with each pump. That’s better. Exactly where I need it.
“Yes…yes,” I cry out.
“Oh, fates.” Brick pumps harder, lifting and lowering me to meet his thrusts. It’s too much-I’m out of control, out of my mind, out of breath. But for once, I surrender.
I trust Brick to hold me up. To carry me through. To make me come.
He shouts, thrusting a few more times, then stays deep as he reaches around and rubs my clit. I come in a glorious burst of color and flavor and love.
His teeth graze my neck, and I find myself almost craving another bite-that satisfaction of his mark on me becoming visceral.
Time goes still. The aftershocks of our orgasms continue as we pant as one.
And then Brick takes over again, easing out of me, picking me up in a honeymoon carry and taking me out of the shower. He wraps a giant fluffy towel around me, nuzzling the spot on my shoulder that bears his bite mark. Slowly, reluctantly, he peels his hands off my bare arms and leaves my side to turn off the water.
Now that I’m looking at it up close, the gash on his side looks even worse. My brain comes back on line. “Was that made with teeth or claws?”
* * *
Brick
My darling mate. There’s no turning off that brilliant mind of hers. She’s already digging in, requesting more information for her to process.
“Teeth.” I dry her off, then wrap her in a fresh towel and pick her up to set her on the bathroom counter while I quickly towel off.
I’m surprised at how much I still physically need her.
I would have thought marking her would have taken the edge off, and it has, but not to the extent I expected. The entire time I was away this morning, my wolf was desperate to be with her.
Maybe it’s because I fear she’s in danger.
Or because I actually did go moon mad, and these are the after-effects. I’m still desperate to claim Madi, even though she’s already mine.
“What does the other guy look like?”
“I showed mercy.”
My father would’ve made him fight to the death for even having the audacity to challenge. I don’t think adding trauma to the shifter’s family-my pack members- strengthens my position as a leader.
“You heal quickly,” she observes.
There’s still so much she doesn’t know about us-including the basics like our healing properties and how a pack functions. She may have saved my life by coming to me in my moon madness, but we still have oceans to bridge.
Oceans I have no idea how to navigate.
“Yes. It will be gone in a few days. How is your wound?” I examine her puncture marks-the ones from my teeth. The site is not infected. It’s healed faster than a normal human wound because I’ve been licking it, and my saliva has healing properties, but it will still leave a scar.
She touches it. “I’m okay. No change since this morning.” She reminds me that I’ve already examined her today. Her voice has a note of stiffness in it that makes me wince.
“Brick…you literally locked me in here when you left.
With a key. That is unacceptable.”
I knew this conversation was coming. At least my wolf is calm after giving her pleasure. Using the key was idiotic on my part, but I didn’t have time to explain myself, and my wolf was frantic to keep her safe.
I turn away. As a leader, I’m used to hiding weakness or indecision-and Madison is my weakness.
“I’m sorry. That was wrong, Madi. I heard about an uprising and had to make quick decisions about how to quell it. I was afraid for your safety-that’s the only reason I locked you inside. It was overkill, I know.”
“The next time you lock me inside here, I will set fire to your penthouse,” she says in that same efficient, professional way she negotiated her way to a raise. “Then we’ll see how safe it is to lock a human in an apartment with no exit.”
I sense the color drain from my face. I scrub my hand over it. “Right. Fire hazard.”
“Fire hazard. Prison-whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t work. You don’t lock me in a room or a building ever. I don’t care how scared you are for my safety. That doesn’t work for me.”
“I’m sorry, Madi.”
Some of her professionalism drops away, and I glimpse uncertainty in her gaze.
I step in close and cradle her face in my hands. “I know we still have a lot to figure out.”
She nods. “I thought we would be figuring things out.
Together. Not you making unilateral Big Bad Boss decisions and locking me in your apartment.”
I wince again. “That was wrong. Let me make it up to you. I never got to court you properly. I’ll take you on a date tonight. Better yet, we could fly somewhere. Have you been to Paris? No-somewhere warm. A beach. Just you and me. A chance for us to get on the same page.”
I see her softening. I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
“Why can’t I go back to work?”
Fuck.
Madi must see the misgiving in my expression because she pulls out of my grasp. “Brick? Do people still think I caused the security breach?”
I stiffen. “Yes, some, but I am already working to correct that.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“The problem is that I marked you, Madi. Every wolf who works at Moon Co will know with one sniff of your scent.”
Her brow furrows. “And?”
“The pack cannot know about you.”
Madi
I try to shove Brick away.
He catches my elbows. “Just for now, Madi. Until the dust settles from this uprising. I can’t have my pack seeing me as weak.”
My stomach rumbles. I never ate breakfast-I was too upset with Brick. Of course, he hears it. I now know he has superhuman hearing.
“You’re hungry. Let me take you to lunch.” Brick reaches for his phone in the suit pants on the floor. “I’ll call John to pick us up.”
“I don’t want a helicopter ride to a fancy restaurant from you,” I say tightly.
Brick lowers the phone and catches my gaze. “What do you need, Madi?”
Tears prick my eyes. “I need to go home. My life isn’t here, locked in your penthouse. I have a family and friends.
Humans.” My lips twist in despair when I say the word humans. The realization of exactly how different my world is from Brick’s is still setting in.
I’d have thought we were worlds apart before because of our class status, income and age difference. Now I know it goes far deeper than that. And I fear it could be a divide we can’t bridge.
“Ah. You need your things. I sent over the stylist with clothes hoping that would be enough.”
“I don’t just want my things. I want my life!”
I watch as Brick’s expression grows resolved. “All right. Let’s go get your life.”
I blink at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going with you. I need to know you’re safe, Madison. But I will also do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
“Okay.” I hop off the bathroom counter. This time he lets me. “Let’s go to Brooklyn.”
Some of the constriction around my ribs that’s been present since this morning dissolves.
I put on a different fabulous outfit Elise left for me-buttery-soft wide-legged jeans with a knit crop top in sapphire that wraps around the waist. I put on a pair of Steve Madden sparkly sneakers to complete the casual look. Yes, I am purposely dressing like a Gen Z college student and not the smart-dressed former assistant who worked for Brick until she was wrongfully fired.
Maybe I want to illustrate just how different we are. Maybe I’m just trying to remember who I was before I went to work on Wall Street-not that I could afford sparkly Steve Madden sneakers then.
Brick doesn’t seem to mind the change. He makes a rumbling sound of approval, his gaze tracing around the little bit of skin showing where the sweater wraps at my waist. His eyes take on that amber glow as he stalks toward me, half-dressed. He picks me up by the waist and lifts me until my bare belly is in line with his mouth. He flicks his tongue over my skin.
I wriggle, turned on.
He opens his mouth wide and sucks a large section of my flesh into his mouth, slowly releasing it until the gesture becomes a lingering kiss.
My stomach rumbles again.
“Let’s get you a snack, and then we can stay in.” He looks over his shoulder at his bed, which is still piled high with my new clothes. I kick my feet, and he immediately puts me down. “You want to go to Brooklyn. Sorry.”
“Be careful. Your apologies are becoming almost frequent. What will your employees think if they find out?”
Brick turns away, stuffing his arms into a fresh button-down shirt. “I had to prove myself worthy of leading a pack and running a start-up venture when I was younger than you,” he says.
I go still, absorbing for the first time how bad-ass my boss really is. And how much he’s been through. “That’s right. No wonder you took on the role of boss-hole.”
He turns and hits me with a very boss-like raise of his brow. “Boss-hole, hmm?”
I take over buttoning his shirt. “Does that offend you, sir?”
He grabs the back of my head and delivers a ferocious kiss. His tongue lashes mine, his lips twist with bruising intensity. “It does,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against mine. “I think it deserves a reprimand.”
My panties soak.
“
After Brooklyn.”
He squeezes my ass roughly. “All right, Ms. Evans.” He delivers another incredible kiss. “But then I’ll need you to report to my bedroom for your spanking.”
My pelvic floor lifts and squeezes, and flutters of excitement flap in my belly. “Yes, sir.”
He pulls on a wool coat and holds mine out for me. These are the little boyfriend-like gestures I’m not used to.
I know Brick as my Big Bad Boss. I know him as a lover. I have no idea what it means to be his girlfriend. Or his mate.
He leads me out of the penthouse, murmuring “dismissed” to his bodyguards at the door.
“Yes, Alpha,” they say in unison.
We take the elevator down, and it opens to his private garage. He tries to lead me out, but I stall in the elevator. “We’re not driving one of your Lamborghinis to my ‘hood,” I tell him.
“Which car do you want to drive?”
“We’re taking the subway.”
Brick’s face goes bosslike again with disapproval. “No way. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I have the alpha of the most powerful pack in New York with me. Plus we’ll be surrounded by humans. It’s not like anyone can go wolfy on us in a crowded subway.”
Brick purses his lips, but he stabs the down arrow on the elevator, so I know I’ve won.
Score another one for the assistant.
Or human.
We walk to the subway station, and Brick pays our fares.
“Isn’t this fun?” I ask when we’re on the crowded train. There’s no room to sit, so I grab an overhead bar and Brick stands protectively behind me, blocking my body from the shuffle of passengers.
The train takes off, and Brick’s lids lower as if it turns him on to see me on a subway. I am now beginning to believe that everything I do turns him on.
It’s quite a power I have over him.
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