Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Fuck. She almost died today. But worse is the effect on her spirit.
Crushing her spirit was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I need to figure out how we can recover from this.
The shower turns on in the bathroom.
The logical thing would be for me to leave. To give her some privacy now. But somehow I know if I leave her now, she’ll be lost to me forever. Even with the taste of her still on my tongue, I haven’t recovered her heart yet.
Fuck–her heart?
When did I ever want her heart? I scrub a hand over my face. I want to deny this attachment I have to her, but I can’t. Everyone in this lodge just witnessed the depth and extent of it today when I went insane over her safety.
So I stay. I fold my hands behind my head and try not to think of how glorious she must look under the spray of water. Naked and wet.
When she comes out with a towel wrapped around her, her gaze bounces to me, and I swear she looks relieved to find me still in her bed, rather than annoyed.
I sit up in the bed. “Are you hurt?” I swing my legs over the side and extend my arms, inviting her to come to me. “May I see?”
She seems calmer. A little more like herself although still too quiet. She comes over to me, and I take her hands and examine her fingers. I don’t know what I’m looking for–I have no idea what frostbite on a human looks like, but she seems all right. I check her ears, her toes. Her face is chapped pink from the wind, which makes her look even more beautifully alive than ever.
“How did you get those bruises on your shins?”
“I fell down a ravine. I was following my tracks in the snow to get back, but I didn’t see the gulch with all the snow, and once I was down in it, I couldn’t figure out how to get out.”
I swear softly and drop my forehead against her sternum. I want to pluck the towel ends open and worship her body again, but I know she needs rest.
“What time is dinner?” she asks.
“I suspect whenever we make an appearance.” I stand and get dressed.
Madison dons a blue dress that belongs to Ruby.
“No.” I shake my head, surveying her. “I want the window.”
She puts her hands on her hips. I’m more relieved than I care to admit when I see traces of amusement around her pretty lips. “Now you want windows?”
I give her a casual shrug. “I'm already going to be dining with blue balls, I might as well enjoy the view.”
This wins me a definite smirk, and I’m gratified when she complies. Looks like I am still her boss. Satisfaction rushes in, so much sweeter after nearly losing her.
She pulls on her window dress from yesterday, and I walk over, unable to resist touching. I reach for her waist and slide my hands up and down her sides. I turn her away from me and cup one breast from behind. “Now that you’re unfireable,” I murmur in a low growl in her ear, “I’ll be dealing with your insubordination and disobedience my way.”
“What way is that?” There’s honey in her voice.
“Guess.”
Her breath catches, and she squirms, wiggling her soft ass against my lap. The scent of her arousal makes my dick punch out hard against my zipper.
I cup her pussy possessively, and she grinds against my palm. I grind back. “You guessed correctly,” I murmur.
I listen to the way she holds her breath then releases it in a rush. I work her breast with one hand while my other slides up her skirt to slip inside her panties.
So much for letting her rest.
“Expect punishment,” I growl. She’s wet, and the tip of my finger sinks in without me even trying. I press the heel of my hand over her clit as I arc my finger in and out of her. “Flying out here and going out in a blizzard–twice–is going to get you punished.” I fingerfuck her a little faster. “You don’t get to come again,” I decree. “Not when it’s punishment. You’re going to be as needy as I am at dinner.” I remove my hands from her and straighten her dress.
My beautiful assistant is out of breath, panting. When she turns to look at me, her eyes are dilated and bright. “I have to confess, I um, may be out of my depth with you in this regard.”
“You’re out of your depth with me in every regard, but that never stops you,” I tell her, like the cocky bastard that I am. “You hold the cards, though. But you knew that the first time I asked you not to wear this.” I trace the outline of the window, ending with the pad of my finger between her breasts and staying there.