I swing my left leg over to my right, so I’m sitting sideways on his lap, my arse still bared. I drop my hand to the hard ridge that’s fighting against his zipper. I fumble for his button, eager to set him free.
His hand closes over my wrist, tighter than the handcuffs ever were. “No.”
“Dr. Patel says I’m clean.”
He shakes his head, once.
“We don’t need a johnny. We can do other things.”
The gold flares in his eyes, but he repeats, “No.”
“I’m your wife. Let me do this for you.” I trace the length of his cock with one fingernail.
He shudders like a dog coming out of a lake. But his hands close around my waist. He sets me on my feet before he rises out of his chair.
“No,” he says one last time, and he crosses the room, then the foyer. He heads down the hall to his office.
Rejection stings worse than everything else he’s done to me. I know how to fight—the Bad Men taught me that. But I don’t have a clue how to handle Wolf’s cold control. I can’t provoke him, can’t push him past his feckin’ limits.
I can’t win.
Alone, I pull up my knickers and sweatpants. I rub my wrists, which feel like they’ve been baptized by flame. I think about going to my own office, but I don’t want to be anywhere near him, so I go upstairs to our bedroom instead.
There’s a deadbolt above the doorknob, but I don’t turn it. I don’t care if Wolf comes in. I want him here. I want him with me, as I slip my hand past my waistband. As I find my aching clit. As I dip my fingers deep inside the needy hole he made so slick that I whine.
I finish in less than a minute. But the mechanical clutch-and-grab of my body leaves me empty, desperate for more. It’s only after I’ve settled against my pile of pillows with my mobile that I realize Wolf was right.
Hewasmore stubborn that I was.
33
COLE
I’m not used to having another person living in my home. There’s a reason I keep Nilsson and Anna across the street, the same reason the women I paid to come to the dungeon never spent the night. I value my privacy.
Even when I’m sitting in my office, I feel Kate’s presence in the house. She’s like the hum of a high-voltage wire or the trickle of a distant stream. She’s present at the edge of my mind every moment I’m awake.
Kate Lynch is trouble. She’s reached out to MaskedMarauder in the game. They’ve talked about StarCoin and NightSaber too. I half-expected her to convince him to come after Lone Wolf, after me.
But the clock ticks over to Tuesday, and I’ve managed to survive a full day with the hit list out in the open.The Wall Street Journalpicked up the story.Financial Timesran it too. I’ve spoken with every one of my clients. Most are staying with me, but adozen are jumping ship. I’m losing more than one hundred million dollars in expected income over the next twelve months.
A handful of reporters have followed up. They want confirmation of the list. They want to know who I think targeted me. They want to see me bleed. I control the damage as much as I can.
In the quiet minutes after midnight, I reread the new threat.
I know you never graduated from Dunbar High, and I know why. Twenty-five million will keep the world from knowing too.
Noon.
Next Sunday.
Don’t make the same mistake you made yesterday.
P.S. Congratulations on your wedding.
I’m not sure Lone Wolf can survive another day like yesterday. But if I open the tap and pay the demand, I know I’m doomed. Nothing will keep the blackmailer from holding me up for more cash whenever they want.
Staring at the screen, I cycle through the questions that have taunted me since the first demand.