Chapter 325. An Office Romance VI

Chapter 325: 325. An Office Romance VI

Maisie

The room emptied out in a matter of seconds.

The humans moved even if they didn’t understand why their primal instincts were suddenly screaming at them to flee.

Annoyance flashed across Randall’s face but his human psyche couldn’t override Soren’s command, and he jerked up from his seat tightly, storming for the door with his shoulders trembling.

The Councils were no better, gathering their files and abandoning their seats in swift, jerky movements with their heads lowered in utter submission.

I sat, momentarily frozen in my chair. You have to understand. I had never in my life force witnessed a more brutal act of dominance, hinged on two simple words.

Jericho was the last one in the room.

He hadn’t moved an inch. There was something disturbingly violent in his eyes as he watched Soren. His fingers twitched like he was considering closing the distance and smashing his fist into Soren’s face.

And for a moment, I thought he would. For a moment, I feared the tension slicing the air in the room would lead to blood and destruction, as it often did when Lycans fought each other.

But Soren turned his head, just slightly, finally acknowledging that there was someone else in here with us. Someone who also had a claim to me.

"No," Jericho growled. "You’re not taking this from me. She wants me."

An amused smile lifted Soren’s mouth. It was dripping with mockery. "Hm. Maybe, but it isn’t the thought of you that has her dripping all over my chair, is it?"

Shame crawled up my neck, but a hoarse laugh escaped Jericho. "This is about the transition? Because I had her first? She wanted me then, and I’m the one she writhed for last night, you shitty, rutting asshole."

Er... what?

Soren’s fingers drummed on the table. "You didn’t have her first. You stole that from me." His fingers stretched and an evil grin split his lips. "There’s nothing wrong with being second, Jer. I’d even let you watch if you ask nicely."

The last sentence seemed to strike a harsh chord in Jericho, because his eyes went pitch black again.

I thought I was missing a vital part of this conversation.

"No begging then?" Soren mused wickedly and I wondered why the hell he was pushing Jericho’s buttons like this.

"Stop it," I hissed, inching away, but his other hand hadn’t left my wrist yet, and Soren waved Jericho off, "Very well, then. Be a dear and shut the door behind you."

Jericho’s gaze dropped to me. To the flush on my cheeks. To the peaks of my nipples pressing against my sweater. Before lowering, like he could smell the heat from between my legs.

Something both murderous and hungry moved through his face before he begrudgingly returned his gaze to Soren. "This isn’t over."

And the door slammed behind him hard enough that I flinched. I was shocked Jericho didn’t take out the entire wall with him.

I yanked my hand out of his, putting some distance between us. "What is wrong with you?"

Soren leaned back in his seat, the move deceptively smooth. His eyes might have been a crushing violet, but Soren had always been an equal mix of both savage monster and civilized business man in a suit. "I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Adams."

"Don’t," I growled. "I know you did that to get back at Jericho."

He arched a black, perfect arched brow. "I do things because I want to, Adams. And I do find it insulting that I need an incentive to touch what is mine."

My lips pinched with shame at the heat that speared inside me at the word ’mine’. "I told you before. I am not an object you can stake claim to, to fuel your male pride. You don’t touch me like that to make or score points. You don’t disrespect me and manhandle me like property. I am not your property."

He tilted his head coyly. That playful hint returned to his eyes, but it was laced with a cruel darkness. "No?" he purred. "Come here."

My body jerked forward on the command, the need to be dominated striking through me like a chord.

It was the unbridled thing lurking on the surface. It demanded my submission, leaked possession from his pores.

It was terrifying.

And God help me, it was completely intoxicating. It pulled a helpless, breathless ache straight from the core of my stomach, reminding me of why I had been so helplessly fascinated by Soren when I first met him.

It was this feeling of falling, knowing he was the only one capable of making me take the plunge myself. This irresistible, insufferable, pull.

And I frowned, jerking to a stop as I found myself one horrifying inch away from crawling into his lap.

I jerked backward, breathing like I had run a marathon.

Soren smiled though, extremely pleased with my reaction.

He was toying with me, I realized.

Furious, I turned on my heel, agitated, as I stormed for the door. But just as my fingers took the doorknob, my wrist was wrenched back and I yelped when in one smooth shove, I was turned around, and my back hit the door.

Soren pressed against me, his eyes a crushing violet as they peered into my soul. "I do not need to put a mark on you to own you. These little games we play of cat and mouse..." He breathed in through his teeth. "It excites my obsession with you. But I bet you knew that, didn’t you?"

His other hand found my waist, trailing up my ribcage slowly. Reverently. "It doesn’t always have to be a struggle, love. I hate seeing you so... scared. Always so uncertain." He blinked, brows furrowing. "I can play nice. You like nice, don’t you?"

Instantly, he pulled back his aura, leaving in the stead of the crushing, domination, something warm and fuzzy.

My breath left me in a soft whoosh.

"You like that?" Soren asked,

I like whatever you do to me, I thought, then perished the thought instantly. But he might as well have heard it, because he nodded with a pleased hm.

And then, he tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear gently. "How..." He lowered his head. "...about..." His mouth found my ear. "...this?"

His canines clamped tight on my earlobe and I gasped, knees buckling under me, and my nails dug into his shoulders to keep myself upright. An undignified mewl came out of me.

It felt good. So damned good, when he drew sweetly on my ear I arched without meaning to, offering him my throat.

His mouth found the back of my ear and I wasn’t entirely breathing as he kissed a hot trail down my neck.

"Soren," I gasped upon feeling the sharp points of his teeth graze the place a mark would go. My insides clenched so hard I felt wetness trickle down my thigh.

But I pushed back with a hand to his chest.

I couldn’t bring myself to say stop, didn’t want him to, so I said, "Wait."

His head came up, and I was stunned how wide his eyes were. He let his forehead drop against my own.

"I’m sorry. I don’t know how to stay away from you. Can’t think when..." he tracked off, shaking his head. He ran his nose up and down my cheek, sniffing. "Too much?"

I nodded. It felt like my heart was beating too fast to catch up with my pumping blood.

"Slow, then." It was more a question than a suggestion. "We’ll go slow. You set the pace. I follow. I won’t bite, not unless you tell me to."

Relief flooded my body, and then guilt came through the gate instantly. And with it came panic.

I couldn’t do this--why couldn’t I do this? Why was I so scared? No. It wasn’t the fear stopping me this time. It was the guilt.

Could I have this? Did I get to have this when...

The thought of Lyon came. And it went, leaving behind a world of hurt. But hurt was all I’d known for a long time.

I could never truly move on, not until I’d fulfilled my promise to him. To myself. But... I wanted to care about someone. I wanted to love someone, and I didn’t want to be afraid to. I was tired of being afraid of everything. Tired of keeping it always bottled up inside. I was so miserable, so lonely, so empty.

I wanted to love. I wanted to be loved.

What, really, was life without that?

I couldn’t let the Queen and Tessa take anymore from me than they already had. I could have this.

One hand caught on the collar of Soren’s shirt, while the other reached out to touch the hair behind his ear. "Okay," I gasped, heart pounding. "Just... one kiss."

His fingers were warm on my jawline as he searched my face, weighing my words against my fragile acceptance. "Just one."

The first kiss a chaste touch of our lips. He captured my lower lip sweetly, pulling lightly but firmly. When I didn’t protest, he went for my upper lip, running his tongue along the seam.

The single action lit a fire inside me, awakening a ravenous hunger I hadn’t known I’d been keeping and bay.

But he pulled back almost immediately, and I stared at him, at a loss for words. My lips were tingling, my legs shaking.

We stared at each other.

One breath passed. And then, another.

My leg rose high off the floor, curling around his hip. "That doesn’t count," I said, and didn’t wait for his response before clasping his cheek and drawing his face to mine.