Page 45 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

“I don’t think you do. You have no idea how to handle a man like me.”

She sneered right into his face. “Seriously? Because you’re a wolf? I’m a wolf too, or did you forget? You’re the one who likes to keep proving to me that I’m as fucked up as you are when it comes to what my body wants. You’re the one who came to my doorstep, half undone. If you’re looking to use me and discard me, then do it. I don’t think it’s going to work, but if that’s what you want, I’m ready to give it to you.”

“There is no scenario in which I don’t hurt you. There is no happy ending coming.”

“I think you’d feel pretty good with my lips wrapped around your cock. If that’s the only happy ending we can have, I’d still take it. Maybe I want you to hurt me.” She angled her face to the desk. “You clearly had plans to do just that, or was that all for show? And the hurting thing? You already have. Multiple times, starting with that contract. You don’t care. You’re not sorry.”

“No. I’m not sorry. That’s the kind of man I am.”

“I know. I don’t care.”

“I take what I want.”

“You haven’t, though,” she whispered. Not because she was losing her courage, but because she didn’t want to provoke a rabid beast too hard and too fast. “Commanding isn’t claiming. Maybe if we fucked, it would fix the broken parts of us. You obviously know you have an infinite amount. I didn’t know I had any. Obviously, I do. Broken or not, maybe it would just feel good.”

“It’s not in the contract.”

She knew he’d circle back around to that. “Rip it up. Amend it. Do it on a non-contracted night.”

“Seren.”

“No, seriously. I’m not the mushy romantic type.”

He was the beautifully heartbroken type, so tragic that she could have wept for him.

“That’s fucking obvious. It should be painfully obvious that I’m not either.”

“The modern notion of storybook romance is overrated.”

“You don’t need to tell me that. Your cunt told me that from the very second you creamed those white panties because you crave degradation. You want to be mastered. You’re filthy. Not just your sweet little pussy, but the rest of you too. You don’t want someone to worship you. You don’t want someone who plays nice. You want the darkness, you want the filth. You want the alpha in every way. You want to be told what to do. You want to be taken and bent and reformed. You want to be bought and watched. You want to be filmed. You want the one thing you can’t have, darling wolf, the one thing you were never supposed to have just because it’s forbidden. It was my name you chanted when you came with that toy deep inside you. You lost yourself, but you haven’t surrendered. You want so much more than you can give yourself. That’s why you’re here, begging me to make you my slut, to lick your pussy, to give you my cock, to fill all your empty, aching holes.”

The language was crude, but she knew he was being purposely crass. He was taking her to her limits. If she couldn’t handle a few words and an arrogant look, she’d never be able to handle any of him. He was protecting her again by pushing her away.

Well, she hadn’t expected him to be convinced by words alone.

She backed up and hoisted herself up on the edge of the desk. She spread her legs. The skirt was long, but had two slits up both thighs. She took the hem in her hands and slowly worked it up, exposing every inch of her boots, her calves, her knees, her thighs, all her ink. She kept going, lifting all that velvet, gathering it in both hands, until she reached the end.

She’d come, not sure if she could truly do what she needed to do, but she’d done most of it. She broke one of her own rules and exposed herself fully to him. She hadn’t worn any panties. Let him see what he did to her. Let him see how she was already glistening and slick and needy.

It might be visceral and dirty, but so what? Shame was a contrived notion. Whatever was between them, that was real. She felt it down to her bones. Wrong? They were so far past wrong.

“Yes, Rome,” she whispered, seared down to the blood and sinew and marrow of herself at the way his eyes shot straight to her parted legs. Her throat was raw with the same feral ache that tore through the rest of her. “I want you to lick my pussy, give me your cock, and fill all my empty, aching holes.”

Chapter 16

Rome

He was fucked, but not the same way he’d fucked up just about everything else in his life. It was different. He was feeling, wanting, desiring, thinking. He was unable to stop or block out those emotions and sensations.

Seren was so goddamn breathtaking on the edge of the desk, her pussy naked and glistening for him. He wanted her. He was going to have her. He was brutally hard. He couldn’t think past the overwhelming need to possess Seren. To turn her around, bend her over that desk, and punish he fuck out of her for taking control.

He was going to have her, or she was going to have him. He was now the one at the disadvantage.

“You say you don’t want to touch me.” Seren’s voice was different.

Everything about her was different.

He’d blended in with the world. He’d hidden the part of himself that was wolf now and before, mostly from his family, he’d throttled back the true nature of his being. He was good at being something other than what he was, but he could only be himself in his own office with this woman who he was supposed to own and purge and forget. He couldn’t hide his astonishment that she had come here, premeditated this, and had so easily worn him down. He wasn’t the one giving orders, and that astounded him.

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