Wolf Pawn (Wolves of New York #2)

by Bella Jacobs

  Even without protection and with my promise to come deep inside her.

  And despite how damned wrong this is, the thought makes my cock thicken, proving I’m one sick bastard and making me wonder again if I really am the “good” brother.

  The only difference between Bane and me? I’m doing these shitty things to protect my people, not in a bid to rule the world.

  Still, I feel…monstrous.

  Monstrous, but still hard and dying to be buried balls deep in my little wolf, making her mine.

  “Wow. That’s really nice,” she says, the tip of her tongue slipping out to trace the seam of her lips as she sets her glass down. “Is there a hint of pineapple in there or am I crazy? I don’t have much experience with wine. Especially good wine. My parents and I would buy a box of the pink stuff to keep in the fridge in the summer and mull a red wine for Christmas, but that was about it.”

  “I’m no expert, either,” I say. “I asked Chef Mark to send up something white and not too sour that would pair well with the meal.”

  She smiles. “Well, he did a great job.” She glances down at the table and back up again with an arched brow. “Shall we? I starving, even though I ate half a bowl of leftover filling while I was waiting for the pie to bake.”

  “Of course. Enjoy.” I reach for the sterling silver dome covering my plate, though I doubt I’ll be able to stomach a single bite.

  In theory, eating a light dinner of grilled chicken and artichokes with crusty bread and olive oil while I waited for the drugs to hit Willow’s system sounded doable. In reality, there’s a serious chance I’ll vomit over the side of the railing if I try to force food down my throat.

  “So, are we sticking to small talk while we eat?” she asks, slicing into her chicken. “Or jumping straight to the big talk?”

  “Medium talk, perhaps?” I suggest, working my knife across the steaming, fragrant meat, taking my time cutting it into slices I don’t intend to eat. “I don’t small talk if I can help it.”

  “Small talk is the worst.” She nods as she takes a bite, doing a slow scan of the garden as she chews. Her eyes narrow as she focuses on something over my shoulder, and I know what she’s going to say before she swallows and asks, “Is that a bed over by the grape vines? Or are my eyes playing tricks on me?”

  “It’s a bed,” I say casually, proving I’m an excellent liar, even under duress. “I come out here sometimes when I’m having trouble sleeping. Being out under the stars helps quiet my thoughts.”

  “That sounds nice.” She reaches for her wine, taking another sip as my tongue tries to crawl down my throat. “I haven’t slept outside since I was a kid, back before Victor hated my family, and we were still welcome at pack camping trips.” She wrinkles her nose. “But I couldn’t really relax and enjoy it. Even back then. Pax and his friends were such bullies. They picked on all the girls and the smaller kids relentlessly.” Her hand falls to the collar of her dress, pulling it away from her throat as she takes a deeper breath and shifts in her chair.

  When her eyes meet mine again, there’s a glitter in them that wasn’t there before and a husky note in her voice as she adds, “But I bet it would be nice to sleep outside somewhere you felt safe.”

  Safe.

  I want to keep her safe. That’s what this is about. I’m not a monster; I’m a decent man who’s been forced into an impossible position.

  Suddenly I need her to know that. I need her to know how sorry I am before she’s too far gone to listen to anything I have to say.

  I reach out, taking her hand in mine and giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You are safe here. I won’t cast you out, Willow. That’s not on the table for me anymore. I will protect and defend you as long as I’m able. As long as I’m still Alpha of this pack.”

  Her eyes warm with affection I don’t deserve. “Thank you. I… That means a lot to me, Maxim. I just…” She trails off with a soft laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, sometimes I have a hard time focusing when you’re touching me.”

  “Even like this?” I brush my thumb gently back and forth over the soft skin on the back of her hand.

  “Y-yes.” She nods slowly, her lips parting and her breath coming faster. “B-but I can’t… I can’t be with you, Maxim.”

  “Sure, you can,” I murmur, torn between self-loathing and the hunger thickening the air. It’s always this way between us. Sexual awareness is always there, swimming just below the surface. This drug isn’t making her feel something she doesn’t already feel, it’s just eliminating her ability to control her reactions.

  That’s something, at least.

  Not much, but enough to silence the fretful voice in my head as I twine my fingers through hers. “I’ll make you feel good, little wolf. I promise. After tonight, you won’t remember any man has ever touched you before. You’ll just remember my hands and my mouth and my body making you ache and need and come so hard and sweet. I will give you only pleasure, only bliss.”

  Her breath rushes out and her forehead furrows. “That sounds… B-but I can’t. Not tonight, I…” She tries to pull her hand from mine but stops fighting almost instantly when I tighten my grip on her fingers. She bites her lip, moaning. “God, Maxim. I can’t think. Is it the fated mate bond or something? Is that why I’m so… God, I’m so…”

  “Turned on?” I supply, scooting my chair around the small table until our knees touch and our joined hands rest in her lap. “Is that what you’re feeling, little wolf?” I curl my free hand above her knee and squeeze, summoning another hungry sound from low in her throat.

  She squeezes her thighs together and squirms in her chair, sending a jolt of lust surging to my groin. The unconscious sign that she wants me between her legs would be intoxicating even if I couldn’t smell how wet she is. But I can smell it, and the salty-sweet smell of her slick pussy calls to my wolf, banishing the last of my indecision.

  My human side will likely feel like shit about this later, but right now my animal side needs to claim his mate, needs to feel her soft and hot under him while he plants his seed deep in her belly.

  “Maxim, p-please,” she says, shivering as I slide my hand higher on her thigh.

  “Please what?”

  “I don’t…” She exhales then sucks in a breath as my palms skims higher still.

  “But I think you do, little wolf.” I release her hand and curl my fingers around the back of her neck, pulling her head closer to mine. My lips are a whisper away from hers as I ask, “Can I carry you to that bed and make you mine?”

  “Yes, please, yes,” she says, and then her lips crash into mine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maxim

  We kiss hard and deep, our tongues sparring and stroking as I gather her into my arms and start across the patio.

  I drag the curtains surrounding the bed to one side and lay her down on the mattress, pulling back long enough to dispose of my clothes with swift, efficient motions. I’m back beside her less than ten seconds later, dragging her dress over her head as she runs her hands all over my body, making hungry, eager sounds that drive me fucking wild.

  “Need you. Need you so bad,” she whimpers, her cool fingers wrapping around my burning length, making me growl.

  “Going to give you everything you need, little wolf. Everything,” I promise as I make quick work of her bra, freeing her gorgeous breasts.

  They’re stunning, so full and heavy with dusky rose nipples that demand my attention, my worship. I bend my head, capturing one tight tip in my mouth and sucking as I rip her panties down her thighs and bring my fingers to her slick folds.

  “Fuck, Willow,” I groan against her breast as I feel how damned wet she is. “You’re dripping for me, baby.”

  “I’m dying,” she sobs, bucking eagerly into my hand as I rub my palm into the top of her mound, grinding against her clit. “It hurts, Maxim. I need you so much it hurts.”

  “What do you need, beautiful?” I kiss my way to her other breast an
d flick my tongue against its tight nipple, balls throbbing as she fists her hands in my hair. “Do you need my cock?”

  “Yes, oh, yes,” she whimpers, squirming beneath me as I shift on top of her.

  She wraps her legs around my hips, bringing the ridge of my erection to press against her heat. My head swims with desire. The need to shove inside her and ride her hard, to claim her, mark her with my come, is so intense it takes all of my willpower to hold back.

  I want her to orgasm first.

  I want her pussy even wetter and her body eager to accept my release.

  I reach down, gripping my cock and bringing my already leaking tip to her clit. “I’m going to give you what you need,” I promise as I circle her bundle of nerves, the feel of her slick sex against my sensitive tip making my heart race even faster. “But I need to watch you get off first. I need to see your pretty face flushed and wild as you come so fucking hard for me,” I say, cursing beneath my breath as her spine arches and her nails dig into my arms. “Yes, baby, fuck yes. That’s right, come for me. Come.”

  She cries out, her head falling back as her orgasm claims her. Her lips part and her nipples lift closer to my chest and the smell of the salty heat gushing between her legs destroys the last of my control.

  Blood rushing in my ears, I shift my cock to her entrance and thrust forward.

  I expect a tight fit—I’m long and thick, and so hard for her my dick is probably about as big around as her wrist right now—but I don’t expect the barrier. It takes me by surprise, so much so that there isn’t time to slow down. I feel it one second and I’m through it the next, sinking deeper as Willow tenses and cries out in pain.

  Eyes wide, I jerk my attention to her flushed face.

  “Hurts,” she pants, wincing as she shifts her hips, taking me even deeper. “God, Maxim, it hurts, but I need more. I still need more. Please, give me more.”

  Jaw clenching, I grab her hands, pinning them into the mattress over her head. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  “Please,” she whimpers, wiggling beneath me. “Please.”

  “What really happened with Pax?” I demand, rage and confusion warring with the need to keep riding her, to shove in and out of her dripping pussy until the hunger clawing away beneath my skin is gone and I can think again. “Was any of that true? Were you even paired with him?”

  She cries out, her squirming becoming frantic now.

  Thanks to the drugs I slipped into her drink, I won’t be getting any answers from Willow until the Hunger’s out of her system. And the fastest way to make that happen is to get her off.

  Surrendering to the fire raging between us, I drop one hand to squeeze her ass and crush my lips to hers, kissing her hard as I shift forward, bringing my pubic bone to press against her clit. “I’m going to give you what you need,” I promise against her lips as I shift my hips slowly back and forth, grinding against the top of her mound while my cock is still buried deep inside her. “And then you’re going to tell me everything I want to know. And then I’ll decide what to do with a lying little wolf.”

  “Just, please, there,” she says, trembling as she wraps her legs around my hips. “Right there. God, Maxim, I feel you everywhere. All I feel is you.”

  And all I feel is her.

  Her wet pussy gripping my cock, her addictive scent swirling through my head, her lips so sweet and hot beneath mine as I take her closer, closer, until she’s panting and rocking into me and her inner walls tighten around my throbbing length. I need to move, to fuck, so badly it’s making me crazy, but I force myself to keep rolling into her clit until she’s panting, begging, clawing at my back as she reaches the razor’s edge.

  And then she tumbles over, coming with a cry as her pussy spasms around my cock. With a roar of relief, I brace my hands on either side of her face and let go of the reins. I piston in and out of her, slamming into her clutching sheath, giving her everything—my anger and confusion and every last bit of my need.

  I have never needed anyone or anything the way I need this woman. I need to bed her, breed her, dominate her until she realizes I am her Alpha. I am her mate, her man, and this pussy is mine from tonight until her last night.

  Mine to fuck. Mine to fill. Mine to—

  “Mine,” I shout as I come, my dick jerking deep inside her. I shove forward even more, sucking in air as my orgasm ripples through me, sharp and wickedly sweet.

  But not as sweet as knowing every bit of come spilling from my cock is shooting out at the entrance to her womb.

  “You’re mine,” I pant as I grip her hips, holding her in place as I empty the last of myself inside her. “And this baby I’m putting in you is mine. And if you lie to me again, I will lock you up and throw away the key, and the only time you will have sunlight or food or touch is when I come to your cage to fuck you. To remind you who you fucking belong to, do you hear me, little wolf?”

  She moans and shudders but doesn’t open her eyes.

  I pull out, lip curling as I see the blood mixing with her juices on my cock. I’m so damned angry but also…happy?

  No, not happy, I’m too pissed off to be happy. I’m…satisfied, some primal part of me viciously pleased that I’m the only man who’s ever been inside my mate, the only man who will ever be inside her.

  I want to strangle her right now, but I also want to put a collar on her neck and drag her with me everywhere I go so she will always be close and ready to mount. I’m going to crave her body like nothing else, until the day they put me in the damned ground.

  And that pisses me off, too.

  “Get dressed.” I pull on my clothes beside the bed with rough jerks of my arms. “I’ll send Hermione up to take you back to your room.”

  “No,” she whispers, her eyes still closed. “I don’t want her to see me. Just send a guard. Any guard.”

  “Fine,” I snap, stalking across the patio.

  I pass our dinner, then stop and turn back, grabbing her glass of wine and tossing the contents over the edge of the railing before slamming it back onto the table. It doesn’t shatter, and for a moment I’m tempted to hurl it onto the paving stones just to hear the satisfying smash of the glass.

  But my staff have enough on their hands without cleaning up unnecessary messes.

  Unnecessary messes…

  Necessary messes…

  Who the fuck knows what tonight is? I only know that as I bring my ring to the sensor by the elevator and punch the down button, I can’t bring myself to look back at that damned bed.

  I can’t look back and I have no idea how we move forward from here.

  Hopefully, she’s pregnant, and I can tuck her away in a guarded room for nine months while I take care of other business.

  Nine months might be enough to get my head on straight where Willow is concerned.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maxim

  I wait until I’m in my apartment and have the water running for a shower before I call Hermione and tell her to send a guard to take Willow back to her rooms. Willow won’t be able to summon the elevator on her own—that floor can only be accessed with a special key card or my ring—so there’s no rush.

  It’s probably best to let her sober up for a while, in fact.

  “Give her an hour,” I tell Hermione. “And then send someone. Someone female,” I add, not wanting another man to smell my little wolf’s addictive post-sex scent. “And tell Willow to be ready for a meeting by seven a.m. tomorrow. I need to get some answers once she’s in her right mind.”

  “Why isn’t she in her right mind now? If I may ask?” Hermione says, a cautious note in her voice.

  “We had some wine,” I say. It’s close enough to the truth. “And a disagreement and that’s all I have to say about it. Any word from the scouts?”

  “Not yet,” she says, “but I’m by the phone. I expect to hear from them tonight or first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Keep me posted. Call a
s soon as you have information. I won’t be sleeping.”

  “You should,” she says. “You need rest. Sleep and I’ll wake you as soon as I have news.”

  “I’ll try,” I grumble, but I don’t expect sleep to come easy tonight.

  I shower, doing my best not to think of Willow as I wash her scent off my skin. Then I change into a pair of thick cotton pajamas pants and a T-shirt and settle at the couch with my tablet to read the transcript of Christopher’s interview with one of my chief enforcers earlier today.

  But there’s nothing new in the file and shockingly I find my head nodding toward my chest before I’ve finished the last page.

  Setting the tablet aside, I rub the tops of my closed eyes.

  I’m exhausted, but strangely my thoughts aren’t racing. As much as what happened with Willow stirred up questions and fresh frustration, it also…eased my mind.

  And my body.

  She’s mine now and her lies soothed my guilt over how we ended up in bed together in the first place.

  When I lie down to rest my eyes for a few minutes, just to see if sleep might be possible, I’m out in seconds.

  I don’t wake until Hermione calls at six a.m. the next morning to tell me she still hasn’t heard back from the scouts and is headed to her apartment to grab a nap before the morning meeting at eight.

  I tell her to skip it, rest up, and that I’ll call her if I need her. Then I go to get dressed. By seven, I’m walking down the hallway toward Diana’s apartment, plotting what to say to Willow, grateful I only have a few minutes to spare with her before I need to head downstairs to prep for the meeting.

  I’m not ready to be around her for any sustained amount of time just yet.

  The betrayal of last night is too fresh and the lure of her body is too strong. I’m going to want to have her again this morning, there’s no doubt in my mind—just thinking about it is enough to make my cock twitch in my pants.