Big Bad Billionaire (The Woolven Secret Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Big Bad Billionaire (The Woolven Secret Book 1)
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Inhuman.

She shoved him as hard as she could and ran, ran toward the scent that offered her safety, protection. He told her
not
to go into the maze, so that’s where she headed.

Randi fled.

“Don’t run from me, Randi.” His voice was low, smooth, but it sounded like a threat nonetheless.

She didn’t stop.

“Oh Goddess, don’t run. Don’t—”

She heard something like a roar and she ran faster, spurred on by fear and adrenaline. She couldn’t process what was happening, but she knew he’d given chase. She couldn’t help but think he would run her down like a sick, little lamb. That’s why he’d called her a lamb. He was some kind of crazed serial killer. She’d been right in thinking he’d lured her out to the estate to get rid of her.

She knew he was right behind her and sensed there was nowhere she could turn, nowhere to hide; he would catch her. He would devour her whole.

Weapons
. He’d told her he kept weapons and cars in the garage. If she could just get there, she could hotwire one, make it back to the city and—another voice in her head spoke up. She’d decided to take on the devil in his den. Why run from him? If she wanted to crush him, she needed to turn and face him. Meet his attack head on with one of her own. He wouldn’t see that coming.

But she couldn’t get past her fear of what she’d seen in his eyes.

Randi decided she might be as sick and twisted as him because even though he’d terrified her, it turned her on, too. What would really happen if she turned and met his pursuit? Would he hurt her?

Or would it be the best sex of her life?

She kept running, branches from the shrubbery in the maze tearing at her skin, clawing at her clothes, but they didn’t stop her. She turned this way and that, surprised, but grateful she’d not run into a dead end.

Until she emerged in a clearing and saw the great, purple and black flower of which he’d spoken. It mesmerized her, all her fear shoved to the back of her mind—almost like she’d been drugged. The scent so sweet, so soothing—she ventured nearer.

The great bloom opened and snatched a night bird out of the air, those languorous petals tightening around its prey. She reached out a hand to touch it, and she found herself cut short, slammed into the ground by a giant.

He pinned her hands above her head. Even though she wanted to struggle, she found she couldn’t. Her will to even do so faded, melting under the heat of his body atop hers. She squeezed her eyes shut—afraid, aroused, and ashamed.

“Look at me.” His voice rumbled so deep, like the sound of steel on gravel.

She refused, pinching her eyes even more tightly closed. If she didn’t look, she couldn’t see.
Don’t look, don’t see
. The mantra played over and over in her head. One would think they meant the same thing, but they didn’t. You could look without seeing. She didn’t want to look or to see.

“Look at me.” His already deep voice dropped an octave, while the hard ridge of his arousal pressed into her thigh.

Randi was torn. Part of her wanted to get closer to it—him—almost like a biological imperative. Her survival instincts were almost as strong and they begged her to flee because he would be the end of her.

Even in the haze of lust, while swayed by the strange, hypnotic effect of the flower, she would not go gentle into that good night.

Her eyes flashed open.

And he was just Blake Woolven, the man she wanted and despised.

But still, only a man.

A man who’d lost his shirt since she’d last looked at him. She assumed that the brambles had torn it from him. She didn’t want to notice how hot his skin was against hers, the fluid way his muscles moved, or that she really wanted to know what it would feel like to have her naked breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest.

She also felt utterly stupid for running, until he said, “Don’t run from me, Randi. I like chasing you much too much.”

His statement was tinged with both need and a warning.

“You caught me,” she breathed.

“I did. I will always catch you if you run. Do you understand?”

She didn’t, but she nodded. “Get off of me.” Randi meant to push at his shoulders, to shift him away from her, but she ended up wrapping her arms around him, dragging him closer. Her limbs wouldn’t obey her.

“It’s the bloom.” He knew exactly what she was feeling, somehow.

“It’s diabolical,” she breathed.

“That it is, little lamb.”

She didn’t correct him, too busy trying not to feel the seductive scrape of his stubble along her skin while he dragged his cheek against hers, almost like he marked her with his scent.

Christ, why were people with money so weird?

Worse? Why did she like it?

Chapter Five

 

Blake Woolven hadn’t ever felt as alive as when he chased Randi through the maze.

He warned her not to run, and he couldn’t help but give chase. Her flight roused all the old instincts, the most basic of needs. His blood pumped like lava through his veins, he was on fire with the beginning of the Change, and his cock hung thick with need of her.

The bloom affected her just as he knew it would, which was why he’d told her not to go into the maze. It’d been designed for the chase, for capture, and for lulling human brides into a state of bliss and need so that when they saw their Woolven husbands shed their skins, they’d be too aroused to care. It ensured the continuation and diversification of the bloodline.

She’d most definitely use his want of her against him, but it pleased him that she wasn’t so unaffected. The staccato rhythm of her heart, the scent of her desire, and her hands moving down over his back…

He couldn’t wait until she clawed at him, crying out. He wanted to take her as a man, as a wolf—he wanted all of her.

But he wouldn’t do it while she remained under the influence of the bloom, as easy as it would be. As hot as they were together. He wanted her to be with him because she wanted it to, because she decided it—without any help from the dark flower.

She gasped and wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to get closer to him, to build the friction between them.

He was wired to give her what she wanted, to claim her, mark her.

To turn her.

If he could manage to give her relief, it would break the hold of the flower’s pheromones at least long enough to get them out of the maze, and to return Randi mostly to herself.

It would be no chore to bring her to bliss, to make her scream his name. The challenge would be not burying himself in her sweet heat when he was done. Not biting the soft flesh of her neck where his venom would change her, brand her…

So close to the full moon, he didn’t know if he could muster the control he needed.

When her little nails dug into his back, he knew he had to do something. He
could
control himself for her—she was his mate. This is what she required of him. His body and his wolf would obey.

He kissed her again and she arched into him, offering him anything he wanted. Blake pushed her skirt up around her hips, taking time to enjoy the silky feel of her thighs, drawing upward to cup her ass in his hands and grind her against him.

“Oh God, what are we doing?” she breathed.

He pulled back and slid down her body. “I’m going down, and you’re about to be coming.”

“I—”

Blake dipped his head between those thighs, pushed past her sensible cotton panties with his tongue to taste her. She was just as sweet as he thought she’d be.

He couldn’t wait to drape her body in silk and lace, only to rip them off her again. Like unwrapping a gift.

He eased one finger inside her and she gripped him, pulled him deeper. Goddess, but he couldn’t wait until she tugged at his cock, all wet and hot, needing. Demanding.

Blake moved his tongue at a leisurely pace, enjoying the taste of her, the feel of her, the way she filled up all of his senses until all he knew in the world was her. She was the beginning, the end, and everything in between.

“Please,” she begged him, a tinge of desperation to her voice.

He traced the seam of her, lapped and laved, all his movements designed to bring her the most heightened experience of pleasure.

She was so soft and wet, pliant as his tongue delved into her, her fingers pushed through his hair now, the tension in her hands intended to drive him nearer his task. He didn’t mind. He liked it when a woman told him what she wanted.

He especially liked it when
his
woman told him what she wanted.

Blake tasted her culmination even before he heard her cries of release. Her body shuddered in his grasp.

He was loathe to pull away because, when he did, the spell would be broken and he’d go back to being the devil in her eyes.

His cock ached and not just for any release, but for release with her—his mate. It hurt, but it was still good because this was for her. He’d denied himself to keep her safe, to protect her until she was ready.

The awestruck look on her face, her bee-stung lips, her wild tangle of hair—they all bespoke a job well done. He was satisfied with himself on that account.

Blake rose above her, knowing he could take her and it would be so good for both of them, but he also knew it wasn’t the right time. The look in her eyes pleaded, not for more, but for release of a different kind. Freedom from him to process all that had just happened.

He brushed his lips against hers, unwilling to let her go without a reminder of what had happened between them, the taste of her pleasure from his lips, her own salt on her tongue.

When he released her, she righted herself and scrambled to her feet—skittish. He could tell she would’ve fled, but she didn’t know how to get out of the maze.

“I’ll see you back to the house.”

“No, no and hell no.”

“What?” He supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised by her response, but he was. He’d never pleasured a woman so completely then had her deny him anything.

“You think we’re just going to walk back to the house like this didn’t happen? No, you get to tell me what the hell just happened.”

“If you don’t know, I think maybe someone was remiss in your education.” He couldn’t help the smirk that curved his lips any more than he could stop enjoying the taste of her that lingered there.

“Not funny. You know exactly what I mean.” She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“If you want to stand here and talk about it, it’ll happen again. The flower has a certain… effect.”

“Fine. Talk while we walk.” She grabbed his arm and he led her toward the exit.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. I hate you. You hate me. Yet you ran me down like a deer and…” She gestured as if she could pluck what she wanted to say from the space around her and give it breath.

“And you didn’t say no. You didn’t tell me to stop.”

She paled. “No. No, I didn’t.” They walked through several turns in silence. “What I meant was,
why
would you do that?”

“The answer to that question should be obvious. I wanted to.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “And do you do everything you want to do? You get everything you want?”

“Mostly.” He fought his instinct to touch her again. “Are you saying I did something to you that you
didn’t
want?”

Randi exhaled heavily. “No, I’m not saying that at all.”

“You’re saying you feel like you’ve already lost our game.”

Her head jerked up, and she studied him.

“I’d feel that way too. But you haven’t had all your plays, little lamb. The best part is still to come.” He leaned down, his lips so close to hers. “When I have you, you’ll be begging me to mount you, to take you, to
own
you. And you’ll fucking love it.”

She blushed. “That was just crude.”

“But no less true.” He grinned.

“Just because I like your body and you might happen to be good with your tongue, that doesn’t mean anything like this will ever happen again. I’m your employee, remember?”

“Things are more complicated than you know.”

“So tell me.”

She was open, receptive, but he had no way to prove anything to her. Anything he could tell her now, anything he could prove, well, he’d seen how she’d run from him at the first glimpse of his wolf.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t.” Her steps slowed as they neared the edge of the maze.

“If you asked to go home, I’d let you.”

“You can’t stop me.”

Oh, but he could and, if she stayed much longer, if things progressed farther, he’d never let her go. “Very often in this life, things are not what they seem.”

“Like you?”

“Yes,” he nodded solemnly. “Very much like me.”

“I can’t tell if you’re threatening me or flirting with me.” She laughed.

He found he liked the sound of it. He wanted her to do it again.

“Maybe a bit of both, but you like it. Don’t tell me that when I chased you, your blood wasn’t as hot as mine.”

“You really frightened me at first,” she confessed.

Her words startled him. “That’s a powerful weapon to give me, isn’t it? You shouldn’t tell the enemy the power they have over you.”

“Just like I shouldn’t tell him I’m coming.”

His cock was still very much at attention. “I didn’t need you to tell me. It was all over my mouth.”

She blushed again. “Bastard. You knew what I meant.” Randi looked away from him, almost shy.

He stopped walking again, knowing that as soon as they’d stepped past the borders of the maze, everything would change again. “Can’t you trust me just a little?”

“You know how you said it doesn’t work like that? It’s an all or nothing prospect, Woolven.”

He nodded. Blake hadn’t expected her to say yes and then they’d run off into the sunset together. But he’d had to ask. “If you need anything at all, my quarters when I’m in residence are in wing B.”

She smirked. “I half-expected you to tell me you’d be in the room next to mine.”

“I can arrange that.”

“No.” She rushed to add, “I’m fine where I am.”

Just like that, the spell broke as they emerged onto the grounds. He turned north and headed toward the wooded part of the estate.

“Where are you going?”

“There’s no point in tucking you safely into your room. We both know you’re not going to stay there.”

She laughed again. “And you don’t care?”

“Anything I have to hide, you won’t find until I want you to find it.”

“So sure of yourself.” She shook her head. “The arrogance.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe I just know my secrets.”

“It’s not very chivalrous, leaving me in alone in the dark. I seem to remember you saying something about manners? How, just because I don’t have them, it didn’t excuse you from proper conduct?” She cocked her head to the side.

“You are as safe wandering the dark at Aphelion as you would be under lock and key. Nothing that walks these grounds would dare touch you.”

“You say that like I should be on the lookout for monsters.”

“Maybe you should.” Because they looked for her. Especially his personal beast.

“And these monsters, do they all fear you? The great Blake Woolven?”

She obviously teased him, but he couldn’t leave it at that.

“I’m king of the monsters, Randi. But I thought you knew that.” He left her standing there, haloed in the moonlight and the remnants of her pleasure.

He ran toward the woods, toward the solace to be found in shedding his skin and running free into the darkness. The soft loamy earth beneath his paws, the sounds and scents of the night, they wiped his senses clean of her.

Blake couldn’t think about her anymore or he’d turn around and devour her, just like she wanted him to. He ran faster and faster. When he was sure he was out of sight of the main house, he let the wolf have sway.

A scarred old wolf, his fur dirty and sparse, met him halfway. The animal was covered in scars from battles fought and won, battles lost, and prices paid.

Warner always knew just what to do, and the scarred wolf had been his constant companion, his teacher, his friend.

He needed his guidance now more than ever.

Drew always joked that his idea of therapy was deer hunting with Warner. He admitted it in boardrooms and at cocktail parties, while the rest of the guests remained oblivious to the true nature of his statement.

They ran the property line, then farther out to cover the surrounding territory that was all Woolven land, whether the naturals knew it or not. They searched for signs of intruders, of strangers encroaching their territory. Of rogue wolves, or any sign of other factions.

And, tonight, they found one.

He recognized de la Luna scent, hastily and shoddily covered by natural wolf urine. The old trick worked about as often as it didn’t.

It smelled of a young wolf who bore the markers of an Alpha, but wasn’t quite ready yet. He stank of rage and fear.

They patrolled the grounds, finding where the scent stopped. It appeared one of the fences had been tampered with—cut, with a small device which still relayed the signal back to their security sensors.

Blake knew exactly what it was and what it did because Woolven Industries just applied for its patent.

He’d been wrong to assume Randi was safe simply because she was on the grounds.

He knew from the scent that wolf hadn’t gotten any further than the fencing, this was what he’d come to do, but an attack was imminent.

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