8. Oliver

This closet is tiny, barely more than the width of the door opposite, which is, of course, locked. I inhale and lean back against the shelves, trying to put a couple of extra inches between us, but my wolf is straining to close the space between her lips and mine.

We want her. We swore we wouldn”t. We can”t.

I groan inwardly, but she looks up at the sound.

”We can”t just stand here nose to nose. Can we?” I say. “We can’t even stretch out on the floor.”

She puts her arms on my shoulders and doesn”t flinch when I reach my hands up to rest on her waist. ”There,” she says, ”We”ll just pretend we”re dancing.”

I laugh at that. This woman always has a solution. She sways slightly, grinning and humming a tune I’ve heard all over social media.

”I think I know that one.” I sway with her a little, but what was meant to be a distraction only makes me more aware of the feel of her hips beneath the silk of her dress, the lightness of her fingers just brushing the back of my neck.

The darkness wraps around us like a thick blanket, muffling the world outside this cramped storage closet. I can feel every curve of Sophia”s body pressed against mine, the heat of her skin seeping through our clothes. My arms instinctively encircle her waist, steadying her as we stand chest to chest, barely an inch between us.

My heart pounds in my ears, a primal rhythm that echoes the stirring of my Lycan nature. Sophia”s scent fills my nostrils like a love potion, uniquely her. It takes every ounce of my control not to bury my face in the crook of her neck and inhale.

In the darkness, I lift her hand from my shoulder and intertwine our fingers. ”What are we going to do…about what”s happening between us?” I murmur, my voice a low rumble in the confined space. Something inside me wants to confess all of my past transgressions, hoping that tossing them away will clear a path to her. I”ve used countless women to fill the void inside, but her touch connects to something inside that wants to blossom not consume.

“We are going to do nothing. Nothing is happening, and I will swear that on my deathbed, which hopefully won’t be tonight. Not that there’s a bed,” she says.

”What”s happening may not be our choice,” I say, my breath warm against her ear.

Ollie, she is forbidden fruit—you said so yourself. You can’t have her.

Sophia meets my gaze, her eyes reflecting a tumult of emotions. ”Oliver, I know about the paranormal community”s belief in fated mates, but...” her voice trails off, skepticism and longing warring in her tone. ”I”m one hundred percent human. Not a hint of magic either. And you are my boss, remember that?”

”Those are just details. Fate doesn’t care,” I say, feeling my wolf rise within me with agreement.

”Which details are you talking about? The Gala? My career. Your family legacy? You think I”m going to throw everything away…for passion?”

”Then trust my wolf. He doesn”t lie,” I say, allowing my Lycan traits to surface, my eyes glowing amber in the darkness and my canines elongating. Cupping her face gently, I lean in, my lips finding the tender skin of her neck. She gasps, the sound piercing the tension between us.

At that moment, my resistance to my fate crumbles. The force drawing me to Sophia is far greater than my wolfish nature—an undeniable bond, a connection I”ve never experienced before. As she surrenders to the sensation, her initial hesitation gets washed away by the tide of passion my touch ignites; I realize that this is more than just physical attraction.

”We can”t,” she says. ”I can”t. I saw what happened to Rebecca.”

I cringe at the mention of her name. ”I know you won”t believe it, but I made no promises to her. She worked for Irene, not me. Yes, we played around. But what she said in the conference room wasn”t entirely true. But I didn”t want to make a scene.”

”But you did,” Sophia murmurs, her cocoa-brown eyes looking deep into my amber ones.

With my wolf out, I can see more clearly in the dim light and hear the quick beat of her heart.

”I”ve never made a scene,” she says, going a little rigid. “Not like that. I”ve been very deliberate my whole life, the good child? Deliberately good.”

The low purr comes from somewhere deep inside me, a voice I’ve never actually had to use to seduce any woman. I meant what I said…what’s happening may not be entirely our choice. ”It”s very hard to be good when other family members don’t bother. I should know.” I run a thumb across the silkiness of her cheek, and she shudders, pulling my hand away, but she doesn’t let go.

We both know where this is going, but prolonging the waiting seems to bring greater pleasure.

My heart races as Sophia”s body presses against mine in the cramped darkness. The scent of her perfume, the softness of her skin, the way her breath hitches when I lean in closer—all driving me wild. I”ve been with countless women, but none have ever made me feel like this—like I”m on the edge of losing control.

”I said some stupid things back there,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “You had every right to give me a piece of your mind. I deserved it.” The words hang heavy between us, weighted with unspoken emotions. Sophia shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position, and her elbow accidentally jabs into my chest.

”Ouch,” I chuckle, rubbing the spot. ”That”s going to leave a mark.”

She laughs, the sound bright and warm in the confined space. ”Well, that”s what happens when you trap a lady in a closet, Lord Faulkner.”

Her playful retort eases the tension, and I find myself grinning.

I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. My fingers linger on her cheek, savoring the contact. ”Sophia, I….” I trail off, struggling to find the right words. ”I know this is complicated. I know I haven”t exactly been a model boss.”

“However, I’ve been a model employee,” she says with a smile. “Except when the Baroness wanted to play water basketball, I had to draw a line. I’m sorry about that.”

I smile, but the sensations I’m getting from her feel very serious.

She stares up at me, eyes blindly searching for the flames in mine. I can see the conflict on her face—the desire warring with doubt, the longing tempered by caution.

”Oliver, I...” She hesitates, biting her lower lip. ”I want to believe you’re sincere. At least we could be friends. Professional friends?”

The air between us is charged, the proximity of our bodies, the heat of our breath mingling in the scant space. It all feels like the prelude to something inevitable.

“No, I don’t think this is a friends thing we’ve got going on. And I think you know it, too.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“But you want to anyway?”

“Yes. I do.” She tilts her head back and raises her lips to mine, and we are lost.

Our lips touch, warm and soft, and then my tongue slides against her plump bottom lip. She gasps into my mouth as I taste her like a fine wine. Sophia”s hands curl around my neck, and I take it as a go-ahead to slide my arm tighter around her trim waist, cupping her tight ass with my hand as I pull her core to nestle against my rapidly hardening cock.

I groan and kiss her hard—pushing her to the wall, my tongue sliding inside her mouth, my teeth nipping at her lower lip. She responds with a whimper, her body molding to my own with a primal desire I didn”t know she possessed. Something about the darkness, the forbidden nature of our touch, ignites her fire…and mine.

“We shouldn’t do this. I know better,” I say into her neck.

“I agree absolutely,” she says, as she pulls my hips to hers.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” I say back, barely able to speak.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, forcing my mouth harder to hers, her tongue swirling against my teeth, caressing my canines. Our breath grows ragged, hot and frantic as the kiss invigorates us. It”s a dangerous dance now, no longer a little joke. I want to take her, but I feel, just beneath the surface, a small layer of fear and resistance.

”Ms. Carter, now is the time,” I whisper, ”Say stop if you want to stop.”

”Oh, Lord Faulkner,” she whispers between kisses. ”If you stop, I will kill you.”

The skin on her arms is satin. Every inch of our bodies is pressed together, and the sensation is rough, heated, sweet, and joyous.

I grind into her, feeling the swelling of my cock against the thin fabric of her dress. I can”t help myself as I angle my hips forward, seeking entrance into the core of her. But I won”t, not yet. She”s not convinced we belong together. It”s my job to make sure she understands what she”s getting.

One hand buried in her hair, I slide my other hand up to cup her breast. She”s not wearing a bra, so her nipples harden into small peaks at my touch as my thumb swirls and teases them, and she shivers as though each touch were an electric shock. She trembles as I capture a nipple gently, pinching it just so. She arches back against the wall, moaning.

”More.” It”s a plea and a command.

My kiss moves to her neck, feeling the pulse of her blood in her veins, smelling the delicious copper and iron that flows through her, that makes her alive. The sweet taste of her skin makes my mouth water.

I reach around her, under her dress and grab her lovely round ass, pulling her dress up around her hips. The musky, sweet scent of her desire fills my nose—as the animal buried within me goes suddenly feral, needy and driving me wild.

Bending my knees, I lift her delicate frame in my hands. Wrapping her legs around my waist. I slip one claw under the thin lace of her thong and flick it away, leaving nothing between her core and my cock now but time.

Her ass is now exposed, two perfect globes I hold in either hand. Deepening our kiss, an almighty push-pull of energy rips through me. With a growl, I press my claws lightly to the soft flesh, sinking them in just deeply enough to draw a gasp but not blood.

Her shock is replaced by pleasure. She whimpers softly, ”Fuck. This is a terrible idea.”

“Stop?”

“Go!”

Her answer drives me onward. My hips pulse to match hers, seeking the heat she gives, seeking the release we both need.

I pin her against the wall, clasping her hands over her head with one clawed hand, kissing any hesitation away. ”Don”t move, unless you can”t help it.”

Then I slide the other hand down, feeling with one finger the wetness of her core.

My wolf rears inside, growling for me to take her completely. But I resist and gently, reverently, part her folds. I dip my finger into her, slickness covering my fingertip and she gasps once more when I brush her g-spot. It”s like I”ve found the trigger for a waterfall, the gasp betraying her body”s unfamiliarity with the kind of sensations a wolf”s passions bring.

I delve one finger inside, feeling the wet heat surround me, and begin to press and stroke, finding her rhythm. Sophia bites her lower lip, trying to stifle her groans of pleasure, but her hips undulating against me don”t lie. Slowly but surely, I find the rhythm she wants, murmuring nonsense to her as we sway against the wall, unable to move anywhere else in this confined space.

She tastes like sun-warmed honey beneath my tongue. I kiss the crook of her shoulder while my teeth nip at the tender skin. Her scent blooms and changes. I take notice, my Lycan nature panting for more.

I let my teeth scrape the crook of her neck, then soothe it with my tongue, sensing her surrender as she whimpers and moans my name between kisses. Sophia feels like warm velvet under my tongue, and I trail kisses down her shoulders, nipping and tasting the silk of her dress.

”You smell like perfection,” I whisper against her shoulder.

Her scent intensifies to the point of distraction as I continue fingering her, her juices coating each stroke. I slip another finger inside, feeling the resistance give way. Deeper and deeper, I push, grinning as I swirl my thumb over her clit, feeling it begin to pulse in response. Just a little more.

Her head hangs back on a moan, fingers digging into my shoulders as she peaks. I listen to her breathing, the intoxicating mix of arousal and fear. It”s all mine, claws digging her skin, demanding this release.

With my mouth anchored to her neck but teeth withdrawn, I push that last button, feeling the rush of pleasure consume her. The only sounds in the room are our pants—mine a low growl, hers, small whimpers that turn to screams.

With a final sigh, she cums against my fingers, her neck arching to meet my bites and kisses. My teeth graze her neck as my hips jerk forward. I”m ready, my cock aching for the connection as she goes liquid on my hand.

”Are you ready?” I ask, knowing she is, feeling how her body is begging for this last moment of completion, scenting that she has one more crest of desire that is all for me.

I unbuckle my belt and release my aching cock, and she wraps her legs around my waist like a vise, sliding her core down onto it in one smooth move.

I”m the one staggered by pleasure now.

I can”t get enough of her. Her scent, her taste, the way she moans my name as I drive into her, fucking her against the wall as though it”s our last night on Earth. My wolf growls in approval, his primal need to claim her and mark her as ours surging through me. But I know better than to push too far too soon. We”re already breaking all the rules.

But gods, I do not care.

Her nails dig into my back as she slams down on me, meeting each thrust with a feral moan that sets my blood on fire. Her wet core envelops me like a vice, squeezing and milking me toward the edge of sanity itself. She”s so damn tight and wet for me, and I know at that moment that I want this for the rest of my life.

But I can”t think about that now—not when she”s trembling in my arms, on the brink of shattering into a million pieces. My fingers dig into the wall above us as I hold back my own release, trying to prolong this moment forever. Her screams are music to my ears, echoing off the walls of this secret room where we shouldn”t be doing this at all, but damn if it doesn”t feel right.

I pick up the pace, thrusting into her, giving into my primal needs. Her pussy clenches around me like a vice grip as she cums again with a strangled cry that sets my wolf howling inside me—mine!

Mate! Mate! Mine!

I kiss her mouth to muffle her cries as she comes undone around me—a searing white-hot orgasm that leaves us both panting

The blooming warmth is too much, my wolf begins demanding release with every stroke. So I dig my claws in, growling with the effort to hold back. A shock wave runs through me as I feel how right she is, how perfect. My wolf whimpers with hunger, knowing he”s found the one.

Her body continues to clench in pleasure under mine, pulsing around my cock as I slam into her, the force of each thrust leaving me gasping until finally, I go over the edge, my muscles seized with both pain and pleasure, my entire body filled with the ecstatic release only one who is to be my mate can provide.

She laughs against my chest, still trembling, her breath hot against my skin.

I kiss the top of her head, feeling the world spin around me. ”Sophia,” I murmur.

My cock is still hard inside her, pulsating with unspent desire until finally, I come back to my senses.

She pushes back against my shoulders, forcing me to slip out of her.

”Well that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she says. “I guess this means I”m fired.”

”We don’t have to tell anyone. This can be our secret.” I know it’s impossible, even as I say it.

”That”s what you said had to happen--for us to happen.” She pushes away from me, picking up her torn thong with a grimace and tossing it into a bucket of rags. She pulls down her dress and stands as far away from me as she can, which is about three inches.

I groan, fighting to regain control of myself after the best fuck of my life.

”I…I don”t know. We can just….” I falter for the right words.

”Pretend it didn”t happen?” She stares at me defiantly.

”That”s not what I was going to say,” I reply, tucking my shirt in. ”We can work through things together. We should talk about what to do.”

“I wish I could say it was great working with you, but honestly, it wasn’t,” she says.

“Are you always this honest?” I ask, buckling my belt. “You have an idea about what we should do?”

She presses a hand against my chest and looks up into my eyes, the pain in them becoming humiliation. ”I’ll tell you what we should do,” Sophia whispers, her gaze dropping to the floor. ”We should probably focus on getting out of here. Check your phone?”

When the moment came over us, I forgot to check. ”Bars! I”ve got bars!” This didn’t have to happen. At least not here. Not now.

Sophia smiles wanly. “Perfect timing.”

I dial up Armand. ”Hey, where are you? We”re stuck…in a janitor”s closet, in a basement somewhere. If I knew exactly where I”d tell you. Find somebody to help. I don”t know—send a mage, send a fireman. Just get us out of here.”

Sophia sighs. ”Oliver, we can’t tell anyone. Nobody. No one can even suspect. This didn’t happen. Do you understand? There’s too much on the line for both of us. I will resign after the Gala. I don’t plan on creating a scene. I promise.”

I don”t answer, my mind working furiously—trying to figure out how apologizing can get me out of this one—then realizing, I don’t want to ever apologize for this. All I want…is more.