Wolf Bait (Wolf Cove #1) (20 page)

“You’re going to give me your virgin pussy, aren’t you.” It’s not so much a question.

“Yes.” I want this man to have it. I want him to teach me everything he knows.

“Good. Take a deep breath for me, Abbi.”

I do, and he angles his hand, pushing his fingers in. I wince with the sudden pinch. It’s not unbearable, but it’s certainly uncomfortable.

It finally dawns on me what Henry did.

“You’ll thank me for doing that now instead of later.” He stills his hand as my body adjusts to having two fingers inside me, but his thumb keeps working small circles around my clit, rubbing with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Does that mean—”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. You’re still a virgin. For now.” I turn my face to meet his, his chin settled on my shoulder. His mouth kicks up in a sexy smirk, but his eyes don’t shift, locked on what his hand is doing between my legs.

I need to feel his mouth pressed against mine, his tongue slipping against mine, so badly. He hasn’t made a move to kiss me yet, though. There’s no point hesitating anymore. I lean in and coast my lips over the corner of his mouth. His eyes snap to mine and then my mouth, his hand stilling, and I’m afraid I’ve done something wrong.

“Please?” I whisper.

With his free hand, he seizes the back of my head, fisting my hair and angling my head back to give his mouth full access. He takes it aggressively, his tongue invading my mouth, the taste of him overwhelming my senses.

Kissing is one thing I’ve had a lot of practice at, and yet this kiss...

I can’t handle the expertise with which he so quickly and so completely consumes me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth with abandon. It’s nearly more erotic than what he’s doing with his hand down below, and both things happening simultaneously is more than I can handle at once. I pull back from him slightly, sliding my tongue over the seam of his lips in a teasing manner as well as a silent plea that he guide me rather than dominate me.

It seems to work.

“Fuck, your mouth tastes sweet,” he whispers, and suddenly I’m shifting in his powerful arms. My back hits the mattress and his hard, fully clothed body is pressed against my side, my head resting on one of his arms, his hand roaming my naked flesh. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

My heart jumps in my chest at the thought of his lips down
there
. But that’s not happening now, I guess, because his mouth is back on mine and his hand begins its rhythmic motion, his fingers pumping in and out of me once again now that the pain has abated.

“Have you ever come before?”

I hesitate and it makes him growl.

“I’m going to know every square inch of your body
very
soon, Abbi. There’s no point hiding anything from me anymore. So tell me, have you orgasmed before?”

“Yes.” It comes out as a squeak.

He leaves my lips to peer down at me. “By touching yourself?”

I flush, but I can’t truly be ashamed right now, not with his hand inside me. “Obviously.”

He smirks. “Thinking of me?”

I nod. “That night that I saw Katie and Rachel... you know.”

“You enjoyed watching that, didn’t you?”

I purse my lips to hide my embarrassed smile. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s nothing like being with you.”

His fingers curl to find a sensitive spot deep inside and against my belly. He begins rubbing it, all while his thumb keeps working against my clit.

A strange mewling sound escapes my throat as pressure quickly builds inside me. I can feel the strange tingling in my spine that tells me my orgasm isn’t far behind. “What are you doing?” I pant and writhe against his hand, feeling drips of moisture running out of my body and down along my skin. I didn’t think it was possible to be this wet.

“I’m making you come.”

I’ve been hesitant to touch him, but now I reach up to grasp the back of his head and pull him in to my mouth, my fingers weaving through that thick mane of hair that I dreamed about doing this to. It’s even more exquisite than I imagined. My other hand grips his arms, my fingers stretching over the strain in his triceps. I tease inside his lips with the tip of my tongue, earning a deep growl and his mouth pressed hard against mine, his tongue slipping over mine, our saliva pooling and mixing together.

When I finally orgasm, it’s from a depth I never knew possible, my entire body convulsing, my screams neither quiet nor shy. Henry’s skilled hand doesn’t still, dragging every last muscle spasm out in waves until I’m left boneless, my legs splayed to either side, my energy drained. “I’ve never come like that before,” I whisper.

He slips his fingers out of me and stands. I watch him peel off his dress shirt and t-shirt, and toss them to the dresser. I don’t think I could ever get enough of his hard, muscular chest, his skin smooth and tan, his nipples tight.

“Sit up,” he commands, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his pants. His knuckles skate across my lips “I can’t meet people with a raging hard-on.”

He wants a blow job.
I shyly reach up to push the wool material of his pants away, my palm grazing against the prominent erection beneath his cotton briefs. It jumps in response. I don’t know how to do this.

“I have complete faith in you,” he whispers, as if he can read my mind. “Start by pulling it out.”

I gingerly push his pants down to his knees and then gently curl my fingertips around the elastic of his boxer briefs, tugging them down, stretching them around his front. His cock emerges, a long, thick rod, angled perfectly toward me.

I never expected to think of a cock as a beautiful thing, but Henry’s can only be described as such. It’s a healthy pinkish-purple, and smooth, the tip soft. I don’t know how my body will ever stretch to fit it inside me, but the pulsing sensation in my belly—only minutes after that mind-blowing orgasm—tells me I’m desperate to find out.

“It’s so big.” I sound like a silly girl when I say that, but it’s true. It was sizeable when I saw him in the shower, across the room. Now it’s literally staring me right in the face.

He smirks, waiting, his eyes blazing with heat and anticipation.

I wrap my hand around the bottom of it, my fingertips barely meeting. I imitate what I watched Henry do to himself, sliding my fist up and down along its length, enthralled with how silky and impossibly hard it feels.

“Exactly like that. Tighter.” I squeeze him and then look up to find him staring at me through hooded eyes, his lips parted. I lean forward and trace the tip of him with my tongue, where the bead of moisture sits on the end, tasting the saltiness.

“Do that again, but look up at me this time,” he demands, his voice turning husky.

I lean in and lick him again, my eyes never leaving his, earning his appreciative smile. He mouths “again,” and I do it again, only this time I take my time, twirling my tongue around his tip. I open my mouth wider and run it along the entire underside.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He curls his large hand around the back of my head and pulls me to him. I open wide to give him access to my mouth, hoping I’m doing it right as I close my lips over it. “Suck,” he commands and I do, feeling a gentle pull against my hair, his silent instruction for me to mimic my hand earlier. I grip his base tightly and slide my mouth up and down as far as I can go, which is surprisingly farther than I thought.

His grasp of my hair tightens and his hips begin to thrust.

“You have a pretty little mouth, Abbi. It’s so warm and wet and tight. Perfect for fucking.”

His words are so filthy and his cock is in my mouth and I can’t believe I’m doing this. And enjoying it immensely.

My mouth strains to fit him all over and over again, bits of drool escaping around the rim, but I don’t stop sucking on him. Sometimes my teeth scrape, but he only moans when that happens, so I think he’s okay with it.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, naked and with Henry’s cock pumping in and out of my mouth, my lips swollen, heady desire is building in my body again. While a little sore, I’m already desperate to spread my legs for his fingers—and more—to plunge inside me again.

“I’m close,” he whispers. “I need to come in your mouth. I need you to take it all in, Abbi. Swallow all of me.” His voice is pleading and desperate as if me not swallowing would ruin something monumental.

Of course I will. Right now, I’d do anything for this man.

His dick swells even more and his thrusts come harder and faster, until my eyes are watering from the strain. Then suddenly he cries out, and holds my head down, and a flood of warm salty liquid hits the back of my throat in burst after burst. So much cum.

He stills and then pulls out of my mouth, allowing me to swallow every last drop of it as he strokes the hair back off my face slowly, affectionately. I peer up at him in awe.

I just made Henry Wolf come with my mouth.

Now what?

The feel of his dark, hooded gaze drifting over my heavy breasts coaxes me to lie back and give him a better view. And, hopefully, to entice him. I’m still afraid this is some marathon dirty dream and I’m going to wake up before I feel him inside me.

“Oh, babe.” He chuckles as he steps forward to grip my bent knees, pushing against them until my legs are back and my pussy is spread wide, his eyes on it. “We need to give that beautiful, tight little hole a rest before I fuck it raw.”

I clench in anticipation, that deep throb intensifying again. He inhales deeply, and I know he can smell the muskiness in the air. Of me, ready for him. His words, coupled with his eyes, could make me come.

Releasing my legs, he takes several measured steps back, his cock still erect and bobbing. “I’m going to the gym before dinner. You can call it a day.” Just like that, the steely calm is back.

I watch his superb backside as he disappears behind the pocket door of the bathroom, pulling it closed all the way.

I slip on my panties and skirt, grab my pantyhose, and duck out, keeping my head down all the way to my cabin, my mind in a whirlwind over what I just did.

Chapter Twenty-One

Katie’s perfume announces her presence behind me. “Did you know they were going to fire her?” Her tone is accusatory, but her eyes bleed sadness.

“I just heard about it today, I swear.” I force myself to swallow a mouthful of sweet potatoes that I’d normally devour, but now can barely taste. All evidence of Rachel was already packed up and gone when I arrived at the cabin. She was shipped off on the first ferry out, apparently, as Henry had demanded.

“They’re a bag of dicks,” Katie grumbles.

That has been the general consensus around the staff lounge, the murmurs carrying to my ears. Everyone knows that Rachel is gone, and everyone knows exactly why. Rachel broke rules. Wolf Hotel is strict on following rules, and Mr. Wolf is a hard-ass who waltzes around with all his money, looking down on everyone, and not giving anyone a break.

“I’m so sorry. I know, it sucks.”

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Come on, it was the lead singer of Death Jam! Wolf
wants
him telling everyone about how awesome this place is. And thanks to Rachel, he will. How can you have a rule about sleeping with guests, anyway? What she does off-shift is her business. Seriously! I get having rules about fucking your boss, but...”

Just keeping chewing your food, Abbi
. Hopefully that will keep the guilty panic from showing on my face. Not that Henry and I have had sex but, if what he said today is true, it’s only a matter of time before we do.

The thought of it gives me heart palpitations.

“Did you try talking to him? Reasoning with him? He knew she was your roommate, right?”

“I’m not sure. But I know she gave that guy a bunch of high-end alcohol for free without getting permission.”

She rolls her eyes. “A few drinks and that’s stupid. They could have written it off, easily. You don’t fire someone over a few drinks.”

The way she looks at me, I feel like I’ve failed her. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t anything I could do. Plus, I was too busy begging him not to fire us.” That may not be completely true but it’s close. “Wolf found out about us using the spa room. A guest complained to Belinda.”

“Shit,” Katie mumbles. “What happened?”

“I got written up, but I told them that I made you do it, so hopefully nothing will land on you.”

“Damn. I heard Wolf was strict on employee conduct, but I didn’t realize exactly how strict until now.” She pauses. “How do you work with him day in, day out? I mean, is he always so rigid and law-abiding?”

I stifle the snort that wants to escape. A part of me wants to defend him, tell her that he did what he thought was right, that he has thousands of employees to keep in line, beyond the hundred or so here. But I’m afraid she’ll see through my defensive words to what hides beneath. Lies, to protect a hypocrite.

I don’t know what else to call him. By his words, I should be fired. And, technically, so should he, if it’s possible to fire the owner. According to his father, it is.

And yet I wasn’t about to stop what happened between us today. Nor will I do anything to stop it from happening again.

“He’s all right when you get used to him,” is all I manage to say, struggling to keep my face from going red. I’m still reeling from the sudden change in course. It’s mind-boggling, how quickly I went from quietly pining for Henry to being naked and on his lap. I guess there were signs; things that, were I not such an insecure, inexperienced person, I would have seen.

Who am I kidding? Never in a million years should I expect a man like that to be interested in a girl like me. But it appears he is. I can still feel how much he is every time I shift in my seat, where he stretched me with his fingers, and every time I press my fingertips to my lips to test the swelling there.

So what now?

Do I let this happen, knowing it’s wrong? That it’s against the rules?
His
rules? That it’s against everything that I’ve been raised to believe in? If we go any further than we have, it will change everything for me. And what about Jed? I’m thousands of miles away from him, making it easier to forget the hurt that he caused me, to assume I’ll be able to turn him away. But this thing—whatever this thing is between Henry and me—isn't going to last past the summer. So then what? I go back to Chicago for my last year of college, sexually educated by the hotel billionaire himself, and I’m no longer hurt? A lifetime of memories with Jed no longer affect me?

What if Jed does come back to me?

What if I can get past the hurt he has caused, only to lose him because I slept with another man?

Katie sighs, eying the food line. “This really sucks.”

“It does.” My work phone beeps with an incoming message. It takes everything in me to not dive for it in my pocket, knowing it’s Henry.

She heard it and now glares at my pocket through narrow eyes. “I’ll let you get your message from the devil. I’m going to get dinner.”

She heads for the line and I pull my phone out.

How are you?

Before I can chicken out, I type:

I’m confuse
d
.

I want to rescind the text as soon as it’s gone. He’s at Lux now. Even though he asked, I’m sure the last thing he wants to get is an emotional “confused” text. What if it makes him regret what happened?

I sit there, biting my thumbnail. Trying not to wait for a response.

Ten long minutes later, as Katie’s heading back with her tray, the three telltale dots appear, showing me that he’s typing. My heart flutters with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

I’ll clear up things in the morning. See you at seve
n
.

Always so cryptic. I set my phone on vibrate and stick it into my pocket, restraining myself from messaging back because what the hell does that mean?

Is every day here going to leave me reeling?

~ ~ ~ ~

I step through the service entry door to the sound of Henry’s angry voice. “I don’t care what their focus groups have told them. This is not what my family’s business stands for!”

He leans back in his chair, rolling a pen between his fingers as he listens to the man give reasons for the strategy—demographics, the future, a successful Sandals campaign—over the speaker phone, the morning sun streaming in through the window, highlighting the streaks of golden brown in his hair.

Henry’s face is stony, his jaw taut. And yet he’s still oh so beautiful, dressed in a simple charcoal suit, white shirt and silver tie that coordinates well. “I don’t give a fuck what worked for Sandals. This is Wolf! We’re not a bunch of copycats and we’re not going ahead with this campaign, Blake.” That’s his six thirty call with Wolf’s vice president of marketing. At least he’s on schedule today. “Tell them to scrap it and start over and if they can’t do that, we’ll find an agency who can. Got it?” Without even acknowledging me with a glance, he gestures me over with that infamous two-fingered waggle.

I approach, unsure of how this morning is going to go. I’m guessing it’s not a good idea to bring up last night until I’ve tested the waters.

Blake grumbles an unhappy, “Yeah.”

“I’d like to see a new concept in a week for approval, since I can’t rely on my VP to get it right.” Henry slams his finger on the orange button to hang up. The finger that was deep inside me last night, bringing me to a quivering mess in mere minutes. I squeeze my thighs together with the memory.

“Morning,” I offer softly.

Finally, Henry turns to me, stress and anger painted across his face. “I have a meeting right now?”

“Yes. A conference call with Wolf Shanghai.”

He punches a couple of keys on his laptop and sends a meeting cancellation through Outlook.

Spinning his chair to face me, his legs splayed on either side of my body, he reaches beneath my skirt, his hands running up my outer thighs. His touch makes me wet almost instantly, the dull, needy throb between my legs appearing out of thin air as if it’s been simmering there for days without relief.

“Don’t wear these anymore,” he mutters, grabbing the top of my nylons and unceremoniously tugging at them until they slip to my feet. He reaches back up to grab the sides of my panties and pulls them all the way down my legs. “Or these.” I let out a small yelp as he grabs me by the hips and hoists me onto the smooth wood as if I weigh nothing at all. Peeling my shoes, nylons, and panties off completely, he demands, “lie back.” The soft, sensual Henry from yesterday afternoon is absent.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I stretch out across the hard wood surface. It’s not exactly comfortable. The sun is streaming down over me, forcing me to close my eyes and shield my face with my arm. It’s warm, at least.

Henry pushes my skirt up until it’s pooling at my waist and I’m bare. With hands gripping the backs of my thighs, he pushes my legs up and apart.

“What are you doing?” I ask with a shaky voice, acutely aware that I’m exposed in broad daylight and Henry is at eye level with the space between my legs.

“You said you were confused.”

I gasp at the first swipe of his tongue along my cleft, my legs closing of their own accord.

“No,” he growls, his firm hands denying me the moment of modesty, pushing them even farther apart, until the sides of my knees are grazing the desk’s cool surface and my pelvis is completely open to him.

“People will see!” I hiss, and yet I feel myself growing wetter with excitement.

His low chuckle vibrates against my sensitive pink flesh, only amplifying his tongue’s intoxicating strokes. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to see.”

His tongue dives deep inside me and swirls, eliciting a moan from deep within my chest.

“I was wrong,” he whispers, his breath skating across my most private spot. “Your pussy tastes even sweeter than your mouth.” He licks me again, this time flattening his tongue against me.

I’ve never had anyone speak to me like Henry does. It makes me uncomfortable and yet I crave hearing him say those words. I’m arousing him, and that makes me more aroused, more confident, more comfortable with what he’s doing to me.

I try to relax. With Henry Wolf’s face between my legs at 7:00 a.m.

It feels a thousand times better than I ever imagined it would.

His tongue leaves my core to give my clit some attention, twirling around it like Katie did for Rachel that night before he clamps down to suck and toy with it mercilessly until I whimper.

“Are you sore?”

“No,” I lie, reaching down to weave my fingers through his mop of waves. I
am
sore, but I forgot the discomfort the second I stepped into the cabin, longing for more of this.

He releases one of my thighs, but I no longer feel the urge to close my legs. I gasp as his finger slides into me, followed by a second.

“I’ve never felt a pussy this tight before.” He pushes a third finger in slowly and stills his hand, waiting for my body to adjust.

“Is that a problem?” I moan softly as his fingers find that same magical spot and he puts pressure on it again. I can’t help bucking into him, wanting to get closer, his tongue working my clit harder.

“No. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

I smile and close my eyes with his words, my inhibitions quickly melting away. I no longer care that I’m half naked on Henry’s desk or that his face is in my crotch. All I want is to revel in the feel of his tongue against me, knowing that he enjoys it, and that it will end with a mind-blowing release from this pressure lower in my belly.

Henry slides his fingers out and reaches around to grip my thighs again, making my skin slick as he slides my body toward the edge of the desk and seals his mouth over my clit, sucking with punishing pressure.

“Oh!” I cry out, curling my fist through his hair as that tingle builds deep inside me, rolling my hips upwards, on the brink of another monstrous orgasm. I can’t get his mouth and tongue close enough. I grab the back of his head and pull him to me as I grind my hips against his face shamelessly.

My orgasm comes on fast and strong, making me arch my back and gasp aloud as the blood pulses between my legs.

I’m faintly aware of him kissing the insides of my thighs, his freshly shaven jaw leaving a slick trail of
me
along my skin. Strong arms pull me into a sitting position, and then I’m pressed against Henry’s chest in a cradle hold and he’s carrying me toward his bedroom.

I giggle, taking in his glistening mouth. “I’m all over you.”

“You are,” he whispers, no longer agitated as he was when I first arrived. He leans down to press his lips against mine until I can taste the odd muskiness. “You thoroughly fucked my face.” Setting me down on the bed, he adds in a low growl, “Now I’m going to thoroughly fuck that pretty, tight pink hole of yours.”

Flutters erupt in my stomach.

“Take your clothes off.”

He simply stands there and watches with hungry, impatient eyes as I unzip and slip off my rumpled skirt, letting it pool on the floor by my ankles. With shaky fingers, I unbutton my blouse and slip it off, then unhook my bra and cast it to the side.