My stomach churns. My heart starts beating like a thousand nervous wing strokes. I rub my clammy hands on my trousers and steal a peek at my werewolf boss, Dom and boyfriend, Damon Raines. Unlike me, Damon’s not looking worried one bit. Don’t draw conclusions yet. Normally, I’m not like this.
I’m more confident. Tougher and more together. Being a male personal assistant in a world dominated by smart and sexy females proves that. It’s not easy either, being a billionaire werewolf’s mate. I’m not complaining. It’s been two wonderful months. Eight weeks full of laughs and cuddles during the day, and exploring my submission at night.
But like what my God-fearing, conventional Christian parents always say: happiness always comes with a price tag.
Damon and I are about to fight our greatest battle yet. Three days ago, Damon gets a letter from the Supe Council, or rather, the governing body of all supernatural denizens in the city. Every paranormal life form answers to them, even pack alphas and coven leaders. Damon isn’t a member of any pack. He’s a lone wolf, but Damon has status in both the business world and the supernatural community.
After photos of us resurface in the media after each event we attended, the council decided Damon needed an appropriate mate to stand by his side.
“Hey,” Damon says softly. His hand closes over my wrist, and just like that my pulse leaps. Heat threatens to escape from our suits as he tugs me close.
“Damon wait—” I begin, knowing the effect he has on me, on both of us. Eight weeks might pass, but time is irrelevant when it comes to our passions. The flame between us burns even brighter with each encounter.
Damon doesn’t listen. Of course he doesn’t. He’s my Dom and lover, and I don’t like it any other way. He leads the dance, holds my leash, and I’m happy to follow him to wherever end he lures me to. I trust Damon though, and I know he won’t make any rash decisions without discussing it with me. Communication is the key to every D/s relationship, and Damon’s right. Damon’s task might be to push me to my limits, but we discuss every step of our journey, and he listens to my concerns. He’s tough most of the time. Dominating and scary occasionally but sometimes, he lets me see a glimpse of his sweet and tender side.
I began as his assistant. Now I’m more than that. I’m his, and he’s mine. No one, not even the supernatural council can change that.
“I like that look in your eyes, Joel.” Damon’s voice tickles against my ear, breath warm. My cock perks in my trousers, and finally he kisses me. Takes my lips like it’s the last one he’ll ever give.
Damon nips and sucks on my lower lip, sending tingles through my skin. I respond with equal passion. He pushes me against the elevator wall, and God does this remind of the first time he took me back to his apartment. Yeah. Just like this, with my back digging against the wall and the hard muscles of his chest colliding against my own. We grind our bodies against each other. Damon’s hands slide and explore every inch of me. I can feel his erection pressing against me, and I let him feel mine.
Most of the time we’re like this—reduced to horny teenagers who can’t get enough of each other.
Damon begins to reach for my zipper, but I stop him.
“Not here. Later. Please, Sir?” I remember to add.
Damon’s nostrils flare. His pupils are already turning to a wild shade of amber, telling me his wolf is on the verge of coming out. This won’t do, because he needs to be together. I push him gently away. He growls, but I ignore him and start smoothening out his suit.
“Got to get it together, boss,” I tell him.
Damon’s eyes twinkle. He likes it when I call him that, especially when we’re alone. He whispers again, his breath warm “What a demanding Sub. We’ll have to correct that behavior later.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper.
The elevator doors hiss open and we step inside a waiting room dressed in heavy ornate hangings and furniture. The place looks daunting, especially with the bloodthirsty paintings of various supernatural creatures ripping apart defenseless humans. It feels like we’re on the set of a cheap historical TV series, except we’re at the highest floor of the Supe Council Towers.
Damon squeezes my hand. A middle-aged secretary behind a heavily varnished desk looks up from typing on her computer. “Mr. Raines? Go right in. The council is waiting for you.” She makes a ‘tsk’ sound and her thin lips form an unattractive smile. “You are five minutes late.”
Undaunted, Damon flashes the slightly pointed rows of his canines at her. She doesn’t look impressed. Maybe she’s some kind of supernatural or another. We begin to head in, except she interrupts us again.
“You may leave your...pet human here.”
I bristle, but Damon squeezes my hand.
“Joel Cash is my mate. It is his right to hear the proceedings.”
The woman bites her lip. Clearly, this isn’t part of her instructions. She’s about to say more, but Damon drags me along and pushes the heavy oak double doors leading to the council chambers. The room’s again, circular. All bronze finishes and heavy furnishings. Honestly? It looks like some kind of ritual room where some human’s going to be sacrificed. If Damon wasn’t by my side, I would turn, and run for the hills.
There’s an elevated platform where five figures completely robed in black remained seated on high-backed chairs—no, thrones. They were definitely thrones, either carved in wood or stone. Which century do these weirdoes think they live in?
This is too funny for words, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Damon Raines. CEO of Raines Group. Lone alpha. We see you have brought your human pet along. Why?” says the robed dude in the center.
“Your letter clearly stated the reasons for my summons,” Damon says. He keeps me close to him, tucked against his shoulder. Even now his possessive and territorial nature makes me hard, although the situation is inappropriate. I focus on the conversation.
“A person of your stature, a contributor to our community who wields influence in the human world needs a respectable mate.”
“That’s why I brought Joel with me,” Damon says with the same confidence and resolution in his voice when he tells me I’m his. “I’m presenting Joel Cash so the council would officially recognize him as my mate.”
“A human—” someone sputtered.
“We can compile you a list of suitable mates that match your station.”
“This human,” Damon said firmly, yellow gaze gleaming. A snarl tickled out of him and judging by the way his skin is heating up, I know his wolf’s on the verge of lashing out. Damon continued, “Is the best I know. He’s fucking gorgeous, passionate and smart. I don’t want or give a fuck about anyone else.”
One of the robed figures let out a frustrated sigh. Others argue among themselves. The one in the middle leans forward in his chair and raises a hand, which quickly silences the others. I glimpse a long, chalk-white, unlined face, red lips, and silted eyes. A vampire, or something more ancient?
My back hits Damon’s, but he’s firm and steady.
“Your human doesn’t wear your mark, Damon. That tells us and the entire world you’re still open market.”
I know what he’s referring to. Our mutual good friends, Ethan and Remy, are like us—werewolf and human. Ethan and Damon were bitten at the same time. Ethan was Damon’s best friend, but he didn’t have Damon’s problems because he was close to his ex-wife’s pack. Remy meanwhile, was a new friend. Ethan gave Remy his mate mark a while back, but Damon and I plan to wait.
“If I give Joel my mark, will that shut you up?” Damon practically growls out.
Silence on the floor. The robed dudes must have some kind of mental communication going on, because the one in the center, presumably the leader, spoke again. “The human is still not our ideal choice. However, if we are unable to persuade you otherwise, then we’ll respect your decision. We will give you three days to complete the mating ceremony.”
“If there’s nothing else, then we’re leaving.” Damon and I turn to leave. Halfway out the door, the creepy vampire speaks again.
“And Damon?”
“What?”
“The next time we meet, that human better be marked.”
“Got it,” Damon says curtly, before sweeping me back inside the elevator. Once the doors close, we both breathe easy.
“What next?” I ask him, wiping the sweat off my brow. I’m cooking in my suit. It feels like we barely escaped death.
“The best part.” Damon loses his serious mask and grins. At his dark gaze, I shiver, knowing his intentions. “It’s time.”
Instead of letting him lead the dance, I link my fingers with his. I kiss the side of his jaw, and move up to his lower lip. Electricity jumps from his skin to mine.
Damon already made his move, and pulled all the stops to make me his.
Now it’s my turn to win his heart, but I suspect he’s already held mine captive.