by Haley Weir
He hated the accusations he heard in his brother’s voice. “Destiny isn’t just my girlfriend, she’s my mate. They don’t meet up here; they came to take her back to her father. Michael, Destiny and Corey are brother and sister. His story isn’t mine to tell, but just know that I wouldn’t be here without him.”
“Siblings?”
“And they just found out that their father is Hydra,” Brock confessed. “I didn’t purposely keep these things from you. I’ve just had my hands full with keeping them alive. They’re our key to putting an end to this, and...”
“And you love her,” Michael scoffed.
“I’m starting to. It was your agency that brought us together, so you can’t deny that there’s a touch of fate in this damn town.”
“Why did Corey help you?”
“He’s…a jaguar shifter. Hydra had been forcing him to take a serum that suppressed his ability to shift.” Brock paused when he noticed something strange in his brother’s expression. “You knew all along?”
“I know everything, Brock. I was just hoping you would have told me sooner. Preferably before I ran into an ambush.”
“Where’s Logan?” he asked.
“He ran for it the second he saw me. His men grouped together and attacked. Somehow they knew I wouldn’t shift in town and endanger the citizens.”
“Well, Corey and Destiny are on their way here, so I have to get this place cleaned up. Then I think we all need to sit down and have a long talk. And I mean everyone, Michael. All of our friends.”
“Jenny doesn’t want to be anywhere near the three of you.”
“I don’t care,” Brock snapped.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Michael hobbled toward the door. “Keep them safe, but don’t go looking for trouble. Not until I know for certain how we need to handle this. Leave it to me. Besides, you need to get back to the fire station.”
“Why?”
“This town is running out of heroes. And it would give them hope to think that you’re recovering well from the fire,” his brother muttered.
“And what do you think? Am I recovering well?”
“You nearly died in a forest fire and then you were the victim of cruel experiments. The fact that you’re standing up and capable of forming sentences is a miracle, Brock. All anyone is ever doing is recovering, but you…you’re surviving.”
Brock didn’t try to stop his brother. He began sweeping up the mess and putting things where he thought they went. Most of his cleaning was guesswork, but it looked hallway descent by the time Corey and Destiny arrived. To her credit, she didn’t make a fuss about the material things. “Are you alright?” she asked.
“Your house was broken into and you’re asking if I’m alright?”
“I need to make sure that you’re still up for our date tomorrow night,” Destiny snorted. She went into the kitchen and shouted, “And yes, before you ask, I still expect us to go on our date. I’ve been controlled by my father for too long and I don’t want him to ruin the one thing I chose for myself.”
Brock couldn’t help the cocky grin that appeared on his face as he leaned against the doorframe. “You chose me?” He took two steps into the kitchen and kissed Destiny’s neck. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss of her own to the center of his chest. “You’re so short,” Brock teased.
“Hey! I’m fun-sized, alright. Not everyone can be as tall as a tree.”
“Didn’t hear you complaining at the park,” he whispered. “From what I remember, you’re good at climbing trees.”
Destiny reached up and grabbed his ears to bring him down to her height. She sealed her lips over his and Brock slipped his tongue into her mouth. Corey cleared his throat in the doorway, causing them to jump apart like two teens caught by their parents. Destiny returned to fixing a pot of tea as Brock was forced to face her brother on his own. Corey looked him dead in the eye and said, “Don’t touch her.”
“She’s my mate.”
“If you intend to go there with my sister, then you best marry her.”
Chapter Ten
A week later, Dorian was at the door of the station to greet Brock on his first day back at work. All of his friends gave him a warm welcome that he felt down in his soul. Every time he tried to return, it just felt wrong, but now Brock knew where he belonged. He liked to think that Destiny’s presence in his life had something to do with his newfound hunger for life.
For months he thought he would spend the rest of his miserable existence alone. But, little did he know, a miracle existed within reach and all he had to do was grab ahold of it and never let go. Destiny was the best thing that ever happened to Brock. Since their first date, he had woken up each morning with purpose.
The day went by smoothly despite the amount of time he had been away. Brock didn’t bother changing out of his uniform before heading to the location of their date. He climbed up the ladder on the side of the abandoned building and looked around the roof. Destiny sat on the edge in a thin black dress. Brock had to slow down and catch his breath. Her beautiful pale skin looked stunning in the moonlight.
Long black hair blew in the warm summer breeze and Brock’s fingers itched to wrap around the strands. He wanted to kiss her until they both needed to break away in fear of passing out. She turned and the blue light cast from the starry sky illuminated the profile of her face. Hazel eyes flickered over to him and the heat he saw in their depths stole what was left of the air in his lungs.
Destiny stood up and walked toward him like a goddess, all curves and elegant beauty. He set his bag on the ground and strutted over to his mate. She let him lift her into his arms as he tasted that sweet smile of hers. The sound of her heartbeat brought him a peace that had only ever seemed like a dream. Destiny laced her fingers at the nape of his neck and deepened the kiss.
He tightened his hold, taking control until they were gasping for breath. She jumped out of his arms and Brock took pleasure in knowing that her shiver had nothing to do with the night air. “Ready to beg yet, gorgeous?”
“No. I just wanted to remind myself that I could still win this wager.”
“Yeah? How’s that going?”
Destiny pulled up onto the tips of her toes. “You’re not as good of a kisser as you think, Brock Wasting. Resisting temptation is what I’ve been doing since I’ve met you.”
“So you admit that I’m tempting?” His hands made their way toward her waist once more, but she stepped back and sauntered over to the edge of the roof. Brock followed slowly, enjoying the view of her figure in the wispy dress. But the fine quality of the silk was nothing compared to the softness of her skin.
Brock sat beside Destiny and caught her staring at the way the short sleeves of his shirt stretched around his bulging biceps. Destiny licked her lips and he knew she wasn’t as indifferent toward him as she pretended to be. That kiss had lit a fire inside of them both and Brock could tell that she was so focused on winning the bet that she hadn’t realized the most important thing in their relationship.
“What do you think it means to submit?” he asked candidly as she handed him a glass of whiskey. Brock was surprised by her choice of drink, impressed that she had chosen a bottle even Michael would have approved of with his unearthly high standards.
“I think it would mean losing myself in you and giving up the control that I’ve worked so hard to take back. Sometimes I feel cursed. It’s as though I’m always surrounded by men who want to own me more than they want to love me.”
“Well, you’ve got it all wrong.” Brock placed his finger on her jaw and gently applied pressure until she turned to look him in the eyes. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Why am I wrong?”
“Because submitting to me is different than giving someone else power over your life. Submitting to your lover, your friend, and your mate, means that you’re trusting me with your heart and your body. It’s a bond where taking care of your needs heals parts of me that nothing el
se can reach, where you no longer have to put up this endless battle in your mind about who you’re supposed to be. You would find purpose in being mine as much as I find purpose in being yours,” Brock explained. “I understand that handing over the burden of your own safety, finding that part of yourself that is obedient, and trusting someone with your mental health is a challenge. But you have all the power.”
“If I’m submitting, how am I the one in power?”
Brock tucked a strand of hair behind Destiny’s ear. “Because you have the right to revoke consent. If anything happens that you don’t approve of, you can speak up and make your demands. My job is to make sure that you are taken care of and if you feel uncomfortable, afraid, or hurt in any way, then I don’t deserve the gift of your submission. I would rather die than make you feel unworthy or like you’re a burden, Dezzy.”
“So where does the spanking and the dungeon stuff come in?”
He tilted his head and bit his lip to hold back a smile. “That blush on your cheeks tells me that you aren’t as horrified by the prospect of spanking as you pretend to be.” Destiny gulped loudly and Brock pressed a kiss to her throat. He moved his lips close to her ear and sighed, “I can already read your body like one of your beloved books. Imagine what I could do if I really put in some effort.”
Her shaking hands came around his back to hold on tight. The thrill of sitting so high above the ground wasn’t unlike what he had planned for her later. Brock wanted her to feel undone by him, to float above her body and the rest of the world before crashing back down to earth. Only he wanted her to know for certain that he would catch her before she hit the ground.
“There will be some punishments, negotiations, boundaries put in place, but I’m not too fond of dark dungeons lit up by artificial lighting. I would much prefer to see your lovely shape illuminated by flickering candlelight and bound to a bed.”
“Will you mark me? Like scars and...burns?”
“Never,” he vowed. “Nothing I do will be permanent. It will linger, but only to serve as a reminder to you that I was the one who put them there. Then they will fade.” Brock saw the interest in her eyes. His little mate was rife with intrigue, leaning closer to the warmth of his body in search of his care whether she realized it or not.
Destiny’s lips ghosted against his, but Brock moved away before they could connect completely. His fingers tangled in the hair at the base of her skull and he gave a little tug, watching the fire spread from her twinkling gaze to the rosy high points of her cheeks. “Your health, safety, and pleasure are my utmost priorities. You are cherished, Dezzy, and you deserve the love that I can give you.”
She chased after his kiss each time he refused her. Brock could practically taste the longing inside of her. “You should have never kissed me,” Destiny said. “Now it’s all that I can think about. I hate it...it makes me feel weak.”
“My strength is yours, love. Whatever you need, I will give to you. All you have to do is ask.” Brock’s thumbs massaged the place where her ears met her jaw and heard a sound that was similar to a purr. She plastered herself against his chest, knowing that he would never let her fall over the edge. He waited for her to say the words: two simple words that would allow them to do what they so desperately needed to do. Destiny licked her plump bottom lip and moved so close that Brock smelled the mint on her breath and the subtle fragrance of her perfume.
“Please…”
“Please what?” he asked.
“Kiss me.”
In Brock’s mind, kissing was actually far too tame. In many ways the word ‘devour’ was a more accurate description. He felt like a man starved, wandering the desert in search of her wondrous taste as if it were the last drop of water. She melted against him instantly, the curves of body fitting perfectly into his sharper contours. Destiny was a woman built for pleasure. He growled into the kiss and tickled the roof of her mouth with his tongue.
Every little sigh, every little tremor, was perfection. Brock tested her compliance. He leaned away from the edge and crawled back on his hands before rolling her onto the roof. She arched toward him, but Brock pinned her arms above her head. “Leave them there,” he ordered. “Don’t move them until I give you permission.”
Destiny nodded her head.
“Use your words.”
“Yes,” she huffed.
“Yes, what?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion, so he helped her out.
“You refer to me as ‘King’ while you are in my good graces and ‘Sir’ while I’m scolding you, understand?”
“Yes, my King.” Destiny’s body naturally relaxed at the use of his title. Brock was so pleased that he bent down and rewarded her with a kiss.
“My Queen learns quickly.” He tickled the tips of his fingers over the sensitive parts of her neck. His intense gaze took in every single one of her reactions. Brock’s hand moved to her clavicle and down to the swell of her right breast, fingers sliding down the fabric until her bra was revealed. The black lace gave him a teasing view, but her averted his attention elsewhere, summoning a sound of frustration from his mate.
“Please…”
“Tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” he said in a low rumbling tone.
“Touch me...anywhere. Please, just touch me.” Destiny’s hips moved against him, but Brock’s powerful hands held them still. He gave her a look filled with silent commands and recognized the very second she submitted to his will.
“Good girl.” He rewarded her with a swift lick to her lace-covered nipple. Another telling shiver caused Brock to chuckle. “You like to be praised, my Queen? I’ll keep that in mind.” He kissed his way to the edge of her bra before taking the fabric of her dress and tearing it down the center, leaving her milky flesh naked for his eyes to feast on.
Destiny’s arms moved to cover her body. Brock clicked his tongue against his teeth and grabbed her throat the way he had done at the park. “Didn’t I tell you not to move your hands until I gave you permission to do otherwise?”
“Yes, sir,” she gulped. “I was...afraid of being so exposed outside.”
Brock lowered his body on top of her, allowing Destiny to feel his weight. “Do you trust me, Destiny?” he asked, using her proper name to add gravity to his inquiry.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you trust that I would never let anyone see you like this?”
“Yes, Sir,” she repeated softly.
“As your mate and your King, do you trust me to protect you no matter the cost?”
“Yes, Sir?”
Brock snarled in her ear and squeezed his hand a little tighter. Destiny’s hips bucked, but she stilled when he pinned her with a domineering stare. “Get that question out of your voice, Destiny. Do you want to be punished?”
“No, Sir.”
“Then answer correctly. As your mate and your king, do you trust me to protect you no matter the cost?” his voice sounded dark and commanding even to his own ears. He watched the flames of passion burn in the depths of her hazel eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good.” Brock finished removing the dress, leaving Destiny in her bra and panties. He then peeled the tight fireman’s shirt over his head and tugged it over hers. She stared at him questioningly, but did not challenge him. Brock kissed her as a reward, not stopping until her toes curled and her thighs began to rub together. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
He led her to into the abandoned building and down a flight of stairs. A dark corridor was lit only by a single candle on the floor at the end of the hall. Brock opened a door on the right and showed a beautiful room draped with royal blue curtains. Brass candelabras of all sizes washed the room in a warm yellow light. A fireplace crackled in front of an oversized canopy bed. The mattress was covered in fine silk sheets and a plush comforter that probably cost more than her rent.
Destiny craned her neck
to look up at Brock, stunned by the romantic atmosphere that he created for her. His hand reached out to stroke her cheek and she noticed how his eyelashes fluttered like the beat of her heart against his cheek. The stubble on his chin was at odds with some of his softer features, but the raw masculinity of her mate was wrapped around him like a cloak.
Destiny held perfectly still as Brock’s silver gaze seemed to glow faintly. She wanted to look away, afraid he could see just how broken she truly was, but she forced herself to be strong like Corey. That morning, while Brock had been working, her brother told her everything that happened to him. Her heart broke for him, but she knew that Brock has suffered through something similar and the thought of her mate hurting was enough to bring her to tears.
Submitting to him was easier than she had thought. The desire that coursed through her veins had been frightening, and deep down, she knew that only Brock could ever give her what she needed. Only Brock could heal her in ways that she had failed to do for herself. Time didn’t heal all wounds...sometimes it took love and patience.
He walked until the back of her knees hit the bed. In this light, he truly looked like a king. What he lacked in royal blood, he made up for in his reign over her senses. Destiny didn’t know how she had resisted him for so long. Brock applied a slight pressure on her shoulder and she sat on the edge of the bed. “Wait here,” he commanded. “Whatever you hear, don’t leave this bed. I want you stripped and laying with your arms gripping the headboard when I return to you.”
“Yes, my King.”
The approving smile he gave her was reward enough, but Destiny watched as he stripped his clothes off piece by piece. Brock dropped the articles of clothing as he slowly walked toward a secluded bathroom, disappearing before she could see those tight black briefs slide down his muscled legs. She removed the t-shirt, her bra, and panties before sliding into the bed.
Her cheeks matched the erotic blush on the rest of her body as she listened to the sound of water sloshing over his body. Destiny closed her eyes and gripped the headboard, imagining the soap cascading down his sculpted back and abdomen. She imagined his hair dampen and skin flush from the heat of the water. Her thoughts were interrupted by a groan that echoed off of the brick walls.
