His hand left her nipple and traveled down her stomach and leg, stopping at the hem of her gown. He gathered the fabric in his palm, slowly exposing her until he had the skirt piled on top of her thighs. He pulled one of her knees over his legs, spreading her legs. Cara’s pussy hummed in anticipation. She was bare under the dress, and the cold air tickled her exposed lips. His hand skimmed up her leg, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. He came to her cunt and stopped. She felt another grin buried in his kisses. Malcolm’s fingers slid over her slit, playing with her arousal. Cara could feel the wet slickness running between her legs.
“We had better be careful,” Malcolm whispered against her lips. “If you get any wetter, there will be a stain on that pretty dress and all night people will see it and know you’re mine.”
Cara tore her lips from his. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t even think about that! Also, I am not yours. Shit, I need to clean up. I can’t be walking around with a wet spot on my ass! Why didn’t I wear underwear?” Malcolm looked amused, and Cara glared at him. “This isn’t funny.”
Just then, the car came to a stop, and there was a quiet knocking on the glass partition.
“We’re here already? Oh god, he won’t open the door yet, will he?”
Malcolm leaned his forehead against Cara’s. “I was only teasing. Your dress has a lining, remember? The driver won’t open the door until I tell him to.” Malcolm removed his hand from between her legs and brought it to his mouth. He sucked his finger casually, leaned over, and kissed her. She could taste herself on his tongue. She desperately wanted to tell their chauffeur to keep driving. Malcolm helped her straighten her clothes. When he leaned forward to close her zipper, he whispered, “Don’t get left alone with me tonight. I’ll make you mine.”
Cara scoffed, but the door opened before she could argue with him. The driver offered her his hand and helped her out of the car. The house in front of her made Malcolm’s look like Barbie’s Dream House. She stood still, completely awestruck until Malcolm took her arm and led her to the front door.
“What is this place?” she whispered, not wanting to draw attention to herself.
“The Rockson House. Old money, as old as mine. The family still lives in the home, but they rent it out for events and weddings. I don’t think they managed their fortune very well since they need to host proms for income.”
“Well, aren’t you feeling judgy,” Cara teased.
“I’m not being judgmental. I’m just stating facts. People criticize me for how I run my pack and our businesses, but we aren’t scrambling trying to stay afloat.” Malcolm took a champagne flute from a butler dressed like a penguin and handed it to Cara. “I’m going to find the chief. Please let me speak to him privately. I think he will be more comfortable talking if I’m alone.”
Cara felt like she was being shoved to the kids’ table, but it was a reasonable request. “Do you have a good relationship with Chief Brooks?”
“We have an arrangement. I make it my mission to make sure we have a mutually beneficial relationship with the police force because wolves make a great scapegoat.”
“So you just send them massive amounts of money to make them leave you alone?”
“And throw fundraisers for the Fraternal Order of Police.” He smirked as her jaw dropped.
“You did this?” Cara’s fingers waggled around, indicating the elaborate display of hors d’oeuvres, full bar, decorations that seems easily blending into the rest of the house’s interiors, and the guests with seven-figure bank accounts.
Malcolm shrugged. “It’s all politics.” His gaze snapped to the far side of the room. “There’s Brooks. Why don’t you wander over there? That part of the house is usually open to guests.” He nodded toward a hallway, then turned to leave. Malcolm’s hand slid down her back, surreptitiously caressing her curves. She turned to scold him, but he was already halfway across the room.
Cara swapped out her empty glass for a new one and wandered the perimeter of the hall looking for a good place to spy. She wanted to watch Chief Brooks’s reactions, but he was facing Malcolm and had his back to the room. Malcolm’s eyes followed her, and every time she stepped forward to try to eavesdrop, his eyes would darken and he’d shake his head. That didn’t stop her altogether; instead, she watched from a distance, looking for changes in the chief’s body language.
Malcolm was very animated throughout the whole conversation, pointing fingers and gesturing to the ground. The chief didn’t move. At all. For ten minutes. Finally, Brooks led Malcolm over to a woman. The three of them effortlessly slipped into a lively conversation, and the chief finally seemed at ease.
Cara strolled around the room, trying to get closer to the group. She recognized the woman but couldn’t place her. She was slender and blonde with perfectly curled hair and four-inch heels. The bombshell touched both men freely. Both of them hung on her every word.
The blonde took Malcolm’s arm and tried to lead him toward a set of doors. The wolf planted his feet. But the woman leaned forward and whispered into his ear. He laughed and softened, slipping an arm around the flirt and leading her across the room. Cara watched them in disbelief.
Fuck this.
She whipped around, gaze bouncing around the room for a distraction. Cara didn’t come here to be ditched, and she’d be damned if Malcolm found her waiting around for him to return. Her gaze settled on the hallway that Malcolm had pointed out to her earlier. Exploring sounded fun. Cara wandered casually toward the other side of the room, stopping at the bar to get a glass of Malbec. She carried her wine, looking at portraits, smiling at other guests, and inching her way farther down the hall. Even if this wing was open to the public, she didn’t want to be scolded by a waiter, so she tried to act as if entitlement came naturally to her and continued walking.
Cara stopped at the last door. She could either turn right and meander further into the estate, or she could hedge her bets and go into this room. She decided not to push her luck and opened the door, checking over her shoulder as she slipped inside.
The room was extravagant and pristine, like the rest of the house. It was decorated in soft pinks and white with gold leaf adorning the elegant moldings on the walls and ceiling. She wandered around the sitting room, touching shelves and throw pillows. Cara came to a desk in the corner and relief washed over her. The desktop was empty except for a small placard that stated the room was a ladies’ salon with a brief history of the mistress of the house. Thank goodness it was a public room; if she were caught, she wouldn’t be too embarrassed.
Cara continued around the perimeter and passed by a small piano, bookshelves, and a bar cart. Bar cart? Apparently a more modern ladies’ salon. She looked at the decanters, weighing her options. One of the crystal containers smelled like port, there was definitely brandy, and a third was sickeningly sweet smelling. Cara poured herself some port. It was the same color as her Malbec, at least it wouldn’t look like she had helped herself to the Rockson’s alcohol.
She stood in front of the window and sipped the wine. The grounds were beautiful expanses of green, and the sun was starting to set over the trees, flooding the room with a warm orange glow. Cara was solidly buzzed at this point and dreading the walk back to the party. Maybe she could stay and hide away from Malcolm for a bit longer.
She lost track of time watching the sunset. She stared at the tree line, and her mind raced. Here she was, sipping wine, in a multi-million-dollar house while her sister was missing and others were dead. Her thoughts tumbled around her brain for god knows how long until the door creaked open, and Cara jumped. The noise yanked her back to the present.
“I warned you not to be alone with me tonight.” Malcolm’s voice was deep and silky. She was instantly irritated that he would flirt with her.
“I have no interest in being your second choice.” She threw the accusation at him. “Leave me alone and get back to Ms. Bombshell. This is insulting.”
“Are you jealous?” Malcolm slowly stalked toward her. �
�I told you I would make you mine, and you dismissed me. You told me you would never be mine. We’re not mated, and I don’t even know how you feel about me. What’s stopping me from talking to ‘Ms. Bombshell.’” He raised his eyebrow, clearly baiting her.
Cara shook her head. “You think that you can bring me as a date and fuck around in the backseat of the car and toss me aside because I don’t want to be ‘yours’ two days after we met?”
“You invited yourself, and you started the fun in the backseat. But you wouldn’t feel jealous or tossed aside if you were mine.” She could hear the irritation growing in Malcolm’s voice.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I shouldn’t need to be your mate for you to respect me. And, once again, I will never be mated to you, or any wolf,” she spat, her hands shaking around the stem of her wine glass.
Malcolm’s jaw twitched and he clenched his teeth. “What makes you think I would want someone who hates everything I am? As a mate or just as a fuck?”
Cara felt as if she’d been slapped, and a deep flush spread across her chest and face. She emptied her glass and set it down on the cart. Humiliation burned into rage. “You don’t want to fuck me?” Fueled by indignation, Cara walked away from Malcolm and stood next to a chaise. “Then don’t.”
She bent an arm behind her back and lowered the zipper, letting the dress fall around her waist. She hooked her fingers under the fabric and swayed her hips as she pushed the dress over her curves. She stood naked in the middle of the room, wearing only a pair of heels, and stared at Malcolm. He stared back at her, his eyes twinkling, but made no move toward her.
Cara smirked as she lowered herself down onto the chaise. She reclined, planting one heel at the foot of the lounge and leaving the other on the floor. She closed her eyes and imagined what Malcolm must be seeing. Her head thrown back, and her blond hair cascaded over the edge, glowing against the rich emerald of the chaise. Her nipples tightened in the cold air, forming hard, pink peaks. She was splayed out, the soft line of her thighs drawing his eyes inward. Her legs were open, and her cunt exposed.
Eyes still closed, her hand traveled slowly across her skin. Cara stirred, shivering at her own touch. Her fingertips skimmed down her stomach and over her hipbones. She ran a light finger over her slit, easing her lips apart. Slowly, she crept further and further until she found the wet entrance to her pussy. She knew Malcolm’s eye were still on her. Despite all of their conflicts, she knew he still wanted her.
She thought about his hands on her in the car and tasting herself on his lips. Her breath quickened as she teased herself, rolling just the tip of her finger between her increasingly silky lips. Her other hand spread over her breast, massaging it slowly. She brushed her palm over her nipple and pinched the peak, sending flutters down her body.
She dragged her hand away from her breast and down her torso. She dropped her head to the side and opened her eyes. Malcolm had moved to the foot of the lounge. His hands were in his pockets, and his right arm was moving almost imperceptibly. She smiled wickedly at him as she slipped her fingers between her lips and spread them, opening herself to him.
CHAPTER FOUR
MALCOLM
Malcolm stood feet away from Cara, completely enraptured. His dick had started to get hard the instant she’d dropped her dress and stepped out of the puddle of fabric. Her body was stunning; soft and curvy through the hips with an angular waist and perfect breasts. He was drawn to her with an almost magnetic force.
She rolled her head to the side and stared directly at him. A sly smile crept across her face; she knew exactly what the fuck she was doing. Of course he wanted to fuck her, and Cara was calling his bluff. Her hand slid down between her legs. He felt bewitched, unable to look away as she spread her lips and exposed her pussy. He silently moved to her, and watched as she played with herself.
He’d been unable to keep his hands off of his cock when Cara started her show, and now he ran his hand down his length and stroked the tip with his thumb as Cara’s finger disappeared into her pussy. She sighed and shifted her weight as she ground her clit against the palm of her hand. He was so fucking hard that there was no way he could ignore the ache in his balls.
Cara’s other hand wandered across her breast, and her bright pink nipple puckered under her touch. Her mouth fell open, lax with pleasure. As she swayed her hips again, the soft curves of her thighs drew his eyes inward to her cunt. He stroked his cock, precum soaking through his pocket.
Fuck. Her hand dipped in and out of herself two, three times before she started tracing circles around her clit. She used a single finger, moving around the peak, and quiet moans slipped from her lips. He was lost. His dick pressed against the seams of his underwear as he drew small circles over the head of his cock, mimicking her movements.
Cara’s fingers slid inside her cunt again, and when she removed them, he saw how fucking wet she was. He wanted to taste her again.
She was still looking at him, but her eyes had become unfocused. She wet her lips with her tongue and bit down lightly on her bottom lip.
Malcolm felt a pricking beneath his skin; the beast inside of him was fighting to get out. The anticipation and his growing need were wearing down his self-control. He charged toward her, falling to his knees next to the chaise. He reached for her, but Cara’s knees slammed shut.
“You don’t want to fuck me,” she teased as she let her legs fall back open and continued touch herself.
“Obviously, I do,” he growled. Her smell was intoxicating. Her fingers were hypnotizing. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Show me. How badly do you want to fuck the woman who hates everything you are?”
She was taunting him, and he liked it. He really fucking liked it. Malcolm sat back on his heels and turned to look at her. He shook off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Cara’s eyes were heavy, but she watched him intently. He opened his belt buckle and undid his pants and pulled out his cock. Her eyes widened.
He stroked himself, watching to see what effect it had on her. She coyly closed her eyes and shifted her legs. He ran his hand up his dick and slid his thumb over the tip, before he moved his fist back down to the base. Instead of getting a sense of relief from his hand, he was ready to crawl out of his skin, and a deep hunger was growing inside of him.
He reached his other hand toward her and pressed two fingers against her pussy, waiting to hear if she would scold him again. He exhaled as he bent forward and pressed a kiss against her thigh as he slid his fingers inside. They both groaned. She was so fucking wet. For him.
He was on the verge of losing himself. His balls ached, and his cock strained against his hand. He needed to do something to calm the beast before he was lost to it entirely. He sprang to his feet and tore Cara from the couch, pulling her against him. His handed explored her body frantically while he devoured her mouth. His fingers skated from her nipples to her cunt to her hair and back again. He’d never been so overwhelmed by a woman before.
Cara’s breath was ragged against his ear. She grabbed his wrist with one hand and smiled. “Remember, you don’t want to fuck me,” she teased as she reached down with her other hand and slid the pad of her finger along the tip of his cock.
He growled and thrust her against the desk, pushing her face on to the wood. He bent over her and pressed his lips against her ear. “You’re mine.” He rested his forehead between her shoulder blades as he grabbed her hips and pulled her ass against his erection.
Cara shifted her hips, cradling his cock with her cheeks. “You can try to claim me, but I’ll never be yours.”
Malcolm straightened with a low growl. The pricking returned to his skin, and frustration spread throughout his body. He lowered himself behind her, bringing his mouth to her pussy. He spread her ass cheeks and swirled his tongue inside of her, lapping up her sweetness. Cara shifted her legs, opening herself further. He laid his tongue against her clit, dragged it over her lips and dipped it inside her. She arched her back, pushing her as
s toward his face, eager for more. He continued along her slit, kissing and licking his way over her asshole and to the base of her back.
That taste did not satisfy Malcolm’s thirst, it amplified it. He pushed his clothes off of his hips and grabbed Cara, pulling her closer. She tasted so goddamn good, and it was all for him. He pressed the tip of his cock against her cunt and pulled her to him, pressing harder, slowly stretching her open.
Malcolm fought to maintain control, sinking into her inch by inch as she moved against him, demanding more. Her eagerness was so fucking hot. He wasn’t sure how long he could control his instincts. He fists tightened against her hip, and he breathed deeply as he sunk into her. He was not going to last long. She felt so fucking good, and the beast inside of him wanted more.
He held onto her hips and eased back, until just the head of his cock remain inside of her. Cara moaned and rocked against him, clenching her pussy. He tightened his grip and drove into her, burying his entire length into her cunt.
She cried out as Malcolm pulled out and thrust into her again. This time he slammed her against the desk. She swayed her hips back and forth as her tight cunt pulsed around his dick. She reached her arms forward and anchored herself to the desk, arching her back as he fucked her.
Malcolm was lost; she was so tight and so wet, and all he could do was keep pace with her screams for more.
Cara’s body tensed as she came, and ripples of muscle spasms rolled over his cock. He plunged into her one final time, knowing he was going to fucking come. He held her ass against his thighs as relief washed over his body, and his legs shook as his cock pulsed inside of her.
She raked a hand through her hair and looked at Malcolm over her shoulder. His eyes were heavy and unfocused, but he saw her smug smile, full of satisfaction. He laid himself on top of her back and purred, “I told you I would make you mine. That I would fucking claim you.”
SOMETHING WICKED Page 14
