Secrets of his Blood: An Erotic Romance, Episode 8 of The Devilhouse Books
…Most of them.
Rae Stone has given Wulf an ultimatum: tell her everything that he’s been hiding or they’re done. He takes her on her first proper Dom-Date and begins to reveal himself: the source of his money, what he does with it, and slowly, gently, who he is and what he is. He thinks he can win her over, given time, but her family won't let her go so easily. More
…Most of them.
Rae Stone has given Wulf an ultimatum: tell her everything that he’s been hiding or they’re done. He takes her on her first proper Dom-Date and begins to reveal himself: the source of his money, what he does with it, and slowly, gently, who he is and what he is. He thinks he can win her over, given time, at least enough to take her to Paris over her spring break to convince her that the safest place for her is with him, but her family won’t let her go so easily.
Rae stood in the center of Play Room Four with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows raised.
Play Room Four looked like an idealized and impossible fantasy of a co-ed’s dorm room—spacious, hung with pink frou-frou and college team pennants, and strewn with turquoise shag rugs,—and thus nothing at all like Rae’s cramped dorm room that she split with her cousin-roommate Hester, who may or may not ever speak to Rae again.
“This room does have rather comfortable seating,” Wulf gestured to pink, furry armchairs, “where we can speak. My office seemed a little sterile, and that window can be problematic.”
He hadn’t minded the window when he had bent her over that big, glass desk of his.
Maybe he was anticipating something worse.
Wulf waved to the black globe embedded in the ceiling and then flicked a finger across his neck, telling the person in the security booth to cut the camera feed. He removed his suit coat and hung it by the collar over a pink hitching post.
Wulf checked his phone, tapped the screen, and said, “All right. We’re alone.”
Wulf the Billionaire Dude seemed like an alien to her, someone she couldn’t know, someone who a redneck girl like her should never meet.
She wanted one more time with The Blond Hottie. No worries. No future. No secrets. Just a moment of abandon like a quick, rough screw against a wall.
Rae leapt into his arms. Her lips found his and she kissed him hard.
She couldn’t let him take over. She had to Domme the heck out of him or else he would tie her down and reduce her to giggling girl-jelly, and then he would tell her something awful, something that stopped her heart, or something so intimate that his soul must be ripped open, and then she would be stuck with whatever stupid, sex-crazed reaction popped out of her mouth. If one of the things that he had yet to tell her involved opening an emotional vein in his quiet, understated, very British way, an insipid reaction from her might hurt him, and she desperately didn’t want that.
After the briefest of instants which Rae prayed to God was due to surprise, Wulf grabbed her around the waist and kissed her back. He kissed her like he was famished for her, sucking on her lips and crushing her to him. His heart beat hard under Rae’s hand. He picked her up by her waist with one arm and swung her legs around, catching them in his other arm and cradling her to his chest.
She was still kissing him and then she was falling and landed on the bed. Wulf crawled on top of her and buried his face in her neck, mouthing her neck and shoulder.
No, she was going to have him. She wanted one more moment like that first night. She arched her back and grabbed his shoulders, pressing him to her.
He pushed back, startled.
She cocked a leg under herself and flipped him over.