I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. My blood burned, my heart hammered like a steam train, and all I wanted was to ride this lean and angry man until the slow waves of pleasure lapping my skin became a molten force that would not be denied
And that's exactly what I did
We climaxed as one, the strength of it tearing a strangled sound from my throat as his body slammed me into the backs of others, his movements fast and furious
The shudders eased. He was still hard inside, but that wasn't surprising, simply because the power of the moon was at full force. The moon heat granted all wolves the potency to celebrate again and again during the weeklong phase, but tonight and tomorrow were peaks, with recovery time down to zero. Perhaps it was nature's way of making up for the change she forced us through at the full moon. The night of the full moon was the one night we had no control over which form we took. That night, we ran solely as wolves
He began to move inside me again. His expression was tight, intent, and I knew he intended to exact payment in full before he said anything more
The fact that he was there, fucking me, when he was well aware that his offices were being broken into and examined assured me there would be nothing incriminating found. Whether that evidence was somewhere else or whether there was simply nothing to be found was anyone's guess
We stayed in that sweating, gyrating mass for an hour before moving out. We continued at the table, in the shower, against the wall, on the stairs. Each time was hard and furious, and most of the time he took without giving. The wolf in me was having a damn fine time, but the woman was getting a little pissed
He finally led me back to the table, and I heaved a silent sigh of relief. I was bruised and aching and only partially satisfied, and knew it was intentional. He was making me pay for what he saw as a betrayal
I slid onto one of the benches and grabbed a beer off a passing waiter. I didn't drink it immediately, instead pressing the icy bottle against my fevered forehead
Misha sat down on the opposite side. "Ask your questions."
His silver eyes gave nothing away
"Tell me why you had a file bearing the name Genoveve Confectionary on your desk a year ago."
"It was a company I was considering buying." He raised a pale eyebrow. "You have a very good memory."
"Exceptional, considering the circumstances."
The smile that played across his lips was at odds with the ice of his gaze
"And did you?" I prompted, when he didn't say anything
"No."
"Who did?"
"Konane."
"The same company who owns Moneisha?"
"Yes."
I flipped the cap off the beer and took a long drink before asking, "So who is the owner of Konane?"
He smiled. "Try another question."
His expression said he'd tell me. Eventually. I wondered how many hours' "payment" he would exact before he did. "So what has chocolate and research got in common?"
"Maybe the owner was simply diversifying his portfolio."
Something in the way he said that itched at my instincts. "You don't believe that."
"No."
"Why not?"
He leaned back in his seat and studied me for a second, his expression both arrogant and amused. "Because the owner of Konane and I share similar interests, and have, in the past, been business partners."
I forced a smile. "You never told me you were interested in chocolate."