Chapter 10
1164words
No explanation, no pleasantries. Classic Morris. Except Morris Lawson had never missed a day of work in the three years he'd been CEO, according to office legend.
I tried calling. Straight to voicemail.
By noon, concern had overridden professional boundaries. I gathered the documents he'd need for tomorrow's meeting and headed to his address—a penthouse in the city's most exclusive building.
The doorman eyed me suspiciously until I mentioned Morris's name. "Mr. Lawson called down earlier. You're on the list."
That was... unexpected.
The elevator required a key card for the penthouse level. The doorman provided it with obvious reluctance. "Mr. Lawson doesn't get many visitors."
The penthouse was exactly what you'd expect—minimalist, expensive, impersonal. Like a high-end hotel suite rather than a home.
"Morris?" I called, setting the documents on a sleek console table.
A groan from the bedroom answered me.
I found him curled on his bed, sheets tangled around him, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. The room smelled of pine and something wilder—his scent, intensified.
"You look like shit," I said, keeping my tone light despite the concern churning in my gut.
He cracked one eye open. "Charming as always, Kingsley."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"It's just a fever." He attempted to sit up, then fell back with a grimace. "I don't need a babysitter."
I pressed my hand to his forehead. He was burning up. "This isn't just a fever."
He turned away. "It's nothing."
"Morris."
"It's a heat," he snapped, then immediately looked like he regretted the admission. "A mild one. It'll pass."
I sat on the edge of the bed. "When did it start?"
"Last night. After you left." He closed his eyes. "The suppressants usually prevent this. Without them..."
"What can I do?"
He laughed bitterly. "Unless you're offering to fuck me until I can't remember my own name, not much."
The blunt words hung in the air between us. I kept my expression neutral despite the heat that surged through me at the image.
My breathing quickened as the air filled with Morris's scent, more potent than usual, carrying an irresistible pull that seemed to bypass all rational thought.
"I shouldn't have said that," he whispered, but his eyes betrayed him—pupils dilated, a feral hunger lurking behind his usually controlled gaze.
"If that's what you truly want..." My voice came out rougher than intended.
Morris grabbed my wrist, his touch burning hot. "Noah, you don't understand. The full moon is tonight. This isn't just a heat—I'm changing."
I glanced at the window where moonlight streamed in. "Is that why your eyes are..."
He nodded, amber flecks in his irises now glowing gold. "I can usually control it, but without the suppressants, the wolf is too close to the surface."
"Tell me what you need."
His gaze met mine, struggling. "I want you. But not because of the moon's pull. Not because I can't control myself."
I leaned forward until our foreheads nearly touched. "Who says it's just the moon?"
His breath shuddered. I could feel his control crumbling, see the slight elongation of his canines.
"I can leave," I said softly, "or I can stay. Your choice."
Morris closed his eyes, seemingly battling himself. Then he opened them, golden and determined, and pulled at my shirt. "Stay."
The word was almost growled, filled with want and resolution.
I leaned in, pressing my lips to his. He responded immediately, fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer. The kiss quickly transformed from tentative to hungry, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting of mint and primal desire.
My hands slipped under his T-shirt, feeling skin that burned hotter than any human's should. He trembled at the touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. I helped him remove his shirt, breaking our kiss momentarily before claiming his mouth again.
"Are you sure?" I asked between kisses.
"Never been more certain," he answered, fingers already working on my shirt buttons.
I shrugged off my shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Morris's hands roamed across my chest, both exploring and possessing. I bent to kiss his neck, tasting his skin, feeling his accelerated pulse beneath my tongue.
His fingers slid to my belt, hesitating briefly. I looked up to see uncertainty in his eyes.
"We can go slow," I said.
"No," he shook his head, "I just... this matters to me."
I cradled his face. "It matters to me too."
Those words seemed to break the last barrier. He unbuckled my belt as I helped him out of his sleep pants. Soon there was nothing between us, skin against skin, breath mingling.
My hands explored his body, from chest to abdomen to inner thighs. He arched into my touch, gasping my name. I felt his heat, his desire, and the evidence of his arousal slick against my fingers.
"Noah," he whispered, voice carrying a vulnerability I'd never heard before, "I need you."
I kissed his lips while my fingers gently probed, feeling his heat and tightness. He moaned against my touch, nails—slightly sharper than normal—digging into my back.
"Is this okay?" I asked, voice tight with desire.
"Yes," he panted, "please."
I entered him slowly but firmly, feeling him envelop me. Morris released a satisfied sigh that turned into a soft howl, legs wrapping around my waist. I began to move, initially slow and gentle, then more urgently as he urged me on.
His fingers left marks on my back, lips pressed against my neck, breath scorching. We found our rhythm together, the room filling with our gasps and the sound of skin against skin.
"Morris," I whispered against his ear, "you feel incredible."
He responded to my every movement, eyes half-closed and glowing gold, lips parted to reveal slightly elongated canines. I had never seen him so unguarded, so primal, so beautiful.
Our movements became faster, more desperate. His hands gripped the sheets, head thrown back, exposing the elegant line of his throat. I bent to kiss it, feeling his pulse race beneath my lips.
"Noah," he gasped, voice breaking, "I'm going to—"
"Me too," I responded, feeling that familiar heat building.
We reached our peak together, his name on my lips, mine on his—half-spoken, half-howled. In that moment, all complications, all hesitations disappeared, leaving just us, finding each other in the eye of the storm.
As our breathing gradually calmed, I gently collapsed beside him, arm still around him. He turned to me, eyes slowly fading from gold back to their normal color, though the amber flecks remained.
"That wasn't just about the moon or the heat," he said quietly, as if confessing a secret.
I kissed his forehead. "I know. It wasn't just about that for me either."
He rested against my chest, and I felt his heartbeat gradually synchronize with mine. Whatever challenges tomorrow would bring, in this moment, we had found each other. That was enough.
