The work necessary to fully enact his plan wasn't difficult, but it was time consuming. Malcolm had severely underestimated that particular factor, and was sacrificing his sleep to make sure that everything was completed. He’d not stopped for anything for the first three days. And then Ruby forced a sleep regimen by threatening to dominate him if necessary. He bloody hated when she did that. It was a unique ability of vampires that was on his to-do to research. He’d just not gotten around to it. So they compromised on a drug-induced nap. A dose of Lupityrodone, and precisely sixty minutes later, a dose of Molupinil, repeated every twenty-three hours.

He was fatigued, edging exhaustion, but his purpose drove him forward. He was even wearing the same clothes as yesterday, black trousers, and only his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Everything had to go perfectly, and one of the last steps necessary was a meeting with three of the board to clarify his expectations on his projects. Well, perhaps it wasn’t entirely necessary, and perhaps he was delaying the inevitable.

As he made his way to the conference room, he found himself once again looking over restaurants, spas, and resorts. The one thing he’d not settled on was an appropriate act of apology for Ms. Santiago, one that would greatly distract her moving forward so his machinations could be executed smoothly without scrutiny. At least, that was what he told himself when he decided the three-star restaurant wasn’t good enough. He could afford more than that. It wasn’t that she was worth it. The distraction was worth it. For his plan.

He realized someone else was in the room, assuming one of the board members until he looked up and saw her. Malcolm reacted fluidly, turning to leave before they made eye contact, until the ugly blemish that dared mar her flesh caught his eye.

An anger rose right alongside his dark passenger at the very idea that someone had laid their hands on her, and he hardly listened when she spoke. He moved without thought, and her scent filled him, the taint prompting him to grab her hair. His grip was unrelenting as he bent her back, burying his nose in her neck.

The pungent odor of sex and another male tainted her delectable aroma, and a newfound fury took him over entirely, beast and man merging in their actions. The mind of reason had no prior experience with the raging tide, and he had no defense against the spiral of thoughts. Even the heady scent of her arousal flooding the air only fueled his desirous need to prove that she only needed him. Her words fell on deaf ears as he took in the scent, memorizing it so he could hunt the inferior one later, and kill him at his leisure.

“Who is he?” he snarled. It would be much simpler to just gain the man’s name. A quicker hunt, and more time for inflicting torture. Later.

She didn’t have to tell him. He would find him. That was an indisputable fact. Right now, however, for the first time since their initial meeting, he had her in his arms.

Her curves were soft against his chest, and she responded to him so well. A fire coursed through him, anticipation that he finally had her in his clutches. He moved her back until the table stopped them, and he laid claim to her mouth in a savage conquest. There was no civility in the kiss, only a primal claim of possession. It was his first taste of the nectar of her lips, and it exceeded the fantasies he’d was loathe to admit experiencing.

Malcolm laid her back on the table, pushing himself between her legs with a growl. The fabric of his trousers rubbed painfully on his cock, and he pressed the growing bulge against her damp sex in a forceful grind. One hand pushed aside her blazer, and he tore his mouth from hers to move down her body. The dress suffered a rip as he pulled it from her, exposing the full extent of the bruise. A firm pull of her hair caused her to arch towards him, and he nuzzled the wound before laying a gentle kiss over it. A small trail of soft presses led him to her nipple, stiff and wanting with need.

The heat of his mouth closed over the dark bud, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he suckled and teased. As he worshipped her with his lips, his free hand moved between them. Down to where their hips met, their union blocked by the annoyance of clothing. The soft pad of his fingers found her wet heat, gliding along the damp silk of her desire. A soft sound from her prompted the lift of his gaze, watching her expressions with a fascination as he explored her folds. He released her hair only to plant his palm on the table and lean back, needing to see her squirm under his talents.

The pulse fluttering on the side of her throat drew his attention. He moved his free hand to her neck, pressing his thumb into the racing of her heart. It was almost with clinical observation that he took in her reactions, taking in the data of her response to him. Not too hard. Gentle. Human.

A slide of his finger along her slit, the molten need for him causing a shudder of his shoulders before he dipped two digits to the first knuckle into the wet heat. She moaned and squirmed towards him, and he growled for her to still. Slowly, he pressed deeper, until she sheathed his fingers completely within her tight walls. He felt her shiver, and he withdrew only to use her juices as lubrication to tease her clit.

She would know he was superior by the time he was finished with her, and would never want another in her bed.