~ ~ Present Day ~ ~

What the fuck was I supposed to do about this huge pile of monkey shit that had landed on my desk?

I flicked through the seven-page report, for the third time. The club known as Nightmare—which was fucking living up to its name, was clearly saying I had a vampire problem here in London.

What the fuck?

I still couldn't believe Wolfe Industries had turned into a bureau for all things supernatural, thanks to my brother.

Cheers, Zander. Fucking Waster. I would put it on my to do list to kick his arse when he next returned from the US.

Groaning. I scrubbed a hand across my forehead. I missed the good ole days when I just had wolves to worry about. Refocusing, my eyes reread...blood loss. Fucking Vampires. This was my first run-in with those pasty-faced wankers—I mean weren't they supposed to live in Transylvania or so other weird place I couldn't spell?

As if having wolves and Charles DuPonte messed up experiments, turning up wasn't enough to deal with.

Yeah, just my fucking luck I'd have a troll or dragon problem added to the shit-pile next.

My wolf grumbled. Yeah, you're right, mate.  I shouldn't joke about that. Fingers crossed those things were still only in fiction.

I reread the paragraph. Two more girls missing.

Those pasty-faced blood sucking arseholes were luring young girls and doing god only knows what to them.

My phone vibrated with a calendar alert.

Fuck!

It was almost ten pm. I'd missed the twins' story time. They'd be fucking pissed off with me in the morning. Thank fuck, Ruben wasn't old enough to know yet what a wanker his dad was. Not that the twins thought I was a wanker. They loved me.

Sage said I was too soft on them, always letting them have their own way, but honestly, I couldn't help myself. Olivia couldn't use her gifts on me, but those baby blue eyes had me wrapped around her little finger. And David, well, he was already too smart for his own good and for some crazy fucked up reason - just wanted to be like his dad.

Fukin' god help the world if that happens.

But what the fuck could I do? I had no assistant—again. Sylar hadn't returned from the states like he'd promised, but I couldn't blame the kid, he had a family of his own now.  And Misha was out there visiting him with Gavin, her mate but he was as useful as a fart in a tin can anyway.

So I had no fucker to help run this place, and I didn't want to ask Sage. She loved being a mum and spending as much time as possible with our kids.

And no fucking way was I taking that from her to come and work here all day. Mind you, I could fuck her whenever the mood took us.

Stop being a selfish arsehole...Old habits die hard.

And Zander was no fucking help either, but yeah, he had the US to look out for. The UK was small fry in his books.

So yeah, it's fair to say I'm stressed to fuck, and I would rather be anywhere other than here. And to top it off. It's my fucking birthday tomorrow. "Fuck." I pushed the papers on the desk to one side and leant back in my chair.

Rocking slightly, I wondered what Sage was doing. Knackered, my eyes closed. Just five minutes. Then I'd finish sorting a plan for the escalating vampire problem and head home.

Hopefully, Sage would let me fuck her... and if I was lucky, she'd wear that hot little lacy number she bought a few weeks back.

My eyes popped open, and I reached for my mobile and fired off a message.

Hey it was worth asking, yeah?

She'd either say fuck off or oui. You knew the answer I'm hoping for! Oui, fucking oui.

Oh yeah, that's something I'd rather think about. Balls deep in Sage.  My dick lengthened.

Throwing my phone down, my eyes fell closed.

"—Mr Stone." I heard a whisper. "Mon coeur, Mr Stone."

There it was again. A French accent.

Shit. Had I fallen asleep?

Going to open my eyes. My eyelashes pressed against something....something soft, silky.

Not being worried, I sniffed, and I didn't need to see to know who it was. Her delicious scent and subtle French accent give the game away.

My wife, my Mate... Sage.

And kinky. I was already loving this.

My wolf whimpered. Down boy! Don't think you're being let loose! She ends up pregnant every time you get your paws on her.

Fuck yeah, I was dreaming or I've done something right today. "Keep talking in French, baby, you're making him hard."

"Tout pour vous mon amour." I inched back into my chair, and she straddled my lap. I raised my hand to have them slapped away. "Non! Don't make me tie them to the chair, Mr Stone. Bad boys don't get to touch, Oui."

I lifted them in surrender. "You won't get any trouble from me, baby."

She leant in and bit my bottom lip, growling. I went to kiss her, but she pulled back as her deft fingers unbuttoned my shirt.

Fuck yeah.

Her hair brushed along my chest as she licked across my nipple, sucking it into her mouth. It forced a breath from me. "Fuck, nice—" she bit a little harder. I hissed through my teeth.

Her small hands unbuckled my belt, and my zipper was slowly teased down. My dick was throbbing like a bitch in heat, straining hard to get out.

She shifted slightly. "Up!" she commanded. Nice. I liked it when she's demanding.

I did as I'm told and raised my arse so she can slide my pants... oh and my boxes down. No point in doing one without the other. Pants around my ankles, dick free, he's now pressed against my stomach.  And the soft leather is nice on my arse, although if she carries on, no doubt I will stick to it.

But fuck it.

I'd rather have to peel my sticky arse from it than make her stop and ask her to get on the table. But the idea of her on all fours on my beautiful Georgian desk.

Nice.

I almost drooled as the image burned behind my shut eyes. A groan escaped and stupidly she read my thoughts.

"Na-ah, you're being punished. There will be no getting me on your desk tonight, Mr Stone."

Her hand wrapped around my dick, and he twitched.

Fuck, yeah. "Baby, if this is a punishment, then tell me what I did wrong so I can do it again tomorrow."

She giggled but didn't answer.

"Tell me what you want," she asked.

Fuck, but seeing as she ruled out her getting on all fours...next best thing. "Your mouth on me, baby, sucking my dick dry."

She licked up the side of my throat, up to my ear, nipping my ear lobe. "Gladly, but remember no hands."

She's off my lap and spreads my thighs and in my head, I could see her sinking to her knees, her hot little pink tongue licking those full lips I fucking loved so much.

A second later, her tongue licked across my head as I swallowed - hard.

Fuckin' hell,

I wanted to push in as she teased me mercilessly. "That's so good, yeah." I was practically panting. "He's all yours."

Her small fingers curled around the base of my shaft, as her other hand reached under and cupped my heavy balls.

Slowly, inch by inch, she swallowed him. This was cruel. I wanted to see her lips wrapped around my dick and I had to grip the chair to stop my hand from ripping away whatever she had used to cover them.

Then her mouth pulled away.

What the? About to protest.

"Happy Birthday Hunter."

My lip curled up as her hot mouth returned to my dick... and swallowed.

I sighed. Happy fucking birthday to me