A muscles twitches in his cheek. This is the part of Mr. X's plan that goes way beyond cybersecurity and credit card numbers.
They're making a play to take down the entire company. The credit card number theft was a diversion from the true infection into backup data, which granted the X team the capacity to wipe out every record stored by SeCure. So asking SeCure to transfer five hundred million dollars to restore the files won't be too much. If successful, it will be the biggest ransomware attack in history. If not, they already stole a half billion in credit card transactions.
~.~
Kylie
At dusk, I limp to the shower to clean up before Jackson shows. He hasn't contacted me all day, and I'm itchy to see him. To touch him. My body feels achy from the sex and my run up the mountain, but all I can think about is having Jackson's hands on me, having him take me roughly the way he wants to-biting me and marking me as his own. It's like the full moon has affected me, too.
The scrapes on my knee look a week old instead of a day. I guess werewolf saliva is better than dog spit.
I spent the day hacking into multiple credit card company sites to get the data on the stolen card numbers. By my estimate, around five hundred million dollars was stolen in the twenty-four hours before the owners were notified and cards frozen. It must have been all automated. Using the small vendors' merchant accounts stolen, they charged random amounts under a few thousand dollars on each credit card. Again, it suggests an insider, someone who knew what data they would find and how it would be configured in order to have pre-programmed such a complex formula.
With no contact from Jackson-although his reasons for limiting it are sound-emptiness sets in. He doesn't think he can be with me. He wants to-I know that much-but he believes he'll harm me.
I'm not afraid, though. He pulled back when I screamed. Went to his belly, even when I gave chase. He has way more control than he believes. And I'm not afraid of being marked. In fact, the idea thrills me. Maybe this is why ordinary men never interested me. I needed a superhuman.
I want to know everything about his shifter life. What it's like, how it works. What happens on the full moon. Which is tonight.
The bathroom door opens and closes, and my heart picks up speed. Through the foggy glass door of the shower, I see Jackson's wide frame. "Jackson?"
A moment later, he slides open the shower door. He's naked, his sheathed erection even more pronounced than it was this morning. Blue eyes burn from his face. His hands ball into fists at his side, his expression dark, furious. Hungry.
I catch my breath. "Jackson?" My voice wobbles.
He steps into the shower with me. I half expect to see elongated fangs when he opens his mouth, and I tense, not sure whether I'm going to let him mark me or not.
"I've wanted to fuck you in the shower since the night you first showed up at my house." His voice is low and gravelly. "You think I didn't see you touching yourself through that fogged-up glass door?"
A shiver of pure desire runs through me, shooting down my inner thighs, curling my toes.
He catches my wrists and spins me to face the shower wall. His touch is reverent as he presses my palms against the tile. "New rule," he murmurs in my ear. "You don't touch that pussy without my permission. Understand?"
I don't, but I'm too turned on to speak.
"I need to hear a yes, sir."
"Yes, sir." The words slip out of me before I even know I'm going to speak them. Heat blooms in my core at the bossy edict.
"Do you know why?" His voice is like a rumbling purr in my ear.
"N-no."
He reaches around to cup my mons, sliding two fingers along my wet slit. "This pussy belongs to me. I get to pleasure it. My job. Got it?"
Oh Jesus, fuck. My legs tremble from desire. I can't do anything but moan my assent.
"Good girl." He rewards me with a quick shimmy of the pad of his finger over my clit.
My knees buckle, but it doesn't matter, because he wraps an arm around my waist, catching me and holding me up as he penetrates me with two fingers. I throw my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, his heat.
"You left me blue-balled this morning, kitten."
I cry out as he grinds the heel of his hand over my clit.
"I'm going to have to punish you, now."
"Yes," I breathe. Punish me. Fuck me. Keep me as your plaything. I want to be owned by Jackson. Marked by him, no matter how much it hurts.
He pulls his hand away from the notch between my thighs, and I moan with disappointment. "Ass out, baby."
I immediately obey, pushing my ass backward for his punishment.
He slaps it, and I shriek. The water makes it sting so much harder; the tile makes the crack of his palm echo. He spanks my other cheek then repeats, right and left. I'm in heaven, the cacophony of sensations-the water of the shower, the pain of his spanks, the pleasure of his touch all mingle to bring me right to the edge of orgasm.
Jackson groans. "Fates, I love spanking you. I ought to take a belt to your ass for the state you left me in today." His voice is a deep rumble that seems to enter my body through every pore.
When I don't disagree, he curses. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, kitten, you won't be able to walk right. Then you'll remember who this pussy belongs to."
I steal a glance over my shoulder, checking for fangs. The domination is hot, but it's also way over the top, tonight, and I'm not sure if he's in control. When I shift my weight, the pain in my ankle twinges.