The crowd remained deathly quiet.
Only the sound of his rough breaths reached his ears as he lumbered onto his feet, as he stumbled backwards, unable to believe what he had done. He had killed him.
He had killed Klaus.
Grace was avenged.
Winnie was safe.
Maverick threw his head back and roared.
The cheers of the crowd and the adrenaline of winning were like a high, transporting him back to all the times he had fought in the arena. He stared at the crowd, relishing their chants, their excitement. It was like a drug to him.
A drug he had been addicted to.
An addiction he thought he had shaken.
But it hooked him again in a heartbeat.
“Collar on,” someone said over the PA system.
Excitement instantly flooded him, his aches forgotten as he reached for the bloodstained collar and his mind raced forwards. He easily obeyed, snapped the collar back in place as a different sort of hunger surged through him.
The door opened and he strode towards it, entered the tunnel and didn’t slow his pace, his eyes locked on the door at the other end of it.
His skin felt too tight as his blood rushed, his body primed for a good, hard release, hungry for a soft female. As much as he tried to deny that darker part of himself he had courted in this underground world, he couldn’t shake the fierce need that gripped him.
The door ahead of him opened and he stepped into the holding room.
When it closed behind him, the other door buzzed.
Maverick was laser-focused on it in a heartbeat, hunger swelling inside him, making him rock hard in an instant.
Only it was Bronwyn they pushed into the room.
Bronwyn wearing only that black robe.
The thought that she was bare beneath it inflamed him, had him growing harder, eager to toss her onto the table and take her.
He couldn’t.
“Maverick!” She went to run to him, her eyes lighting up with relief he could sense in her together with concern as they catalogued his injuries.
Maverick growled at her and backed away when she stopped, drawing up short of him, a worried look crossing her face.
“Leave,” he snarled, fear closing his throat, pounding inside him as fiercely as the hunger. “I can’t be near you right now. I can’t.”
He would hurt her. He would show his true colours to her.
And she would never want to see him again.
She blinked.
“Leave!” he roared, barely holding himself back as the urge to sweep her into his arms grew stronger, pressing him to surrender to it. “Now!”
She tensed and backed off a step, fear flittering across her delicate features.
She looked over her shoulder at the door.
It slammed shut.
Chapter 15
Maverick stormed to the door and banged his fists against the featureless metal panel. “Let her out!”
Anger and frustration mingled with the fear running through his veins, amping it up and giving his needs a firmer grip on him. Bronwyn didn’t help matters.
She took a step towards him and softly whispered, “Maverick.”
He snarled and bashed the door, raining blows down on it that had the sides of his fists aching. When that didn’t work and the rage, the despair, got the better of him, he punched it. Flat out punched it as hard as he could. His knuckles burned with each blow, the sound of metal being struck echoing in his ears together with his own harsh breaths.
“Maverick, stop!”
Bronwyn took another step towards him, her desperation hitting him hard, together with her fear. She feared him. He pressed his palms to the door, his hands throbbing, and leaned forwards, not caring when his forehead struck the cold metal.
“Open the door. Don’t do this.” He sounded bleak even to his own ears, was deeply aware of her gaze on his bare back as he sagged against the door, his fight leaving him as despair swallowed him.
He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want her to see that part of himself, a side he thought had died a long time ago, but it was still within him.
Still had control of him.
Just the scent of Bronwyn was enough to have him rock solid in his shorts, primed for a hard fuck. He pressed his forehead into the door and screwed his eyes shut, cursing the hunters for doing this.
Cursing her brother.
The bastard knew the sort of male Maverick was, must have witnessed it for himself after a fight. The hunters had never been subtle about watching them in the holding rooms. One wall of the security room had been thick toughened glass and the monitors had faced it, revealing everything to anyone passing by.
Maverick banged against the door again as his rage roared back to the fore, provoked by the thought her brother would subject her to this side of him, that he would do this to her when she loved him. Andrew had it all wrong, was caught up in some lie he had made himself believe, thought that Winnie didn’t need him because he wasn’t strong enough, that she had rejected him. He didn’t deserve her love, but he had it.
“What’s wrong?” she murmured and moved closer to him.
“Stay away from me,” he growled and paced away from her, feeling like a caged animal.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, not even to see the hurt that would be shining in her eyes. Hurt he had caused with his vicious words. He didn’t want to push her away. He didn’t want to hurt her.
But he had to.
It was for her own good.
Her scent was driving him crazy and awareness of her ran deep in his veins, rousing his blood and his primal instincts, pushing him to dominate her. Gods, he was so hard for her, and part of him knew it wasn’t just because of the victory high or the fact he had trained his body to expect release after he had won in the cage.
He wanted her so badly.
And her brother and the hunters knew it.
This was punishment, for both of them.
Andrew wanted him to attack her and take her, to treat her as he had all those other females in the past. Her brother wanted him to ruin things between them, and he wanted to hurt her, making her believe she had been wrong to turn her back on him. Andrew wanted to take everything from both of them and destroy them.
Maverick flicked a glare at the camera mounted in one corner of the room and roared at it.
“I’m getting out of this cell and I’m going to fucking murder you for doing this.” He breathed hard, desperately trying to calm himself as he stared at the camera, but he couldn’t. His body expected release, and the longer he left it, the worse it would get.
He had tried to deny himself pleasure before, had made the hunters take the female away, thinking he could overcome his addiction. In the end he had been a wreck, had been aching so hard for a fix that he had gotten into fights with everyone and had found himself in solitary. The hunters had brought another female to him, and he had been rougher than usual with her.
He couldn’t be rough with Winnie.
He didn’t want to be that male with her.
Maverick cursed himself this time. This was all his fault. He had courted this side of himself, had let himself grow used to this pattern, and now he couldn’t shake it. Two decades and he fell back into his old ways in a heartbeat. What hope was there for him?
He wanted to be a gentle male for Winnie. He wanted to be a good male. Tonight had proven he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell of making that happen.
Rage turned to despair again, to hopelessness that pulled him down, had him storming to the camera and leaping for it. He growled as he ripped the damned thing from the wall, as he utterly destroyed it.
Snarled as he pivoted and paced away from the wreckage.
Bronwyn’s gaze tracked him. “What’s wrong, Maverick?”
He turned on her, a little too sharply judging by how she tensed and plastered herself against the wall close to the door. He sighed and eased back a step,
closed his eyes and hung his head.
“This is torture… I can’t take it,” he whispered. “Just… stay over there. Maybe I can get myself under control.”
He wasn’t sure that he could. In fact, he knew he couldn’t, was only fooling himself by thinking this was going to end well. The dark urge to sink himself between her thighs was only growing stronger as the seconds trickled past at an agonisingly slow rate.
When her gaze dropped to his body and softened, worry filling her eyes, he stormed to the table and grabbed his jeans. He used them as a cloth, rubbing the blood away, not wanting her to see him like this, and aware that she would want to come to him and take care of him if he didn’t clean up. He needed her to keep her distance.
He didn’t feel the sting of the cuts or the ache of the bruises as he cleaned himself up, felt only the pounding need building inside him as he grew hyper-aware of her where she lingered near the door. Her scent swirled around him, tormenting him, worsening his need.
“Is this about what you used to do after fights?” Those softly spoken words rolled over him and knocked him off-balance all over again.
Maverick snapped his head up and stared at her as shock swept through him, making him cold to the bone.
His blood was like ice in his veins as he stared at her.
“You know about that?” He lowered his hand and his jeans fell from it as he struggled to believe she did.
She averted her gaze, a blush climbing her cheeks as she toyed with the cuff of her robe, and whispered, “I do.”
Anger blazed up his blood, shame swift to follow it, making him feel dirty and tainted, and gods, she would never want him now. She knew the things he had done back then, when he had been fresh from a fight, high on the thrill of it.
He really was no good for her.
“How do you know about it?” he snapped, not angry at her, angry at himself.
She lifted her head and stared at him, not a trace of fear in her honey-coloured eyes as they locked with his. “Because you tried to hide it from me?”
He had. He had never wanted her to know about what he did, had always made sure to avoid her until he had showered and calmed down. Usually, that had meant he didn’t see her until the day after he had fought.
She held his gaze, looking bold and courageous, stirring his blood all over again. She had grown up beautiful and strong, but not strong enough to handle him. Beneath that façade of courage was the same gentle Winnie he had known back then, the same tender and caring female.
“You could stop me from seeing that side of you, but you couldn’t stop some of the others from talking about it.” She dropped her hands to her sides and bluntly said, “Rumours spread about you and I was curious. One night I was passing the security room and… I saw.”
Sickness brewed in his stomach like hot acid, scouring his insides.
Bronwyn took a step towards him, determination flashing in her eyes.
Maverick held his hand up to stop her and backed off, trying to place more distance between them, some foolish part of him hoping it would be enough to allow him to rein in his dark desires.
But his bare back hit the wall.
No escape.
He flicked a desperate look at the door. “Open it! Let her go.”
As expected, no one answered.
“They’re not going to let us out until we—are they?” Bronwyn slid a look at the door and then him.
The fact that she couldn’t bring herself to talk about screwing him compounded the feeling that she didn’t want him, that she knew what a monster he was now and she was no longer interested in him. He tried to shake off the hurt, but it refused to go, whispered taunts in his mind and carved a hole in his heart.
She glanced at the broken camera. “They can’t see us. Maybe we can pretend we had sex?”
Maverick countered, “I doubt that’s the only camera in the room. It’s the only one we can see.”
He shook his head when she advanced a step.
“Don’t.” Control was a fragile thing for him and her scent was driving him crazy.
The urge to grab her and take her was strong, only with her it was different. He didn’t just want to throw her on the table and spend himself inside her, using her to slake his hunger and give himself a fix.
He wanted to kiss her.
He wanted to savour her and do things right, even when he wasn’t sure what right was or whether he was capable of it at that moment.
“I can’t do this,” he husked. “We can’t do this.”
Her brow furrowed, hurt flaring in her golden eyes now. “Because you don’t want me?”
“Gods, no. I want you… more than you can know… and that’s the reason I can’t do this. I don’t want to hurt you, Bronwyn.” His shoulders slumped and he sagged back against the wall. “If you know the rumours, if you really saw me, then you know how rough I am with females. You know that I’m… not right. There’s something seriously wrong with me.”
And for one beautiful moment back at Black Ridge, he had thought he could overcome it, had been relieved by her promise they would take things slow, believing it was all he needed to change himself for the better.
She braved another step towards him. “There’s no way out of this. Unless you plan for us to stay here until we both starve to death?”
Maverick didn’t think he could last that long. The need beating inside him was only growing stronger and sooner or later, he was going to snap. Already, the clarity the sight of her had given him was fading, his thoughts blurring to nothing as primal instincts seized control.
He feared what would happen if he risked waiting, and was terrified of what he might do if he surrendered to his urges.
There was no way for him to win, and no way for her to get out of this unscathed.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, defeated. “I should have known they’d pull some shit like this.”
Bronwyn shook her head, causing the soft spikes of her pixie cut to brush her neck. “Don’t be sorry.”
She slowly walked towards him, completely unravelling his resolve and tearing down his strength as she undid the belt of her robe and let it fall open, baring her curves to him.
He stared at her, his brow furrowing. “You don’t want to do this.”
She smiled softly.
“I do want to do this.”
Her eyes warmed as she gazed at him.
“I’ve always wanted you, Maverick.”
Chapter 16
Bronwyn was nervous as heck, but she refused to let it show as she stood before Maverick, bared to him, every inch of her aware of his eyes on her. Her skin felt too hot and tight as she waited for him to say something or do something, whether it was to push her away or take her into his arms. She had wanted this for so long, and she knew it wasn’t the way he wanted things to be between them, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She trusted him.
He needed her.
The evidence of that was clear as day in his shorts.
Heat scalded her cheeks as she glanced at the outline of his erection, seeped into her blood as she raked her gaze up the ropes of his stomach, slowing to savour the sight of him. Her eyes snagged on every bruise and cut that marred his honed muscles and worry flooded her veins, but it wasn’t strong enough to win against the fire that seared her as she recalled how majestic he had been in the cage. The thought of watching him fighting had sickened her at first, but the moment he had sprung into action, fear had fallen away and she had been mesmerised. Every blow he had landed had stoked a powerful and primal response in her, had aroused her and flooded her with a fierce, aching need that only he could sate.
So when she said she wanted him, she really wanted him. She had never been more on fire for him.
This wasn’t quite the way she had imagined their first time would go, but they had no choice. They could have a do-over once they were free, could start again if he needed that.
Maverick’s grey eyes raked over her, his pupils dilat
ing to darken them with hunger that excited her, had her pulse pounding faster and her body coming alive, eager for his touch.
On a low, thrilling growl, he swept her into his arms and turned with her, pinned her against the wall and kissed her hard, immediately proving how different he was to the male he had once been. He had never kissed the females he had been with after the fights.
She melted into it, relaxing so he didn’t sense her nerves. She didn’t want him to mistake them for fear of him. She wasn’t nervous about doing this.
She was nervous about the fact they were being watched.
She pushed that to the back of her mind as she gripped Maverick’s shoulders and kissed him.
It wasn’t hard to forget everything but him existed when he palmed her bare bottom and lifted her, slid between her thighs and made her wrap her legs around his waist. He groaned as he pressed against her, every delicious, hard inch of his body meeting hers delighting her too.
When he shifted his hands closer together, she gasped and shivered. His fingers brushed her plush petals again, sending another thrill chasing through her, and when he growled, that thrill turned to fire that burned up her blood, turning her inhibitions to ashes.
She closed her eyes and sank against the wall as he stroked her, teasing her, another feral growl pealing from his lips. She knew the reason for that hungry snarl. She was slick for him, had been aching for him from the moment she had been pushed into the room and had found herself standing in the middle of her dream of him.
Only this time it was real.
He removed one hand from her and tightened his grip with the other, holding her in place, and her heart drummed as he shoved at his shorts, anticipation swirling like a maelstrom inside her as she realised what he was doing. She dropped her gaze between them, bit back a groan as she saw a flash of his hard cock as he fisted it, and then he pressed forwards, stealing himself from view.
She cried out as he pinned her to the wall and guided himself into her, as the blunt head breached her and he drove forwards, claiming her in one forceful thrust.
Awakened by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Shifter Romance Series Book 5) Page 14
