by Alexa Riley
“Your legs wrapped around my hips of their own free will just a moment ago.” Morgan couldn’t respond. Not with his hot eyes tracking over her and leaving fire in their wake. “Tell me what you would do with your future. If the decision was yours alone.”
Her entire life had been mapped out by overzealous parents. She’d never actually taken the time to prod her own aspirations without factoring in their wishes. “I…would travel. I would find a place and learn its secrets through the lens of my camera. And I’d just be on my own schedule. No one to impress. No time constraints.”
This admission seemed to please Rixen. Greatly. A smile played around the corners of his powerful mouth as he stood and pushed the plate of bread closer to her. “It makes me happy to see you eat food I prepared. Please keep going.”
Morgan watched Rixen move about the kitchen, his tight, thick butt muscles moving underneath the worn denim of his jeans. God, he really was extraordinary. The original man. Built to fight off dinosaurs and fend for his kin. Before she knew it, Morgan had picked up the camera and started taking snaps of him at the kitchen sink, his forearms flexing as he washed a pan. It took a few minutes for him to notice what she was doing. His double take was comical. He pressed a finger to his broad chest as if to say, who? Me?
She sighed. “You really don’t realize how unique you are, do you?”
His confused expression made her chest hurt. Words rose in Morgan’s throat. Reassurances of his appeal, despite his ferocious size. She also had a few names to call the women who’d been mean to him in town—wherever the hell this place’s version of “town” was. But before she could speak, she remembered how easily he’d nixed her college plans, as if they didn’t matter. As if the only thing that mattered now was being his live-in booty call.
His gift.
“Every subject is unique in its own way,” she said in a rush, lowering her camera.
When he dropped his head in disappointment and went back to straightening the kitchen Morgan wished with all her might she could take it back.
Chapter Six
Rixen
Rixen couldn’t stem the flow of pride in his chest as he guided Morgan through the bayou. Sure, no humans were around to witness them walking to his brother’s house, but every time she tucked into his side or gripped his hand, he wanted to pound his chest with satisfaction. Mine. It didn’t matter that she reacted out of fear to every rustle in the bushes or chirp in the trees, she was seeking comfort from him. And that was a start.
Just a start, it seemed. Morgan might have let Rixen own her body in the dark last night, might have agreed to be his in her sweet, breathy voice, but she was back to being hesitant this morning. Could he blame her, though? He might have spent every day of his adult life waiting for Morgan, but she clearly hadn’t done the same for him. That was hard to accept when he needed her so fucking badly, but he would accept the challenge. There was no other option, because letting her go would be tantamount to death, now that he’d spent time in her presence, tasted her skin and mouth. Witnessed her spirit.
He looked down at Morgan where she sidestepped a dead plant in her insubstantial sandals. Flip-flops, she called them. She needed boots. Pants. Protection from the elements. But he was too scared to leave and procure these much-needed items for her, fearing she would run. No, not fearing. Knowing. And if they traveled to town together, his courageous girl would tell everyone he was holding her against her will.
He was, wasn’t he? He was keeping a woman prisoner, whether he was being nice to her or not. That reality weighed heavily as they neared his brother’s home, the smell of a wood fire reaching and filling his nose. What if Morgan never came around to the idea of remaining with him? Would he hold such a beautiful free spirit in the swamp forever?
“What’s the frowny face about?” asked Morgan.
Rixen forced his brow to smooth. “I was thinking you should be dressed in finer clothing,” he hedged, the lie singeing his tongue like acid. “The weather is unpredictable here and you’re clothed for the beach.”
Morgan looked down at her jean shorts and tank top. He’d done his best to launder them, but after he’d ripped her bikini to shreds last night, her tits were free to bounce around at the neckline, her nipples all but visible through the sheer material. He couldn’t even think about her bare pussy inside the shorts without panting, his cock lifting and getting caught in the waistband of his jeans. Bringing his woman around other men without her body covered to his liking was going to prove extremely difficult, but he’d been left with little choice. His clothes draped around her like a nightgown and she’d only scoffed when he’d suggested it.
“When we reach my brother’s house, I will ask if you can borrow some clothes. Just until I’m able to make a trip to town.”
A tree rustled above and Morgan jumped, throwing herself into his side. “You had everything else ready. An extra toothbrush, scented lotion, your sexual expertise. Why no clothes?”
Rixen’s face colored. “I thought you would arrive more prepared.”
“Like maybe God would send me with a little suitcase full of essentials?”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“No.” She surprised Rixen by winking up at him. “You’ve been really sweet to me, as far as kidnappers go. You get a glowing report.”
Was she flirting with him or being sarcastic? If only he’d studied books about female behavior, maybe he wouldn’t be so lost right now. He nodded to the camera around her neck. “Do you want to take some pictures, my gift?”
“I’m dying to. This place is kind of scary, but…it’s eerily pretty.” She blew out a breath and let go of his hand to point into the distance. “See how those shafts of sunlight split apart the trees. I want to shoot it from, like, ninety angles. Different exposures.”
Rixen’s earlier hope returned. When they sat at the kitchen table and she’d confided about her desire to learn a location’s secrets and photograph it, he’d started to glimpse possibilities. Yes, the swamp could be an intimidating place, but he knew from experience people could adapt. Rixen was born to this land, along with his brothers. But some came here to escape the demands of society, others were brought here—like his sisters-in-law. Once Morgan knew how to navigate the Everglades in a safe manner, she could learn to call it home. Even learn to be happy. With him. “Go. I would like to watch you work.”
Excitement danced in her features. “Won’t we be late?”
He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “You are most important, Morgan.”
They stared at one another for a long moment and Rixen’s heart started to pound triple time, his intuition telling him Morgan was beginning to feel something for him. Why else would that pulse at the base of her neck be fluttering so fast, her eyes softer than usual as their bodies moved closer, closer beneath the trees. As if gravity wouldn’t allow for anything else. Before he could bend forward and kiss her exquisite mouth, though, she danced away and began taking pictures, her skin noticeably flushed.
Rixen did his best to content himself watching Morgan crouch down and go up on her toes to catch different angles, even though his cock was a stiff rod inside his jeans. At one point, she couldn’t get high enough for a shot, so Rixen threw her up on one shoulder. It felt so good providing a place for her to rest, he continued the remaining distance to his brother’s house with Morgan seated there. Her creamy, naked thighs so close to his mouth did nothing to ease his aroused condition, but the sound of her giggle sent a happy jolt to his heart.
That happy jolt waned when his youngest brother answered the door, a toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth. The little piece of wood fell to the ground when he caught sight of Morgan, his posture going from lazy to alert. “This…” Rod started. “This is your bride, Rixen?”
Morgan shifted from her perch. “Bride?”
The awe in Rod’s voice had not pleased him. In fact, nothing about his brothers pleased him, but they were fa
mily and Rixen, as the oldest, refused to shirk his commitment to them. It was written in blood, whether he liked it or not. “Yes.” He let Morgan slide off his shoulder, catching her against his chest. “She is mine.”
His middle brother, Gus, joined Rod in the doorway. “No way.” He gave a rasping laugh. “Is she blind or some shit?”
“Yeah.” Both brothers doubled over, laughing in earnest now. “She couldn’t have actually seen you, brother.”
Gus took a step closer—too close—and Rixen growled, curving his body around Morgan protectively. “Blink twice if you’re being held against your will,” Gus said on the tail end of a guffaw. “Girl looks like you, she has to have better options. Any other options.”
Dread settled in Rixen’s belly. This was it. Morgan was going to seek aid from his own brothers. The men who’d been ridiculing him since they learned how to speak. Since they realized he was bigger and uglier than everyone else. Instead, Moran skirted around Rixen and extended her hand toward Gus and Rod. “I’m Morgan. The gift. Nice to meet you.” She shook both of their hands. “Now if you’re finished being dicks, maybe you could invite us in?”
Chapter Seven
Morgan
As they ate their meal, Morgan quickly saw what was happening in this corner of the swamp. Rixen’s brothers were awful people. Truly awful. They poked fun at Rixen, insulting him, trying to get a rise out of him. And he never once took the bait, simply making sure Morgan had everything she needed, watching her eat with affection written on his features.
Gus and Rod were jealous of their older brother. It was obvious. He was bigger, smarter, smelled better, had more patience and the sweeter crib. Even their wives, who mostly remained quiet in the midst of their husbands’ obnoxious mealtime antics, seemed relieved to have Rixen around. As if he was proof that men could be decent, even if theirs couldn’t.
For Morgan’s part, she was really beginning to get pissed.
Around the tenth time Gus and Rod commented on Rixen’s new bride obviously being held under duress—because no sane woman would want such a monster—she came to a decision. They were going to eat their words. Today. Fine, she was being held against her will, but not in the way they suggested. As if she’d been clubbed and dragged back to a cave, chained there and treated like a prisoner. It hadn’t been like that.
Rixen treated her like a princess.
Guilt moved in as the plates were cleared from the table. She hadn’t exactly been nice to Rixen, either, since they’d met. On the way there, she’d even called him a kidnapper. Meanwhile he’d paraded her around the bayou on his slab of muscle shoulder and told her she was important. More than that, he listened to her. Asked her what she wanted. When had anyone ever done that for her and meant it?
“We’ve got a leaking pipe under the sink,” said Gus’s wife. “I’ll just bring these out back to the creek.”
“I’ll help,” said Rod’s wife with a long-suffering sigh, rising from the table.
Morgan knew she should offer to help, but she had work to do.
Rixen pushed back from the table. “I’ll take a look at the pipe.”
The woman of the house smiled. “Oh, thank you, Rix—”
“Don’t need you looking at the pipe in my own house,” Rod sneered, bashing a fist off the table. “I said I would get around to the fucking thing.” The wives of the men didn’t comment, simply leaving the small home while the men faced off across the table. “Don’t worry about my responsibilities. Worry about your woman leaving your ugly ass behind as soon as she gets the chance.”
Gus piped in. “Maybe she forgot what she looks like, since your face done broke all the mirrors hanging in your house.” He leered at Morgan and she heard a low growl kindling in Rixen’s throat. “I’m here to remind you, sweetheart, you are f—”
Morgan lunged to her feet, sensing that if Gus finished that sentence, his wife was going to be cleaning up a lot more than plates. Like a crime scene. “Rixen, can I talk to you in private?” She went to him and danced her fingers up his chest. “Please?”
The P word seemed to grab his attention. “Are you feeling okay?”
Fine, so she could stand to be a little more polite if saying please made him question her health. “Actually, I…” She crooked her finger for him to lower his head. “I need you to hold me,” she whispered in his ear, feeling her nipples peak inside her tank top at the truth of her words. “I miss you touching me.”
His chest moved like a shifting mountain range. “You do?”
“Yes.” She wound her arms around his neck, settling her body against him, dragging it side to side. “I don’t think I can wait until we get home.”
Rixen’s erection rose so quickly, she gasped, moisture trickling between her legs and dampening the seam of her shorts. She could feel both brothers watching in stupefied silence and grew even more determined to make them feel like idiots. Yeah, her method was kind of naughty and unconventional. But she was probably never going to see them again, right? It wouldn’t hurt to give Rixen this moment to hold close next time they treated their own brother like an outcast.
“Morgan…” Rixen started in his charred cigar ashes voice. “We are not alone.”
“I know.” She hit him with a pleading pout and he caved, right then and there, his jaw slackening, eyes molten. “I want you inside me. You feel so good there.”
She was ripped from the floor with a growl, carried against Rixen’s heaving chest to what she assumed was the closest bedroom. His loud strides thundered on the floorboards, a satisfying silence following them from the dining room.
That’s right, bitches. Rixen is about to get it.
“When you speak to me like this, Morgan, I fear for my self-control.” He buttonhooked into a dark room and kicked the door shut, throwing her up against it. Hard. And volcanic heat stole through Morgan having his giant body pin her there. She felt small and feminine and breakable with her feet dangling off the ground—it thrilled her. Made the flesh between her legs quicken, searching for its new…mate. Mate. Had she just thought that word without a single hesitation? How could such a primal word possibly feel so right?
But it did. When Rixen’s big, hungry sex welded itself to the juncture of her thighs and he began thrusting, fucking her through their clothes against the door, she felt animalistic. Willing prey for a godlike predator. Slamslamslam he dry-humped her into the hard lumber, snarling filthy curse words into her neck.
“I want to give,” Morgan whimpered. “I want you to take.”
“No. No, my gift. The beast is already taking over.” He ground into her hard, his teeth snapping at her bottom lip and catching it. “I had no control when you were scared. But this? You wanting me…asking for me? My restraint is no match for such a miracle.”
His admission reminded Morgan of her mission to make Rixen understand his appeal. To believe how worthy he was, despite what his brothers had made him believe. She wiggled her way down to her knees, which turned out was quite a drop. Thankfully, Rixen caught her under the arms at the last second, easing her down to the floorboards. There she was, kneeling in front of a man. A humongous man. His erection jutted crudely against his fly, a spreading damp spot marking the tip. Christ. It was massive. How could her small, inexperienced mouth possibly give him what he needed?
Rixen attempted to draw her to her feet once again. “You must not, Morgan. I haven’t even allowed myself to imagine fucking your little mouth.” His stomach shuddered, he groaned loudly, and more moisture appeared on the lap of his jeans. “I will lick you instead. I am starved for you.”
“No, I want this,” she whispered, gathering her courage and unfastening his jeans, swallowing heavily when his manhood sprang free, purple and angry looking. It was just like the rest of Rixen. Fearsome, but beautiful in its vulnerability. It needed her. Morgan scooted forward on her knees and took Rixen in her mouth, forcing her lips to stretch wide enough to accept the head. Saltiness greeted her tongue and coasted down her
throat. Rixen fell forward and braced himself on the door, forming a manmade bridge of muscle above her.
Damn. He was…glorious. As she suckled him, her hands lifting to stroke in twisting motions, his ten-pack abs flexed and shook, his nipples crowning into hard points. Best seat in the house, she thought in a daze, his taste beginning to consume her. It was brutally male and tangy and…addictive. Along with his short, bursting groans and the awestruck way he watched Morgan take his flesh into her mouth, she started enjoying herself. A lot.
Her breaths came faster and faster through her nose, her hands moving quicker, greased by his spurts of come. His sweat. Her saliva. The combination of all three covered her lips as she sank him deeper, farther toward her throat with every effort. On the other side of the door, she heard floorboards creak, but couldn’t have cared less by that point. This stolen time together might have started as a way to give Gus and Rod the middle finger, but now it was only about Rixen. Her. Them together. Feeding this fever.
“Is this how you want Daddy to tuck you in at night?” The fingers of Rixen’s right hand tangled in her hair. His hips crowded her until the back of her head was trapped on the door, Rixen’s hand cushioning it against the hardness. “Answer me with your eyes.”
Feeling as though she’d slipped into a trance, Morgan looked up at Rixen with pleading eyes, massaging the underside of his meaty arousal with her tongue. Yes. I want that.
“You’ll never know another’s taste but mine. Nod your pretty little head to let me know you understand.” He pushed deeper than ever, nudging the very back of her throat. “That cock filling your mouth is your breeder. I am your breeder. Know my taste.”
Oh my god. Morgan’s inner walls clenched so hard, she cried out around Rixen’s erection, her fingers growing restless on his thighs. She needed him. Already she was dancing toward the edge of the precipice, thanks to his possessiveness. Is this what she wanted? To be owned by this man and made to have his babies? Yes. Yes. In this moment, she could want nothing more. She made a mewling sound and his hard flesh left her mouth, the absence of her anchor making her pitch sideways on her knees.
