Match Me Later (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 4)

by Rachael Slate

  Her claws.

  She dug them into his flesh. “Don’t you dare.” Panting, she shoved him forward, deeper inside her.

  “Megan…” He sighed and bowed his head. This was not what he’d planned. Innocent? What the hell kind of fox spirit was a virgin? Unless. Oh. She was a newbie. Young and inexperienced, even though she oozed seduction.

  “You can’t stop now.” She closed her mouth, inhaling through her nose, and he grew even harder. Fox spirits controlled a male’s desire, which for them, really, was a survival adaptation.

  Still, the uninhibited impulse had died off. Being with a virgin wasn’t without strings, not for him. “Are you…sure?”

  “Of course,” she grated from between clenched teeth. “I want you. I choose this. If you won’t man up to the job, I’ll find someone else.”

  “The fuck you will.” Her threat unhinged his control. He gripped her hips and sank deeper, until he was seated inside her. Inching backward, he gently rolled his hips. She was nothing like what he’d expected, but some dark place inside him couldn’t bear for her to choose someone else.

  This night was his. She’d chosen him to initiate her, and damn, he would. From this moment onward, it would be on his terms. He’d make this memorable—for the both of them. A night neither of them would ever forget, and to hell with the morning. He prayed it would never come.

  First things first, he wasn’t taking her against the wall while still wearing his fucking pants. He pulled out of her, swung her around into his arms, and carried her to his bedroom. After setting her on her feet in front of the king-size bed, he feathered his fingertips along her collarbone and across her arm. Shifting behind her, he teased down the zipper of her dress, baring her smooth, silken skin. He yearned to be back inside her like he craved his next breath, but he’d take his time with her. The torment would be worth the wait.

  She twisted, squirming, but he blocked her. “No, we do this my way.”

  “You’re not supposed to. I’m not supp—”

  He closed his hand over her mouth. “Forget about the rules. Trust me, and you’ll get what you need.”

  Her breath left her body in a shudder. She nodded and melted into him like putty.

  “Trust me, sweetheart,” he purred into her ear, gliding the zipper the rest of the way down. Peeling aside her dress, he sank to his knees, pressing open-mouthed kisses across her shivering skin. He palmed and squeezed her plump ass, nudging her open and sliding his middle finger into her core.

  She moaned and bucked, but he clasped her hips firm. After teasing his finger back out, he dipped it into his mouth.

  Holy shit. Price hadn’t exaggerated. They really did taste like honey.

  “Grab onto the foot of the bed.”

  She bent forward, obeying his command. He coaxed her legs wider and claimed another taste, lapping his tongue along her pussy. As he grunted into her sex, some base instinct demanded he take more of her.

  But not yet. Oh, not yet.

  He lowered his hand between her legs and spanned her opening, circling in on his target.

  Fox spirits weren’t human, but physically, they were similar to women. No surprises here. Her little bud swelled beneath his fingertips, and as he thrust his tongue in and out of her core, she convulsed around him, a lyrical cry shattering his ears.

  Beautiful.

  He pulled back, panting, and slapped her ass. She jerked, twisting around to him, eyes wide and round with newfound knowledge.

  Still clasping her hips, he licked the spot he’d spanked, studying her reaction. Her toes curled into the carpet. Liked that, did she? “Well, are you ready for more?”

  “I want to taste you again.” She licked her lips. “Give me your seed this time.”

  Demanding. His lips quirked. “Get on the bed.”

  He rose, squeezing her ass one more time, and waited for her to obey. The raw power of being with her was intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough. His cock throbbed at the vision of her lips on him again. Although she did as he asked, easing onto her back and spreading her legs, pink pussy glistening, he’d rather have another taste of her first. After stepping out of his clothes, he lowered his face above hers, bracing his weight on his hands on either side of her head.

  She was exquisite. Not as curvy as some of the fox spirits Price brought home, but her rosy-tipped breasts were a pleasant handful. Her lithe frame matched his height nicely, and her slender form made him feel powerful.

  He settled between her legs and hovered above her, his shaft pressing into her stomach, seeking that tight, silken heat between her thighs. Leaning forward, he slanted his mouth over hers, closing his eyes and sinking into the kiss.

  Sparks fired across his skin. The chemistry between them was electric, jolting through his normal numbness, and making him feel alive. More than he ever had before. Like he’d been underwater, his senses blocked, until now. This awareness was mind-blowing, intense, and utterly addictive. Price hadn’t ever confided anything like this. Like what Ryden experienced with Megan.

  He didn’t want this to end…and perhaps it didn’t have to?

  Easing back, he peered at her. “Are you sure you want this?”

  ***

  Ryden’s erection shoved into her belly, demanding, and damn, she was ready, but he teased and baited her with his words and tongue. What Naya had sought was a burst of his energy, not this tormenting game of seduction. She’d done everything her sisters had instructed—fake name included—but nothing was happening the way they’d assured her it would.

  “Of course I want this.” She spread her legs wider, crooking her knees, and wrapped her ankles around his waist, urging him inside. His long, hard length emitted a delicious heat against her sensitive flesh. Her veins rang with the vibration of energy he’d shared with her, but it wasn’t enough. She required his sexual energy. His jīng.

  The only way she’d get it was if he ejaculated inside her. Obviously, he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t released a drop when she’d had him in her mouth. And now, he talked. Instead of fucking her like she’d asked.

  Her sisters had been so wrong. They’d claimed it would be a fast, easy in and out, kind of deal. Most men didn’t last long under a fox spirit’s influence, when faced with her raw seduction.

  Apparently, Ryden wasn’t most men. Not only had he refused to take her how she’d demanded, he toyed with her. Shattered her body. Made her whimper.

  Her sisters would roll their eyes at how easily dominated Naya had been. She was supposed to be the one bringing him to his knees.

  He shook his head, seized her legs, and unwrapped them from around his waist. “I mean, do you choose this life?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Shoving up on her elbows, she glared at him. “This isn’t a lifestyle choice. This is what I am.” As she scrambled out from under him, he sank backward onto his knees.

  Cocking his head, he regarded her with those intense eyes. “Some of your kind…”

  “Are easily manipulated.” Her lip curled and her claws shot out, tearing into the sheets. This was a huge mistake. Definitely the wrong choice.

  “Why, just because they don’t want to feed off strange—”

  “You don’t know anything.” Hissing, she swung her legs off the side of the bed and stomped toward her dress.

  Ryden snared her wrist. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “You insult my race and expect me to stay?” She scoffed and wrenched her wrist free, swiping her claws at him to keep him back.

  “Insult you? How did I insult you?” His brows drew together, his scowl deepening as she shoved her feet into her dress and tugged it on.

  She zipped up her dress, stuck her feet into her heels, and whirled to face him. “You can call me a slut or a whore or whatever you want. This is what I am. So you can go fuck yourself, because I’m certainly not going to.”

  Spinning on her heel, she stormed from his flat.

  As she strode outside, her skin brist
led, a pinching panged in the back of her head, and worst of all, her stomach growled. Naya braced one hand on a lamppost, the other hugged around her middle. Crap. What have I gotten myself into?

  Ryden was supposed to be one thing and one thing only. My meal. She shouldn’t have ever opened her damn mouth. Why couldn’t she have picked one of the males her sisters talked about? An in and out kind of man.

  She hailed a cab and slipped inside. After the door clicked shut, a booming voice rang out. “Megan!”

  She whirled while the cab sped away and caught a glimpse of a bare-chested Ryden hunched over, his locks falling across his fierce scowl.

  Hell. She flipped back around and wiped the stinging moisture from her eyes.

  “Where to, miss?” the driver asked in Cantonese.

  Her shoulders slumped and she stared out the window. “Anywhere but here.”

  Two months later…

  “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

  Ryden groaned at Price’s cheery greeting and flipped onto his stomach, shielding his face from the apparent morning sunlight. Some days, living next to his brother sucked. Today was one of those days.

  Only four years apart, they’d grown up together and had made a pact to always look out for each other. Especially because life had taught them its harsh reality—of the supernatural variety—at a young age. They balanced each other out. Ryden was responsible, and Price was, well, Price. Still, his brother kept Ryden’s uncertain darkness in check.

  Anyone looking at them never questioned that they were brothers. They were about the same size, had the same dark hair and tanned skin, but Price’s eyes were a baby blue while his were a darker midnight shade. They had their Chinese grandmother to thank for their exotic looks. Their mother had been mixed Caucasian and Chinese, and their father, who the hell knew? The three of them had gotten along just fine without that deadbeat bastard.

  Until that one night—

  “Who’s that?” A lilting feminine voice carried from the doorway. Fuck. Not another one of Price’s “attempts” at making Ryden pluck his pathetic self out of bed. Price had assumed his funk was due to the trashed deal at work, and Ryden hadn’t clued him in otherwise.

  “Not now, Price. Not today, not yesterday, not ever. You can take your whore and go screw her yourself.”

  The woman gasped. “Excuse me?”

  He peeled one eye open. Shit. Bolting upright, he raked a hand through his mussed up hair. She was not…anything he’d expected. The rose silk dress she wore was prim and regal, matching her glowering expression. “Ah, sorry. Thought you were someone else.”

  “Yeah, sorry, give us a minute.” Price ushered her from the room and whirled to plant an even bigger scowl on Ryden. “Get out of bed, you dumbass, and go apologize to her. Properly.” He stepped from the room and clipped whispering carried from the hallway.

  What the fuck? Since when had Price ever cared about apologies? Though he was four years older than Ryden, he’d never acted like an older brother. Price was a Chosen—a human warrior paired with a spirit animal of the Chinese Zodiac. His was the Horse. Free-spirited nature included. While most big brothers gave their younger siblings piggyback rides, Ryden had gotten actual horseback rides.

  The Jade Emperor—the supreme ruler of heaven—tasked the Chosen with restoring the yin and yang balance to the world. Some demonic assholes had unleashed the Plague God, and a virus called the Red Death, a couple years ago. The plague had decimated a good chunk of the human population—nearly a third in every major city hit in the Western world.

  But here in Hong Kong, life droned on pretty much normal, aside from the rise in black market activities. Many of which Price tried to contain to certain districts, away from “his” turf. Places like the club SUTOL were a sanctuary for those stuck between the human world and the Jade Emperor’s. Like the húli jīng.

  Like Megan. He groaned at the reminder and flopped onto the bed.

  “Dude, I said, get up.” Price’s yapping panged in his ears.

  Ugh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “The hell you will. You’ll slap some decent clothes on your sorry ass and go grovel before the Queen.”

  He froze, and then slowly lowered his hand. “The Queen? What do you mean, the Queen?”

  Price crossed his arms, leaned against the closed door, and winked. “The Queen of the fucking fox spirits.”

  “Really?” He frowned. “What the hell is she doing here?”

  Price shrugged. “Well, she didn’t come for a bloody cup of tea.” He strode to Ryden’s dresser, dug around, and tossed clothes at him. “Get dressed. Pack a bag. You’re coming with us.”

  “What are you talking about? Where?”

  Price paused at the door and cast a grin over his shoulder. “Our new home. Daji, she’s not just the Queen. She’s my wife.”

  The door slid shut, leaving Ryden gaping at it like a fool. After a minute of staring at the closed door, he tugged on the shirt and pants, grabbed a duffle bag from his closet, and stuffed it full of clothes and toiletries.

  Price had married the Queen of the fox spirits? He wasn’t sure which was more shocking. That she was the Queen, or that Price had gotten shackled.

  The latter won out. This was his brother, after all. He loved the man, but Price was not one for settling down. Not for any reason, or any woman.

  After making himself presentable, Ryden treaded into the hallway. Price and the Queen waited, seated on his couch, a few feet apart. Hmm. Not exactly happy newlyweds. “I’m really sorry about earlier, ah, Queen Daji.” He dipped his head at the lady.

  She waved away his apology. “You may address me as Daji.”

  “Well, are you ready?” Price gave him a once-over, settling on the duffle he’d slung over his shoulder.

  Frowning, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Where exactly are we going?” He loved his brother, but Price dragging him into his escapades wasn’t something Ryden had any hankering to do, ever.

  “To my palace.” Daji rose, the tips of her copper-hued braid swaying as she glided from his flat.

  He dropped his hand, heart pounding inside his chest.

  “I’m on a Lotus League mission.” Price leapt to his feet. Aside from being a Chosen, he also belonged to a lethal band of assassins led by a woman named the Matchmaker. “I have to be gone for a while—not sure how long—and I need you with me. Or you need me with you.” His gaze landed on the talisman around Ryden’s neck. “Well, fuck it. Are you coming or not?”

  He blinked at Price’s rambling, but Daji’s declaration resonated, loud and clear. Inside the Queen’s palace, in the land of the fox spirits, he would finally locate her.

  Megan.

  He squeezed his fists and gave a sharp nod. Price slapped him on the back and followed after Daji.

  Ryden locked his flat and trailed the pair with leaden legs, far too tense. Too stiff. Too numb. After Megan had stormed off, he’d spent every night for a month in that bloody club, desperate for another chance with her. To experience, just for a few more seconds, that intense awareness. To clear up their misunderstanding, whatever the hell that was. He still didn’t grasp what he’d said to insult her so deeply.

  He’d even accosted some of Price’s groupies and casually pried for information about Megan, but they either played dumb, or didn’t know her.

  It was like she didn’t exist.

  But she does. He scoffed. He’d shoved the torn tie into his duffle, along with the rest of his belongings. Had stopped short of sleeping with the memento under his pillow every night.

  He hadn’t been able to function for two damn months. No appetite, restless sleep. His brother had tried to cheer him up in usual Price fashion—by presenting other women to him. Ryden didn’t desire them… I want Megan.

  He had to see her again, to experience the intensity he had with her before, and be certain he hadn’t imagined it. This chance Price offered him, of going to their realm? No way i
n hell would he miss out on this.

  One way or another, he was going to find her.

  ***

  Two weeks had passed and Ryden was still stuck in this bloody prison, no closer to locating Megan than he’d been in Hong Kong. He had, however, discovered some interesting clues about himself in the stonework of the fox spirit palace. A rune that matched one etched into his talisman was carved into dozens of stones. That had to mean something. He was determined to find out what.

  Ryden took another swig from the jug of milk and set it on the table.

  “Seriously? There’s this thing called a glass.” Price sauntered into the room, pulled out a chair, and sank onto it.

  “Not like anyone else here drinks it.”

  “Yeah, except me, dumbass.” Price jerked the jug out of Ryden’s grasp and guzzled. “Daji would faint if she saw us like this.” A grin split his face.

  That grin had become a permanent fixture on his brother’s face. It wasn’t his usual cocky one, either. This one went deeper, crinkling the corners of his baby blue eyes.

  Figures. Price always got whatever he sought. If he targeted Daji, well he’d get her soon enough. Whether she knew it or not. What would be more interesting would be to see if Price actually stuck around for more than a month or two. After he’d completed his Lotus League mission—the details of which Price hadn’t been willing, or able, to share. The only person his brother had ever cared about besides himself was Ryden. And their mother. Maybe the fox spirits as a whole, but that was only because of their mother.

  And that fateful night when they’d lost her…

  He’d been just nine years old when something attacked Price and their mother, killing her. According to Price, a fox spirit had swept in and saved his ass. But of course, he hadn’t known it was a fox spirit then. Fast forward a decade of searching and he’d finally come across the húli jīng—but still not the one who’d saved him. A fact that haunted Price, no matter his nonchalant attitude.

  “First, I can’t get you to leave them alone; now, you won’t stop terrorizing them.” Price set down the jug and snorted. “Really, if you don’t start acting like a decent houseguest, Daji is going to kick your ass to the curb.”