King's Property: Paranormal Shape Shifter Alpha Male Cage Fighter Werelion Romance (Shifter Fight League Book 2)

by Mina Carter

  “Calm down.” Logan stepped forward, his gaze still locked with Niko’s until the bigger man was corralled in the corner of the ring. His shoulders were bowed, his entire frame shaking. The fight between man and bear was obvious to all who watched.

  Kylan moved through the crowd, dispersing the fighters with quiet words. Heat hit Zara’s cheeks. Shit, she really should have thought of that. Getting everyone else out should have been her first priority, not ogling the hot as hell alpha as he did his thing. Within minutes, the club was clear apart from the four of them—her and her brother, then Niko and Logan in the ring.

  Nodding to Kylan as he ducked between the ropes, Logan released his hold on the shaking man, and the werebear’s shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

  “Get him out of here and let him rest. Don’t put him in the ring for at least a week,” Zara heard Logan say as she approached. At the sound of her heels against the painted concrete, he looked up and then dropped lightly to the floor and stalked toward her.

  One look at the heat in his gold-on-gold eyes and her steps faltered. She didn’t get a chance to say anything as he caught her arm, hauling her along with him toward the changing rooms without a word.

  2

  Zara’s heartrate tripled as Logan pushed her ahead of him into the changing rooms. Turning, she watched as he shut the door. He didn’t break eye contact even as he reached behind him to slide the bolt home. There was no need to ask what he was up to. Intention and lust were written all over his face.

  Staying where she was, she lifted her chin in silent challenge. If he thought she was going to be all meek and mild, roll over for the king just because he looked at her, then he had another think coming. A girl had her pride…even if she did still owe him a shit-ton of money and he was as hot as fuck.

  Especially because he was hot as fuck. She had a feeling Logan Reese had never had to try to get a woman in his life. He had that aura of danger and virility that would make women fall at his feet.

  “Is this still paying off my debt?” she asked, watching him as he prowled toward her.

  He paused mere inches away, the heat from his large, hard body beating at hers. The fact that he was so much bigger and stronger than she was set all her traitorous feminine instincts off. Her pussy clenched, aching to be filled by him again, and everything in her wanted to bow, to submit.

  That was her body, though…

  Her mind was far stronger.

  Pale eyes filled with heat watched her. Reaching out a hand, he slid it around her waist and pulled her up against him. She felt everything. Every hard, heavily muscled inch, including the long, thick bar of his cock pressed up against her softer belly. The scent of sweat and man surrounded her, underlined by that dry, spicy scent she associated with his lion. It was all she could do to bite back her moan.

  Okay, so maybe the mind had to bow to the body once in a while. No woman was an island…

  He dipped down to scent along the tender flesh of her throat. Unbidden, she lifted her chin to allow him access. The fact that he could change and tear her throat out in less than a second if he wanted to sent a dark thrill through her. She knew he wouldn’t. Mostly. But the element of danger added a frisson she hadn’t expected but liked.

  “Call it what you want,” he rumbled. “I’m still going to fuck you.”

  “Here?” She didn’t argue, the breathy catch in her voice giving away far more than she’d wanted. The locker room surrounded them. She’d always had fantasies of hot sex in here. Going for it on the benches, pushed up against the wall… pinned against the lockers. At the thought, her pussy clenched again, dampening her panties.

  His nostrils flared as he breathed in. A purr rumbled from his throat, the sound hitting her down low. “Oh yeah, you like that idea.”

  He hadn’t called her kitten, but she didn’t care. Not when he claimed her lips in a hard and heavy kiss. It wasn’t a kiss so much as he fucked her with his lips and tongue. Swept in and dominated the soft recesses of her mouth with long strokes and dominant slides. Gave her a glimpse of everything he wanted to do to her with his body and demanded her response in return.

  He got it. His touch thrilled her, excited her and left her with a yearning to do anything, and everything, he wanted as long as he didn’t stop kissing her.

  Without lifting his head, he walked her backward. Murmuring in pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lead her. One step, two… and he reached down to cup her ass, lifting her against him with ease. The tight fit of her skirt foiled his plan to wrap her legs around his hips, so a second later he shoved it up roughly. The seams complained, fabric tearing, but she didn’t care. A sigh of relief and arousal whispered from her as he achieved his aim. She locked her ankles behind him to ride his hips.

  “Here. Now.” He broke the kiss long enough to growl. “Can’t wait any longer.”

  Her back hit the wall. His mouth latched onto her throat, leaving a trail of white-hot kisses down her sensitive skin. True to his word, he didn’t mess about. With her weight braced between him and the wall, he reached down and shoved her panties to the side.

  Another reach and she felt the thick tip of his cock pressing against her needy pussy. There was no foreplay but there didn’t need to be. Heat had been simmering between them since he’d walked into the club earlier. Heat so strong she could smell it on him, clinging to his skin like a fine cologne and swirling between them as the tension mounted to near electric.

  “Someone’s in a hurry—” Her words were cut off as he thrust up to impale her on his thick length in one hard, fast movement. “Fuck!”

  “Yeah. In a hurry to fuck you.”

  His language was as coarse as hers as he pulled back and then slammed home again, but she didn’t care. She liked the fact that his need for her stripped away the veneer of civility. Her eyes fluttered closed on a groan. She could feel every inch. He was so big her pussy throbbed and ached around him, greedy for more. And more he gave, pulling back and powering into her with a stamina and pace that took her breath away.

  With a growl, he leaned back to shuck his hoody and top, claws gleaming for a second before the garments disappeared to leave the tattooed, satin over steel of his tanned skin for her to explore with hungry hands.

  “That’s it. Touch me. I want you to touch me. To feel your hands on me.” He reached up to hook strong fingers into the front of her blouse. A quick yank and the buttons pinged free to scatter musically across the floor and bare her to his view. She wore a bra, the satin and lace confection pushing her breasts up until they almost spilled out of the cups as though in offering.

  “This…I like.” He slid a finger into the cups, tucking them out of the way so her nipples popped free. Hard and beaded, they stood to attention, begging for the touch of his lips…his tongue. He didn’t disappoint, thrusting into her at the same time he dropped his head and caught one nipple between his lips.

  His hand somehow worked its way behind her back, pulling her away from the wall so she was forced to arch for him. To feed him more of her nipple as he laved it in hot, wet strokes of that rougher-than-human tongue. Her whimper was one of pure need, and she clenched around his cock inside her.

  Then he purred and she cried out, the vibration against her breast arrowing straight down to her clit. He did it again and again, adding a little nip to the licks and purrs until she didn’t know which way was up or down. All she knew was that she needed him to keep doing it.

  Reaching up, she grasped the hooks on the wall for purchase, using them to haul herself higher, then letting go so that she could slide down the length of his dick. Deep, male groans joined her soft pants and the slap of skin on skin as they fucked. The sounds of sex filled the room in an erotic auditory accompaniment to the sensations coursing through her.

  His body tightened, and the chords in his neck stood out as he gripped her hips. Head back, he watched her through hooded eyes as she gasped and writhed on his cock. Tension mounted within her, coiled
so tightly she thought she’d burst. It was a hard pleasure she squirmed to get away from but needed more of all at the same time. Utter control showed in his eyes as he slowed his thrusts down just when she needed more. The curl of his lip taunted her. Bastard. He knew what he did to her. This was just to torment.

  “Logan, please…” she panted, not too proud to beg now.

  He smiled, but the expression held no humor. Instead it was triumphant as he watched her, arms raised, blouse open and breasts out, jiggling with each hard thrust as he fucked her.

  “I like it when you beg.”

  He reached between their bodies to press a thumb against her clit. With each rock of his hips it rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Once…twice… She didn’t make a third time, crying his name as pleasure shattered her world.

  He wasn’t far behind. A few thrusts later he slammed into her, his entire body rigid as he threw his head back and roared. The hint of sharp fangs at the corners of his lips didn’t faze her. Instead, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She kissed him as his cock jerked and pulsed, unloading his seed deep inside her.

  Hand hard in her hair, he took control of the kiss—Male. Primal. Dominant—then pulled away to look down at her.

  “What I want, when I want, kitten. Remember that.”

  I want you at the fight tonight. Don’t wear panties.

  Later that day Zara studied the note that had arrived attached to a large bunch of red roses. There was no signature, but there didn’t need to be. The bold, harsh scrawl screamed Logan Reese all over.

  “Don’t wear panties. Who the fuck does he think he is?” she muttered to herself, trying to keep the little thrill from running down her spine.

  “Who does who think he is?” Kylan popped his head around the door, making her jump.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks and she turned away, quickly tucking the card into a drawer.

  “Oh wow, someone has an admirer…for fuck’s sake, don’t tell Reese. He’ll tear them a new one.”

  Lord above, her brother could be dense at times. Flush under control now, she turned to look over her shoulder. “Who else do you think is sending me roses? Not like I’ve got them lined up out the door, is it?”

  Ky’s expression froze for a moment. Then he smiled with a quick flash of white teeth. “You could, if you didn’t scare the fuck out of them all.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right. Like who?”

  Ky leaned in the doorway, one big shoulder propped against the wood. Seeing him like that, after seeing Logan filling the same doorway, she realized her little brother was bigger than the king himself. Although he wasn’t as heavily muscled, he was taller and broader across the shoulders, the lines of his body filled with a lean, feral strength rather that the raw power Logan projected.

  Surprise filtered through her. Fuck, she knew he trained with the men from time to time, but when had that happened? When had her brother grown up so much?

  “Niko would give his right arm to get you in the sack and Johnno blushes every time you walk into the god-damn room.”

  She blinked in surprise, turning to rearrange the roses. They didn’t need it, they were already arranged perfectly, their de-thorned stems held securely by the cut-glass vase they’d arrived in. Shit, you knew flowers were expensive when they arrived in a crystal vase in their own car.

  “Niko? Don’t be stupid.” She shrugged dismissively. “He growls whenever I go anywhere near him. Doesn’t think a woman has any place other than the kitchen or under him in the bedroom.”

  Ky shook his head, watching her carefully. She could feel his interest boring a hole in her shoulder. “You’re the one being stupid if you can’t see what’s in front of your face. Why do you think he was so pissed at Reese in training earlier? The guy made him look bad in front of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved the comment away, not prepared to entertain such a ridiculous notion. “And I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

  Kylan sighed, frustration written over his features for a second before it disappeared. “You’re fucking stubborn as shit. Anyway, thought you should know... The guys have calmed down. I think having Reese here earlier rocked them a bit. No one’s mentioned contracts since and both fighters for tonight are already here. I had to put Hernandez in for Niko since Reese benched him. That work for you?”

  A hand out to touch the whisper-soft petals of the roses on her desk, Zara nodded. Hernandez wasn’t as good a fighter as Niko or Johnno, but he was their best option with the big werebear out of commission, and they needed two to take with them to the Grand tonight. Not that they had a hope in hell against the other clubs, the Moon was definitely at the bottom of the pecking order, but they were required to make a showing. She lived in hope, though. One day they might actually win a bout or two…

  “He’ll do. Ready to leave in an hour?” she asked as she checked the time. There was just enough for her to go home, shower and change before being back here to head to the Grand.

  She just had to figure out if she was going to obey Logan’s orders…

  Did she go commando or risk facing the king’s wrath?

  3

  Forget being a lion, king of the jungle, he was more like a cat on a hot tin roof.

  Logan sighed and tore his gaze away from the door for what felt like the hundredth time that night. What was taking Zara so long? Surely women didn’t need that long to get ready? Especially when he’d ordered her not to dress so…completely. A smile curved his lips as he swirled the dark fluid in his glass. Would she do as he’d asked, or would he have to punish her for her disobedience?

  Body heating at the thought, he lifted his glass to his lips and savored the burn as he swallowed. The rum settled comfortably in his stomach and he looked around the club. It bustled with excitement, well-dressed guests mingling happily with some of the bigger name fighters. Camera crews were dotted around the place, capturing the pre-fight buzz for the various networks who covered the events. Only those who paid good, hard cash were allowed into the arena below the club to see the action, though. And for the Shifter Fight League, as they’d become known, that price was steep indeed.

  He smiled, allowing himself to take a small measure of pride. Since taking over from Veyr, the former king, Logan had pulled the world of the shifter fight clubs out of the shadows and into the limelight. They were top billing on several pay-per-view channels, and he had meetings planned right through summer with other cities eager to host the SFL.

  His expression soured a little. They weren’t the only game in town, though. Recently, an underground fight network had emerged—one he was sure was backed by the vampires. Operating out of disused warehouses and seedy clubs, it wasn’t on the same scale as his operation, but it was still out there. It was a threat he needed to get shut down before more fighters disappeared down the rabbit hole.

  All of that paled into insignificance, though, the moment the door opened and the woman he’d been waiting for walked through it.

  “Looks like the Moon found a replacement fighter,” Gage, who stood next to him in the raised, VIP area at the back of the club commented.

  Logan nodded, sparing the most fleeting of glances at the two men with Zara’s brother as they split off and headed for the changing rooms. He didn’t really care what fighters she’d brought with her. He was far more interested in the woman herself.

  Lifting her head, she spotted him immediately, and as soon as their gazes met, a thrill rolled down his spine. It wasn’t gentlemanly but he stayed in his seat, legs stretched in front of him and his glass in his hand to watch her approach. And what a show it was. She didn’t break eye contact, holding his eyes with hers as she walked across the floor with a sexy-as-sin sway in her hips that made his cock twitch and take notice. If she wasn’t an alpha lioness under the human disguise she insisted on, then he’d eat his fucking hat.

  He tracked her as she approached the VIP area and stopped as the two bruisers there, both form
er fighters, blocked her path. At his wave they let her through and she mounted the steps to approach him.

  “Mr. Reese.” Her voice was, as always, calm and collected, and her expression was as politely neutral as her body language. It was all an act, though, and he knew it. He’d seen the fire in her dark eyes and watched her come undone in his arms. He knew how to take her apart with just one touch.

  “Zara.”

  Fuck being polite. She was lucky he didn’t just grab her and bend her over the table in front of him. Lifting his glass to his lips, he took a moment to compose himself. Her appearance didn’t help matters.

  She wore a business-like ensemble of a sleeveless black shirt and pencil skirt… if the shirt wasn’t sheer and open low enough at the front to reveal the impressive swell of her breasts barely contained in her bra. He was forced to drop his gaze for a moment, only to realize she had on hooker heels similar to the ones she’d worn the first time he’d seen her…and fucked her over the desk in her office.

  Shit. He was done for already.

  “Did you get the roses and my note?” His voice was rough with his lion but he didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything at the moment other than the woman standing in front of him, her hands clasped demurely in front of her when he knew she was anything but.

  Her lips quirked for a moment, letting him see beneath the mask, and then she gave him a wide-eyed and innocent look. “Note? I didn’t see any note, just the flowers…”

  Logan almost barked out a laugh at the bald-faced lie as heat pumped through his veins. She’d lied to get around his command.

  Surging to his feet, he leaned in to whisper.

  “Lying is still disobedience, kitten. And bad girls get punished…”

  Her swift intake of breath told him all he needed to know.

  His kitten wasn’t demure; she was a hell-cat, and she was all his to tame.