by Vivi Andrews
Caleb chose that moment to flick her taut nipples with his fingers. Shana cried out and sank another inch. He flattened his large hands on her back, holding her steady as he bent and drew his teeth across her breast, missing the nipple this time.
Shana arched her back and sank deeper still onto his shaft as Caleb followed the scrape of his teeth with a soothing swipe of his tongue. When he suddenly sucked one rigid nipple hard into his mouth, the accompanying flood of heat through Shana’s body seated her fully.
She felt his primal growl through every inch of her skin.
Bracing her fingers on his shoulders, claws recklessly out, she raised herself slowly. The wet drag of flesh fired a delicious friction. She dropped herself back down, hard. He released her breast on a rough expulsion of air that teased her sensitized skin. Shana drew up and slammed down again. His big hands tightened roughly on her back. He bent his head and sank his teeth into the flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
The soft bite of pain merged seamlessly with the tide of pleasure rippling up her spine. His strong arms wrapped all the way around her, holding her a little too tight. Shana reveled in the surety of his strength as she quickened her pace, lost in the wet, sucking draw and wild, slamming return.
Pleasure built, coiling deep inside her and yet just out of reach. A chaotic explosion that would be so good, so good, if she could just get there, reach it, find it, claim it. Every sense tightened—so close. Shana’s claws snapped out to full feline length and blooded themselves on Caleb’s shoulders. A predator’s teeth ripped like daggers through her gums as she threw back her head. Pleasure ripped through her body, her orgasm crashing through her in a destructive wave that was so damn good, wiping away every thought, every fear, every bit of her that was Shana and replacing it with bliss.
Caleb roared, his body pouring his need into hers in a bone-crushing rush. Shana felt her soul lock around his, holding on tight to this moment. She needed this moment. This goodness. He was the only thing in her life that had ever made her feel so good. She rode the wave of it, clinging hard.
Then she blacked out.
Serengeti Storm: Serengeti Shifters, Book 2
Chapter Six
The bed was cold when she woke up. She’d been alone for a while.
Shana rolled to a sitting position in the tangled sheets, grimacing at the sticky wetness on her thighs. What a gentleman. Let the lady sleep in the wet spot. He’d probably walked out the door as soon as he’d yanked on a pair of pants. If he’d even bothered. Shifting was faster than clothes any day when it came to immediate escape.
And he had escaped her. Abandoned her.
Bastard.
You give a man an earth-shattering fuck and he can’t even be bothered to stick around until you regain consciousness. That’s gratitude for you.
Shana kicked off the sheets, gathered her clothes, and padded to the bathroom. She quickly cleaned herself up and then took stock of what was left of her clothes. With the exception of her thong, everything she’d walked in with was in working order.
Pulling her jeans on commando, Shana winced a little at the tenderness between her legs. She hadn’t had sex in months—humans just didn’t have the same appeal—and she hadn’t had sex with someone hung like Caleb since…well, Caleb. And they hadn’t exactly eased back into the saddle. She’d been out for a rough ride and that’s exactly what she’d gotten—and the soreness to go with it.
The bra and tank top quickly followed. Shana started out of the bathroom, only to pause as her reflection caught her eye.
“Damn.”
Caleb had marked her all right. And not just with the purple bruises on her wrists. The skin where her shoulder met her neck was already turning a stunning shade of violet in the exact shape of Caleb’s teeth.
Of course, judging by the little flecks of blood on the sheets, she’d given at least as good as she got. She hoped any little lionesses who might be tempted to poach got a good look at the claw marks she’d left on Caleb’s shoulders.
Shana froze, frowning at the thought.
She was naturally possessive. Violently so. But Caleb wasn’t hers anymore. She didn’t want him. She wanted the Alpha. What’s-his-name. Landon. She wanted Landon.
Caleb was just a pit stop on the way to her destiny as the Alpha’s mate.
She was focused. She had goals. And they did not include mooning after a man she’d once been stupidly in love with just because he was strong and sexy and knew her inside and out.
Goddesses did not moon. Neither did queens. Queens kicked ass.
Shana kicked the door open and stepped out onto the porch. Dusk had fallen while she and Caleb were battling for supremacy in the Fuck-Olympics. The snow had long since melted, but the temperature had dropped again, leaving an icy chill in the air.
Shana sucked in the cold air, letting it cool any lingering heat Caleb had left in her. It was time to make herself a queen.
Caleb ran the outer perimeter, along the edge of the ranch property, but he didn’t fool himself that he was doing any good as a guard. A soldier’s best tool was his mind and Caleb’s was poisoned by the viper who was likely still sleeping off their excesses in his bed.
His animal scratched against the inside of his skull, but he kept his human form. A neighbor or a passing car could see him this far out, though hopefully no one would. He ran too fast to be strictly human, infected by Shana’s wildness. She had passed it to him and he couldn’t outrun it.
He knew what would happen now. She’d come to him before over the years, when her latest boy toy failed to defeat the Alpha and her mother lashed out at her. Shana always came running to him, wild and hungry. And he still hadn’t learned how to say no. Every time he tried. And every time he failed.
And every time, she sank her claws into another forgotten chamber of his heart and ripped it open. He was a goddamn medical miracle—his heart still beating after she’d demolished it piece by piece.
He didn’t fool himself that this time would be any different.
She hadn’t come back for him. She’d come back for fucking Landon. The fucking Alpha.
Caleb’s mouth pulled into a snarl as he ran.
She wouldn’t get him. Landon looked at Ava like the secrets of the universe could be found in her eyes. He wasn’t going to give that up, no matter what tricks the redheaded minx might try to pull.
Images of her tricks flashed through his mind in living color, a lurid montage.
Caleb staggered to a stop. He propped his hands on his knees and gulped down air, ignoring the stitch digging a knife into his side. How far had he run? Five miles? Ten? However many, it hadn’t been far enough. He could still taste Shana on his tongue. Feel her on his skin.
She was a virus he’d been infected with. Shouldn’t his body have built up the antibodies to fight her hold on him by now? How many times would he have to go through this? Why couldn’t he get her out of his blood?
He turned back to the ranch. Running wasn’t helping.
It was time—past time—for him to face the feral lioness he’d been running from for the last decade. Time for them to fight it out.
He wanted her—not wanting her never seemed to be an option—and this time he was going to fight for her. Even if she was the one he had to fight.
Shana found the Alpha and his miniature mateling in the dining hall. The hall was beginning to fill as the dinner hour approached, but they acted as if they were alone, billing and cooing at one another, wrapped in their own lovey-dovey world.
Shana folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot, waiting to be acknowledged. She had no intention of waiting long.
Around them, the rest of the pride trickled in. Seeing Shana standing there, her posture issuing the challenge she hadn’t yet voiced, several of her pridemates hesitated, watching her cautiously, curious to see whatever spectacle she’d prepared for them tonight.
Impatient with the turtledoves cooing privately to one another, Shana
cleared her throat. Loudly.
Ava looked up and arched her brows questioningly. The look Landon shot her was far from questioning. Irritated, yes. Questioning, no.
Shana didn’t care if he was annoyed. She was annoyed too.
“I won’t allow you to issue a challenge just so you can get a nicer house, Shana,” Landon said, his clear, strong voice calling the attention of anyone who might have missed their little standoff.
Shana wasn’t intimidated. She did her best work in front of an audience. “I’m not here for a house, Landon,” she corrected. “I’m here for you.”
The Alpha frowned. “Me?”
Shana smiled, oh-so-sweetly, and flicked her eyes to the mini-mate. “Or don’t you think your little Ava is strong enough to keep you? Maybe she’d rather just forfeit her claim on you now and save us all the five seconds it would take me to wipe the floor with her ass.”
The challenge filled the air with a subtle pressure, like a coming storm.
Landon rose slowly from his chair, drawing Shana’s gaze away from his wide-eyed mateling. He was a behemoth of a man and his aura of power made him seem larger still. Shana tried to remember what he’d been like in bed—size and strength were definitely among her turn-ons—but all she could recall was that he had fallen somewhere in the Not Bad category, though a little too vanilla for her tastes.
“If you think to touch my wife, you’ll have to go through me,” the Alpha growled.
Shana managed not to roll her eyes. Barely. Landon’s chest-banging might have been impressive, if he weren’t negating his own mate’s power with every overprotective word.
He’d better not try to fight her battles for her when she was his mate.
Landon looked serious. And pissed. Shana didn’t doubt that he meant every word. And even though she was the strongest, fastest female lion in the pride, the Alpha could still kick her ass. Probably. Shana almost felt reckless enough to try her luck. There hadn’t ever been a female Alpha in a lion pride before, but Landon was all about humanizing them. How about a little equality of the sexes?
Shana prowled slowly toward the Alpha. He held his position. She could practically see his mind racing as he tried to figure out if she was coming closer to attack him or to bow in submission. She made sure her eyes gave nothing away.
When she was less than a foot from him, she looked up into his angry green-gold eyes and slowly licked her lips. “Are you so eager to get your paws on me again, lover? That you’ll use any flimsy excuse?”
A low growl rumbled through his chest. A wild, suicidal impulse made Shana want to laugh. She didn’t know why she provoked him. Her fight was with Ava. Landon was going to rule at her side. But the delicious idea of fighting for the pride herself made her feel rash and imprudent. She could be a queen. On her own terms. No man needed. She’d been bred for it. She was strong and fast and fierce. This was her pride.
“Obey our rules or leave our land,” the Alpha growled, taking a threatening step forward.
Shana’s hands flexed, her claws snapping out. “Make me.”
The roar that met her words was so loud, it took her a heartbeat to realize it wasn’t coming from the lion in front of her. It rolled like thunder through the room. Before the echoes had died, Caleb’s body was between hers and Landon’s. He shoved her away from the Alpha so roughly she was thrown to the ground.
Caleb’s back bowed. He was still in human form, but just barely, and battling for every shred of humanity. “Don’t. You. Touch. Her.” The words were snarled out, guttural and low, more animal than man.
Shana’s breath left her in a rush as lust poured through her body, inappropriate and so damn hot. He was fighting for her. From her position sprawled on the floor, she could see the muscles across his back tense and ready to kill for her. Delicious shivers rolled across her skin.
Landon didn’t step back in the face of the threat Caleb presented—every lion in the room would have recognized the act as ceding to Caleb’s dominance. Instead, the Alpha met his lieutenant’s gaze steadily, holding his body perfectly still.
“Think about what you’re doing, Caleb,” Landon urged in a low, uncompromising voice. “Are you sure you want this fight? There’s no going back if you challenge me.”
Yes, Shana silently urged, challenge him. This was it. What she had always wanted, the man she loved, willing to fight for her, strong enough to win. She was so damn close. Do it, Caleb. Do it.
Caleb’s shoulders relaxed, easing just a fraction, but that little change was enough for disappointment to spike sharply through Shana. “No,” she whispered.
Caleb took a slow step back, away from his Alpha. “I’m sorry,” he said, bowing his head to Landon.
“No,” Shana wailed, louder this time. “Don’t be sorry. Challenge him!”
Caleb continued his retreat, not so much as glancing in Shana’s direction.
“Caleb!” Shana scrambled to her feet. “Come on. This is our chance! Challenge him. Caleb, please.”
He didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate. Caleb walked right out the door without looking back.
A tight heat pressed against the back of Shana’s eyes and her throat felt swollen and thick. She wouldn’t cry. She never cried. Goddesses didn’t cry.
But goddesses also didn’t beg, and they didn’t lose.
“Obey our rules or leave our land,” Landon said again, his voice ominous and dark.
Shana looked up at the Alpha, hating him with every fiber of her being. “Fuck you and your fucking rules,” she snarled.
She stalked toward the exit, head held high, defiant and fierce. She half-expected not to make it to the door. The old Alphas—Leonus, her own father—would never have allowed her rebellion to go unchecked. She would have been forcibly put back in her place, but Landon’s precious humanity made him weak in front of his entire pride. He just watched as she stormed out.
Outside, the wind wailed, a new storm rising. Matching the storm inside her mind.
Her emotions tangled, a savage knot swelling inside her throat until she choked on a sob. Why did it hurt so much? She’d been disappointed in her bids to become the Alpha’s mate before. She’d always just shrugged off defeat—occasionally mourning the poor bastards who were the casualties of her personal war—but it never felt like this. Why did this one eat away at her soul, tearing out chunks of her heart?
Because it was Caleb.
The thought called the tears, hot and uncontrollable. It was different because of Caleb. Because he had always been the one she wanted. The One. Always the one she loved—in her way, no matter how twisted. She’d always clung to the promise that he would be the one to save her. If the others failed, what did it matter? Only Caleb mattered. He would fight for her. He would prove he loved her too.
And he’d come so close. He had almost loved her enough.
Shana choked back the tears, forcing them to stop out of sheer will.
He hadn’t loved her enough, but she would love him. She knew she didn’t deserve him. He was steady and honorable where she was deceitful and manipulative. She didn’t know what she deserved, but it wasn’t anything good. And Caleb was good. He was everything good to her.
But luckily, Shana didn’t believe in getting what she deserved.
Goddesses didn’t get what they deserved. They got what they wanted. And she wanted Caleb.
Serengeti Storm: Serengeti Shifters, Book 2
Chapter Seven
Shana was not the moony-eyed, heart-on-her-sleeve, Dr. Phil-confession-of-love type. Sex was her currency. She would win Caleb back, but she would do it her way.
With that in mind, she went back to her borrowed bungalow, took a quick shower, put on her skimpiest, sexiest scraps of lingerie lace, and began digging through her bags for the naughtiest invitation-to-sex outfit she could find.
She was debating between a schoolgirl outfit that no self-respecting schoolgirl would be caught dead in and the slightly less subtle black vinyl catsuit when she heard
a footstep on her front porch.
Her heart quickened. Had Caleb had a change of heart?
Shana threw open the door before rational thought had time to weigh in on the decision, still wearing only a few scraps of see-through black lace and a garter belt.
If little Ava was shocked to see her dressed so provocatively, nothing in her face gave her away. The five-foot mateling craned her neck up at Shana and squared her tiny little shoulders, flipping her long white-blonde hair away from her face.
“I’m here to accept your challenge,” she rasped, her throaty sex-kitten voice an odd contrast to her Mini-Me persona.
Shana groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Does your keeper know you’re here?”
Ava tipped her chin back even farther. “This is between you and me.”
“Uh-huh. So I kick your ass. Landon hears about it. Landon kicks my ass and throws me out of the pride. As fun as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.”
Shana flipped the door closed, but Ava caught it before it could latch and flung it open again, stepping into the room. Tenacious little midget.
“I can’t let your challenge to my authority as Landon’s mate stand,” Ava declared. Her voice was sure and calm, nearly masking the fact that she was terrified out of her wits. Only the scent of fear coming off her in waves gave her away.
Shana crossed back to the bed and picked up her wardrobe options. The catsuit perhaps?
“Shana! I demand you acknowledge me!”
Shana waved the catsuit in Ava’s direction. “Yeah, yeah, you’re the Alpha’s mate. Whoop-de-do.”
“Landon is mine. You’ll never change that.”
Shana tossed aside the catsuit. Too obvious. Naughtiness was an art form. She picked up the three-inch-wide strip of plaid that would barely cover her ass. If she stretched the definition, it could almost be called a skirt. Subtle.
“I’m not interested in Landon,” she said, shimmying into the skirt. “I never really was.”
