by Kate Douglas
“And what will you do now that you’re here?” Her tongue flicked out to lick her lower lip, but her gaze didn’t waver from his face.
He choked on the need to claim every inch of her over and over again until he burned out this clawing lust. He’d wanted her before he’d had her, but now? God, it ripped into his insides. “I want to take you. Hard.”
Her eyes closed and her head fell back. Dragging in a deep breath lifted her pert breasts. She sighed and shook her head, but her muscles relaxed as if a decision had been made. “Fine. If all you want is a couple of weeks ... let’s not waste a single second of it.”
Was that all he wanted? Hell, no. But that was all he could allow himself. With her, he was on shaky ground. Too much more, and he’d find himself hip-deep in pain he’d sworn he’d never feel again. Light and easy was all he was good for when it came to women. It was better for all concerned. But Kira wasn’t a light woman, and she’d never be easy. She was hard-nosed, stubborn, ferociously protective of those she cared for. She was complex, with depths he’d never be able to explore.
Holding out her hand, she crooked a single finger. “Come here, Max.”
And that was all it took. He abandoned his reservations to go to her. Two weeks. He’d revel in it for every moment they had together, just as she’d said. A few steps and he was beside her, sliding across the sheets and dragging her into his arms. The feel of her silky skin gliding against his made him snarl in need. His cock throbbed painfully, the wolf within him insisting on what it had wanted the moment he’d come into the room and seen her.
She jerked at his clothes, growling in frustration when they didn’t come off fast enough to suit her. He wanted her hands on his skin. “Use your claws.”
“You won’t be able to wear them out of here.”
“So?” That was enough talking. He slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue between her lips. She bit him, and he jolted. Heat flooded his gut, boiling beneath his flesh. He pushed his fingers into her short, satiny hair, holding her in place for his possession.
A shudder passed through him when he felt the tips of her claws running down his torso as she sliced through his shirt. He skated his palms down her back and cupped her ass, pulling her in to grind himself into the juncture of her thighs. She spread her legs for him, wrapping them tight around his flanks and lifting herself into the thrust of his hips. He groaned, feeling the heat of her through his slacks. So fucking good. It was all he could think, and he wasn’t even inside her yet. This was the most amazing thing he’d ever experienced. Even more amazing than ... He quelled the thought, withdrawing from it and from Kira.
He shouldn’t be doing this. Alarms sounded in his head, warning him that he was far too close to an edge he didn’t want to fall over.
Kira let him pull back and used the distance between them to wrestle his pants open. One slim hand slid inside and caught him. His brain malfunctioned when she began to pump him in the tight ring of her fingers.
“God, Kira.” He groaned, arching himself into her touch. The pad of her thumb rubbed the underside of his cock, and he sucked in a breath. “That feels fucking incredible.”
She hummed, her eyes glinting with laughter as she bent forward to suck his dick into her mouth. And how does this feel, Max?
“Holy shit,” he choked.
She hummed again, and he damn near came. His fingers fisted in her hair, pressing her closer, bucking his hips to drive deeper between her lips. She flicked her tongue over his shaft and her fangs scraped oh-so-lightly against the head.
It was more than his control could take. If he didn’t stop her now, the party would be over before it started.
He jackknifed upward, toppling her onto her back. Husky laughter spilled from her before he shoved her thighs wide and flat to the mattress. Bending forward, he sucked hard on her clit, nipping at it with his teeth. Her low moan rose into a thin scream. The muscles in her legs jerked, but he held her in place, dipping down to thrust his tongue into her soaking channel.
“Max!” She squirmed, scrabbling for a grip on his shoulders. Her claws dug in sharply, and he growled against her clit at the pain. “Max!”
Her moisture flooded his tongue, and he drank down her musky flavor. His cock ached as it chafed against the soft sheets. He needed to be inside her. Now. He couldn’t wait.
Drawing away from her sex, he blew a cool stream of air over the slick, swollen lips. She shuddered, a sound of pure need whistling from her. “Inside me, Max. Now.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Crawling up the bed, he settled between her thighs and probed her entrance with his cock. Her wetness made him grit his teeth, and he felt his fully extended fangs scrape his lips. God, it felt good. Everything with Kira was good. Fighting with her, fucking her. He groaned and slid deep into her pussy.
Her knees came up to clasp his hips, her hands dragging him down for a demanding, greedy kiss. They bit at each other, as animal as they were human, hungry for more. Her taste was sweet and tart at once, so like the woman herself. He couldn’t get enough of it, of her.
Their bodies moved together, skin slapping, sweat gathering and slipping down their overheating flesh. The mattress squeaked beneath them, and the scent of hot sex floated around them. The carnality of it called to the wolf within him, and both man and beast relished the moment.
He buried his dick deep inside her, over and over until he thought he might die, and knew he’d go out a contented man if he did. Grinding his pelvis against her hard little clit, he pushed her as fast as possible toward orgasm. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out, and he wanted her with him, wanted to feel that clench of inner flesh around his cock, wanted to taste the satisfaction in her kiss.
Max! Her telepathic voice held the sharp edge of pending ecstasy, and her channel clamped down on his shaft. She clawed at his back, bit at his lips. Her urgency only drove him onward.
Faster, harder, deeper. He pushed them both beyond their limits, beyond anything he’d known before. And she was right there with him, the fox in her as feral as the wolf in him.
He released her mouth from the kiss, licked a path down to the base of her throat, and sank his fangs into the sensitive tendon there.
“Oh, yes ... yes, Max!” Her pussy fisted on his thrusting cock, her slim body shaking as orgasm took her under.
He unleashed the fetters on his control and pounded into her sex. The need to come was all that mattered, and he took her like a man possessed. Satisfaction loomed, and he threw himself toward it. His body bowed and shudders racked him as he jetted into her pussy. The intensity of it was just as good as the night before. Better, drawing everything from him in waves of blinding ecstasy. The heat of it should have set his skin on fire.
He collapsed on top of her, and her arms wrapped tight around his neck, holding him close while their bodies cooled and their heart rates slowed to normal. “Jesus, this is the most perfect thing I’ve ever felt, Kira.”
Her laugh was a soft sound. “Let’s not make this more than it is. This is two weeks of a good time, Your Highness. I’m a servant, you’re a prince.”
That jostled some awareness to his brain. He didn’t like the way that sounded at all, though some of it was his own fault. But not all of it. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”
“Your father did.” She yawned, settling more comfortably beneath him.
He snorted. “My father was an asshole, which every Between is well aware of.”
“Yep.”
“So why would you listen to him?” He frowned down at her and she arched her eyebrows at him.
She stretched her arms over her head, and her response was flippant. “Because he was my king and I was living on his island?”
“Well, he’s not anymore. And you’re not even living on the Delacourt island anymore—it’s just the Between island, and you’re a Between. It’s your island.” Some of this came from his father, but some of it came from hers. That was a can of worms he’d rather not
open, though. Or reopen, rather. They’d argued about this before. Then again, there wasn’t much they hadn’t debated over the years. The woman was fiercely protective of those she loved, and that included her dead parent. He admired that about her, but he thought she brushed over some of the more archaic notions of social class the elder Seaton had clung to.
“I’m still a servant to the king.” Her words slowed, slurred as her eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
“So am I, prince or not.”
Her mouth opened, then closed, but nothing came out.
“Look at that. Kira Seaton rendered speechless.”
She sputtered a laugh. “Shut up, Max!”
“Sure, I’ll shut up.” Grinning down at her, he dropped a kiss on her soft mouth. She sighed and her lips moved under his, her tongue playing with his. It felt good to kiss her, to tease her into laughter, to just be with her like this. He left her mouth and buried his face in the crook of her neck, drinking in her scent. They lay there for a long time, wrapped together in silence. His muscles loosened and he could feel sleep beckoning. This was perfect. He couldn’t hold the thought back, though he knew he should.
Max ... Her mind breathed his name before she relaxed, utterly spent.
He sensed the moment she dropped into slumber, a soft sigh on her lips that belied the tough exterior.
“Kira.” He said it even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him. Kira. That was the last thought he had before unconsciousness dragged him into oblivion. Just her name, and a wish that this could go on forever.
Those alarms pulsed to life again in the back of his mind, but he was too content to pay heed. Sleep took him, and his dreams were sweet.
And filled with Kira.
4
“Oh, my God!” The horror that rang in Rhiannon’s voice brought Kira to full alert. She bolted up and out of bed, jerking on a set of workout clothes that were on top of her dresser as she careened out of the room.
Her nose twitched; she could smell the stench of blood in the air. That alone was enough to send her pelting down the stairs. Max was right behind her in wolf form, taking steps two at a time, his nails scrabbling against the wood floor. He leaped over the banister, passing her as they both skidded down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Elan had Rhiannon in his arms, shielding her from something or someone, and Kira could scent the ripeness of the other woman’s fear. A chill rippled down her spine as the iron stink of blood intensified.
“What happened?” She swept the room with a glance, and one of the cooks met her gaze for a moment before bursting into tears.
“I’m sorry! It looked the same. I’m so sorry!” The woman covered her face and sobbed.
Max moved around the knot of people, froze, and his telepathic voice hit everyone’s mind as he swore ripely.
Stepping over to stand beside him, Kira had to fight to control her gag reflex. She squatted next to him, one hand burying in the fur at the ruff of his neck.
Someone had cut off a lion’s head and put it in a meat delivery box—the same company they used to deliver all foodstuffs to this cabin. From the outside, the container looked normal, so that explained the cook’s reaction.
I smell him. Max’s mental voice was rough, his fur bristling with his anger. This dangerous side of him only came out when he worked, when his people were threatened. It sent a chill down the spine to see him this way, his rage a palpable, killing force. A few Guards took a step back. He wants to prove he knows where we are, that he can still get to the king.
Message received. Loud and clear.
Kira forced herself to get a grip on her own anger, to retract her fangs. She wanted to track down and destroy anyone who’d dare threaten her people. There can’t be that many ways to get a hold of a lion’s head. That’s one way to trace him.
Yes. The predatory craving for the hunt rang in his telepathic tone.
Pulling in a deep breath that only reeked of death and decay, she swallowed her rising gorge and pivoted on her haunches to look at Elan. “Why don’t you and Rhiannon retire to your room? The Guard will take care of this.”
She nodded to a few of the security staff, who came forward to escort the couple out. Elan’s amber gaze glittered dangerously, and his fangs flashed when he spoke. “No one is supposed to be able to come near us here. What if there’d been a bomb in that container?”
“We’ll find out what happened.” She straightened slowly, something in his tone reminding her of his father at his most wrathful. “You’ll get a full report.”
“You bet your ass I will,” he snarled. “This should never have happened. I expect you to keep my wife safe. If you can’t do that, I’ll find someone who can.”
Kira felt her expression freeze in place. An echo of her dad’s voice sounded in her head, telling her never to let any emotion show on her face. They can’t take what they don’t know you have, so never give anything away. He’d warned her this moment would come—that her friendship with the Delacourts lasted only as far and as long as she was useful to them.
She offered Elan a formal curtsy—the kind she would have given his father. Servant to monarch. “I understand, Your Majesty.”
Her stomach churned as Elan led Rhiannon away. The drawn paleness of the woman’s face and her silence spoke volumes.
He’s just worried for Rhiannon, Kira. Max’s voice was a quiet rumble in her head, his anger banked for the moment, and she snapped her chin down in a sharp nod, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’ll speak to the delivery company and the cook, see how the boxes got switched.”
I’ll speak to the Guard who was supposed to check all deliveries before they were brought to the house. This was not the cook’s job. Max’s molten anger had frozen to an ice-cold rage, and any smart person would understand that was where the true danger lay. That Guard’s slip was likely to cost him his job today, and he’d be lucky if he got off that easily.
“Great. Let’s get to work, then.” Kira turned to walk out of the room, and she could feel his gaze boring into her back. The hulking form of Barrett filled the kitchen door, a large handgun cradled in his palm. He stepped aside to let her by, and she didn’t meet his piercing gaze either. “Granger, take the cook to the sitting room and calm her down. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
“Of course.”
The need to vomit didn’t dissipate when she got away from the stink of congealed blood. Never in all the years that she’d known him had Elan treated her that way—it was why she’d been willing to come back in the first place, because she’d thought he never would. Max and Elan were different from their despicable father, King Phillip.
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe her dad was right. It was in the worst times that you saw the real person under the masks they showed the world. She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She’d think about what this meant when she was by herself tonight—she had a job to do now.
Hours later, she stood alone with Barrett in the sitting room. Everyone who could be questioned, coerced, or grilled had been, and they were no closer to figuring out who this stalker was than they had been before. The containers had been switched at the warehouse. How, the company couldn’t explain. Anger sizzled in her veins—at this asshole human stalker, at Elan’s behavior, at herself for not having any answers, at the whole damn world. She wanted to put her fist through something until these ugly feelings burned away.
“I hate this,” Barrett hissed. Silver glimmered at the corners of his eyes for a moment, the feral feline in him fighting for control.
“I hear you.”
“I should be out hunting this guy.” He snorted. “I should be back on San Amaro keeping some woman from poaching on—”
It was the most open comment the other man had ever made, but Kira couldn’t help but defend a woman she cared about. “Genesee isn’t poaching on Adam.”
“She doesn’t have to, you can say it. I know the score.” He rubbed a hand over the back of hi
s neck. “Are you going to say anything about this?”
There was the crux of his problem, what he’d wanted to ask her since she’d seen him with Adam the other night. She met his gaze and gave him the blunt truth. “What you do with your private time is none of my business unless it affects the Guard.”
“It doesn’t.” A muscle jumped in his square jaw. “Hell, I don’t even care if people know. I am what I am. Adam is what he is, and he’s not embarrassed about it either, but he doesn’t want Genesee to think he’s ... unavailable ... if she ever gets her head out of her uptight ass.”
Kira sputtered a laugh, the first since she’d bolted out of bed that morning. “She’s a little tense at times, yeah, but she’s still my friend.”
And a friend her father would approve of, one who was her equal, who wouldn’t turn on her because she was beneath her. She’d always thought her dad overly paranoid because Phillip Delacourt was an especially heinous dickhead. She’d also suspected his distrust of others had something to do with her mother leaving. Kira had vague childhood memories of her mom, but her dad had refused to speak of her after she was gone. All Kira knew about her was that she was from a wealthy American family and had met her father when she was vacationing in London. She’d also died penniless four years after she’d left them. Anything else was a mystery, and Kira only knew that much because she’d done a background check after she’d joined the LAPD.
Kira had assumed her father’s classist attitude stemmed from whatever had happened with his marriage, and that attitude had only been exaggerated by being Phillip’s servant. After today, she wasn’t so sure, and the uncertainty hurt so much it burned.
“I know Genesee’s your friend. I don’t have anything against her, really.” Barrett shook his head, his gaze rueful when it met hers. “Shit. What a mess.”
“On all counts.” And she knew he was talking as much about her problems as anything else. He’d smelled Max on her. Of course he had. Max wouldn’t have made the man his executive officer if he were an idiot.
This whole situation was a clusterfuck. Elan going off on her, her affair with Max, Barrett’s affair with Adam, Adam’s yen for Genesee, and on top of all that, some crazed human after the Between king. A headache bloomed behind Kira’s eyes.
