When she opened her eyes, he loomed over her. He’d got his sweats off without her noticing then the head of his cock nudged her entrance. His eyes were clear and intense.
“You’re so beautiful, Sara Beth,” he whispered as he pushed inside her. “And you’re mine.”
She would have objected, but he kept their bodies connected and sat back on his heels, then pulled her so her butt rested on his thighs. He kept a firm grip on her hips and started moving in slow deep strokes that stole her voice. His eyes bore into hers in a silent demand she couldn’t interpret, but one which made her heart race and filled her with yearning. She lifted her hands to stroke his chest, flicked her nails over small hard nipples. The skin drew tight over his face and he clenched his jaw.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Not a fucking thing, baby,” he practically snarled. He took one of her hands and moved it to where they were joined. “How could you ever think something was wrong with this?”
Heat flooded her face, but she didn’t protest when he moved her fingers to her clit.
“Touch yourself for me. I want to watch you come again,” he said.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and did as he requested. She never took her eyes from his face as her embarrassment faded and desire spiked, but his gaze stayed focused much lower, presumably on her fingers as she strummed her clit. His cheeks were streaked red, his eyes hot and clouded, and his rapt attention made her brazen. She’d never been brave enough with her former lovers to make demands in bed. She’d never been wild and wanton, but he was bringing out the urge. She let go of his arm and moved it to cup her breast. His eyes widened and he blew out a shaky, strained breath.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered, leaning down to take the nipple she’d subconsciously offered him.
Patrick wasn’t sure his heart would hold out. The taste and feel of her nipple—sweet and soft—in his mouth, coupled with the feel of her slick, tight grasp as he fucked her was enough to drive him crazy. He could lose himself in her forever and die happy. He watched her face as he suckled her. Watched as she became lost in ecstasy as her cunt gripped him hard.
He released her nipple, threw his head back and froze, desperately holding back his orgasm. Not yet. He wanted more of this incredible sensation before he let it end, because once it did, she would probably revert to fighting him. When the shudders wracking her body subsided, he stretched out over her and started moving again.
His teeth sharpened beak-hard as he struggled against the instinct to claim her. His bite would mark her for everyone to see. It would connect them so deeply even she couldn’t deny she was his. It was a primal instinct, a demand from the eagle part of him that was afraid of losing his mate. He watched as her eyes cleared, as doubt began to enter her expression, and swore a blade twisted in his gut.
“Don’t,” he whispered, feeling the words wrenched from him. “Don’t regret this. Don’t fight it.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she answered just as softly.
“You’ll understand soon enough, baby,” he promised. Once she opened her heart and accepted. He vowed not to push her, to give her time to get to know him better, but he refused to fail and he would use every skill at his disposal to seduce her to his cause.
Starting with the beautiful body pinned under his. Unable to resist temptation any longer, he let his control slip and took her the way the lust roaring in his veins demanded. Hard and fast and a little rough. She grabbed his biceps and hung on as he pounded into her. Her cunt grew slicker, hotter with each thrust and he was damned relieved. He wasn’t sure he had the power to stop if she didn’t come along for the ride. Just when he thought he couldn’t hold back one more second, she convulsed around him.
He stared into her eyes for every spasm, snared by the passion reflected back at him. Wild and pure and honest. The sound of his name on her lips as she came broke his last bit of civility. The eagle took over and wouldn’t be denied its mate. As the orgasm exploded from the base of his spine and his seed spurted into her, he found the curve of her neck. First with a kiss, then a teasing nip, before he bit down and sucked. He broke the skin and heard the eagle’s exultant scream in his mind. The ecstasy of marking her was so intense, he was consumed.
It seemed like forever before he had the strength to let her go. He licked the wound on her neck then pressed a soft kiss against it, before easing from her body. He rolled to his side, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. She was small and he knew he was probably crushing her. He stared down at her. She was limp and pliant, a subtle curve of satisfaction on her lips. He wanted to see it every time he fucked her.
But he knew that sweet, satiated look was bound to be short-lived and he was right. Her eyes flew open and she lifted her hand to his mark.
Chapter Five
“Have you lost your tiny little bird mind? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she screeched.
Funny. He didn’t know foxes could make that noise. Now was probably not the time to point it out to her. He didn’t appreciate the aspersion on his intelligence either, but they’d get to that later.
“I knew exactly what I was doing, foxy. Every step of the way.”
Or thrust of the way, as it was and he’d done it even knowing she wasn’t ready. He should feel guilty but it was hard when she was looking at him with a mix of fury and building desire. He wanted to kiss her until the rage faded and the passion blazed out of control. But damn, the more he thought about it, the more irritated he got. He’d just had the best sex of his life, and he was pretty sure she had too.
He could understand confusion, even ire, but her reaction seemed over the top. They were both shifters, both in their thirties. They understood instinct, and mating was instinct. But instead of trying to get to know him better, she was resistant. It made him angry, but more than that, he was disappointed and perplexed. He hadn’t gone looking for a mate, but he’d never rejected the idea of finding one. He’d never imagined turning away from his when he did meet her. He rubbed a hand over his face and tried to figure out what to do next, but he didn’t have a clue. Why hadn’t anyone warned him claiming a mate would be such a test?
He glanced at her and was struck by how vulnerable she looked. She’d regained enough control the scent of rage had faded, along with any lingering arousal. She smelled like Sara Beth again—sweet with that hint of hidden fire. He inhaled deeply, taking it in, and noticed something else. Something it took him a long time to define.
Pain.
He reached over before he could think about it. She slapped at his hands, but he was bigger, stronger and faster. He yanked the blankets away and ran shaking hands over her, searching for signs he’d hurt her.
“What are you doing?” she snapped.
He met a gaze that was more testy than mad. “Your scent. What’s the hurt from, baby? I only left one mark on your body.”
The scent grew sharper, but she didn’t flinch when he touched the bite.
“Shit,” he muttered. She wasn’t physically hurt. That was emotional pain. Why? “What’s going on, Sara Beth? Did you have a boyfriend I didn’t know about? A lover?”
If she did, he’d get rid of him damn quick.
She got out of bed, found her gown and pulled it back on. “You got any beer left?” she asked.
“Ignoring me won’t work. I’ll keep asking.”
She gave him an impatient look until he sighed and stood. He didn’t bother with his sweats when he noticed her trying to avoid looking at his body, though. She was very appreciative of his physique and he wasn’t above using sex to get her to open up.
“Get back in bed,” he ordered. “I’ll get you a drink.”
He grabbed two beers and hurried back. She held out her hand when he climbed into bed but he didn’t give the bottle to her right away. He set both drinks on the nightstand and pulled her into his arms. There was no resistance in her body. He tilted her chin up with a finger.
She gave him a half smile. “There’s more to life than sex. What happens when the chemistry fades?”
“You know that doesn’t happen between mates,” he said softly, gently.
He could see she did believe it was possible for the desire to die. Who the hell had she been hanging out with, because he’d never seen it. She shook her head and retreated from his embrace. He let her. For now. But there was no way he was giving up on her, or backing off for more than a couple of hours. She needed time to adjust? Fine. He’d give it to her, but he’d never let her go.
He twisted the tops off the bottles and handed her the drink, waiting till she took a long drink before he spoke.
“What now?” he asked.
He’d already taken one decision away from her. He wouldn’t take more unless her life was jeopardized. But he was convinced that she would choose to stay with him. He was a predator. He was patient. And if he couldn’t seduce his own mate, what use was he?
She laughed. “You’re asking me? Isn’t it a little late for that?”
“I can’t undo it.” He wouldn’t if he could. He was unrepentant.
“And you don’t regret it.” Her tone was waspish but he heard doubt too.
“No, I don’t, baby,” he said, pouring all the sincerity he felt into his answer. He took a drink from his bottle. “What happened to you?”
“Huh?”
“You talk about work and houses and you ooze confidence. You carry yourself like you own the world. You aren’t afraid to say exactly what’s on your mind.”
She was looking at him like he’d grown two heads and he realized she didn’t see herself the way he saw her.
“If that was true I would have told Michael and my dad to shove it where the sun don’t shine when they insisted I come up here.”
He was sure she’d bitten her lip repeatedly to keep from doing so. “They are your alphas,” he pointed out. “Or were.”
He was the more dominant person in their mating. There was no question of her leaving her clan to join his. He was pretty sure that was one thing she wouldn’t fight him over.
She didn’t. She laughed. “Well, there is a silver lining then.”
“There’s more than one, foxy.”
At the not-so-subtle allusion to sex, she withdrew.
“There you go, doing it again.”
“What?” she asked, exasperated.
He watched her carefully. Her eyes were shiny as if she was close to tears and she refused to hold his gaze.
“You’re not afraid of sex.”
She couldn’t have faked her response to him. She glared at him, but remained silent.
“Or me. Or, despite what happened today, men.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“No. It’s more like distrust.”
“You’re a little paranoid, you know?”
He shook his head. “Nope. But I am relentless. Ask Ajax.”
“I’d love to,” she muttered. He got the impression she’d like to do it in person and use her old friend as a buffer.
“So what, exactly, is your objection to being my mate?”
So what if his voice was clipped and angry? Hopefully, he’d egg her into a real answer. He needed to know why. He already couldn’t imagine not having her in his life.
“For how long?” she snapped back. “How long till you get bored and want to move on? You kind of removed that option, didn’t you?”
Okay, that was the last thing he expected to hear and it really burned his ass. He took the beer from her hand, set both on the nightstand and turned to glare at her.
“How could I possibly get bored when you spend all your time trying to piss me off?”
“You should have thought about that before you bit me,” she said, her voice sugary.
“Keep it up, sweetheart, and I’ll bite you again.”
She sucked in a deep breath and it wasn’t from fear or anger. Gods, save him. She was hot and welcoming. His mate. How could he resist? He didn’t want to. He wanted her scent on his skin, wanted her to be so much a part of him no one would ever doubt they belonged together. He set his palms on either side of her waist and lowered himself over her until she lay against the pillows. Her hair spread out around her and she licked her lips, not quite panting. He leaned down to nip the smooth skin under her ear.
“You don’t object to that idea, do you, Sara Beth?” he whispered. “You’ll take this from me but reject everything else.”
“No.” She gasped when he sucked her skin. “It’s not like that.”
He gripped her gown and tugged it up. Over her waist, exposing her breasts. He licked one nipple then the other. She tried to arch into him but he held her still.
“What is it like? Explain it to me.”
She stared at him, regret in her eyes.
“I tried. I’m not adventurous or outgoing or…exciting. I’ll bore you, Patrick, and one day you’ll resent that.”
He stared at her a minute, taking in her scent and sudden tension in her body. She really believed that crap and he knew nothing he said would change her mind. She’d have to see for herself she was wrong. That he’d much rather have a mate who stayed home with him than one who wandered the world risking her neck.
“You’ll see, Sara Beth. I’m not the man you think I am. I won’t live up to those expectations of yours.”
“Well,” she said, a hint of heat and amusement lighting her eyes. She wiggled around, spreading her thighs so he rested between them. “Some of those expectations are pretty high.”
She lifted her hands to his chest and scratched. Rolled her pelvis to rub against his cock. She was teasing him. Tempting him. Trying to distract him and it was definitely working. Maybe the trick to convincing her they belonged together was to keep her satisfied, so replete she never imagined leaving his bed.
She thought he would get bored. He grinned.
“What’s that look for?” she asked suspiciously.
“I was just thinking,” he said, thrusting into her. Her gasp of pleasure filled his senses, her pussy clenched around his cock, and he almost lost his train of thought.
“Thinking what?”
“Boredom will never be a problem. I can be very inventive, baby,” he crooned.
Passion clouded her eyes. “Show me.”
Chapter Six
From the safety of a vacationing neighbor’s house, Victor King watched several shapeshifters scurry around like the animals they were. Wolves and foxes who could take human form. He hadn’t believed it was possible until he’d seen for himself, and he’d been hunting game since he was a child.
He’d been hired to take the female. Sara Beth Reynard. He had watched her for weeks to get confirmation she was, in fact, one of the shapeshifters the scientists wanted. As soon as he’d seen her change shape with his own eyes, he’d put a plan into action. Unfortunately, he’d miscalculated and she’d escaped to the house he watched now. Her father’s. The neighborhood teemed with patrols. Men and women he could only assume were like her. So many. How could there be so many and humanity not know about them?
As he watched, Sara Beth stepped out the front door and walked to a waiting truck. He seethed. He couldn’t leave the safety of his hideaway yet. Couldn’t follow her, and he was damned sure they were trying to hide her away somewhere. He lifted the camera from the living room table and zoomed in on the faces around her before returning to her.
She was becoming an obsession.
There was something bewitching about her. She was pretty enough, but that wasn’t it. She was so much more. It was the way she moved, with an easy sensual and evocative grace. The few times he’d been close enough to hear her voice, he’d been entranced. There was a husky timbre to it, a seduction that almost seemed subconscious. But she was a fox. They were cunning and sly. She had to be aware of her affect on others. It had to be calculated on her part. He’d noted similar qualitie
s in other females of her race, though she seemed different. Somehow she was more. Sexier. More alluring. He couldn’t explain why, but he intended to find out.
When he went after her the next time, he’d have to be better prepared for her wiles. He could have taken her that morning, but he’d been mesmerized standing so close—then she’d screamed. He’d almost had her in his grasp. If only those last two wolves hadn’t been so near.
Next time he would be better prepared. The next time he’d capture her. He simply had to research her connections. Her pack’s. He’d figure out where they were taking her, and the opportunity to catch her would arise.
Chapter Seven
She was going stir crazy. Pretty amusing, actually, since she’d accused Patrick of not being a homebody while claiming she was. Twenty-four hours after the snow had stopped, he showed no signs of cabin fever—seemed totally happy to be cooped up. Of course, he hadn’t been idle. He’d had her in every room of the house. He was insatiable. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to convince her they should be mates through pure exhaustion.
She turned from the living room window to study him. He was lying on his back on a thick rug in front of the roaring fireplace. Reading a book. He flipped pages every couple minutes, appeared calm and relaxed. She wondered if anyone else would notice the tension tightening his body. It was subtle, hard to read, but she’d spent a lot of time studying that form in the last day. There was no way to miss his hard-on. Despite that, he was calm and reserved and it just didn’t seem freaking fair. He should suffer like she was. He didn’t say a word as she approached and straddled him.
He peeked over his paperback. And who the hell read paper books anymore? “Don’t you have an e-reader?” she snapped.
“Of course.” He cocked an eyebrow. “But I also read paper. And I don’t want to waste our limited power on charging the reader right now.”
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