by Lora Leigh
“I’ll run whenever or however I want to.” She pushed her fingers through her hair and backed out of the kitchen. “Leave me alone, Saban. Just leave me the hell alone.”
She turned and stalked to the steps. She had to make sense of this; she had to find a way to balance the things she was learning about him.
He couldn’t just attack people. This mating heat stuff was bad enough. How would either of them survive it without some control? Without one of them thinking sensibly, and it was real damned clear that the one thinking clearly wasn’t going to be him.
All she had to do was get away from him, just for a little while. Away from the sight of him, the remembered taste of him, the aching need for him.
She hit the stairs almost at a run, aware, so very aware that he was behind her, moving with lazy speed, gaining on her, his expression taut, hunger burning in his eyes.
Her breath hitched in her throat; a ragged moan left her lips as she felt his hands grip her hips halfway up the steps, stopping her as his hands moved quickly to the front of her jeans and began working the snap and zipper loose.
“What are you doing?” she screeched, scrambling to capture his wrists, his hands, to stop the quick release of her clothes even as he jerked the material over her hips. “Dammit Saban …”
She went to her knees as a large hand pressed into her back, pushed her forward, and he came over her, dominant, forceful, his lips covering the wound he had left on her shoulder the night before.
Natalie froze as pleasure streaked, exploded, tore through her from that single caress. The area was so sensitive, so violently receptive to his lips, to his stroking tongue, that it stole her breath.
“This won’t solve anything,” she gasped as the head of his cock pressed between her thighs, slid through the slick moisture there, and found the entrance it sought.
He didn’t move his lips; instead, he growled against the wound as his hips pressed forward, burying his erection inside her as Natalie felt needle points of ecstatic pleasure begin to attack every nerve ending he stroked.
“This doesn’t change it,” she panted, fighting the pleasure, fighting her inability to refuse it. “It doesn’t make it right.”
Her back arched as a mewling cry left her lips, and his cock pressed to the hilt inside her, filling her, overtaking her.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He nipped at the wound, causing her head to jerk back against his shoulder, one hand to reach back for him, clamping on his hip as he held her to him.
“I won’t let you control me.”
“Tell me,” he snarled, licked the bite mark, sucked at it with a hungry growl.
“I won’t let you do this.” Her cry was weak, a pitiful, pathetic attempt to defy what she knew, even now, was the truth. A certainty as nothing else in her life had ever been.
His hips flexed, causing his cock to stroke her internally, to rasp against her inner flesh, the swollen, flared head caressing, enflaming tender, sensitive flesh with small thrusts. His lips grazed the wound at her neck once more, then his teeth raked over it, sending violent shudders to race down her back as her senses became overwhelmed, her common sense lost beneath the rush of pleasure.
“Tell me.” Insidious, flavored with dark sensuality, rough and primal, his voice stole through her mind, as his touch stole her reason.
“Yours.” Her cry was rewarded, her submission accepted, and the animal within him broke free.
It was burning, pleasure-pain; each thrust was hard and heavy as control was lost for both of them. As though her admission of his conquest was all he needed to allow his own pleasure free rein.
It was more pleasure than she could process; it was heated and liquid; it burned through flesh and bone and filled her soul where she hadn’t known she had been cold. Cold and lonely and searching for that something more, that reason to give her inner self to another.
She didn’t have a reason, but that didn’t matter. She felt it melting, felt it flowing through her body, pouring from her cells, wrapping around him and drawing his essence into her. And breaking her heart.
In the moment between agonizing pleasure and climax, Natalie admitted it to herself. It wasn’t Saban she was fighting; it was herself. Because she was losing herself in him, giving him parts of her soul that even Mike hadn’t known existed. Giving him parts of her that she hadn’t believed she could share.
And when the climax exploded through her, when it sang through her senses and quaked through her body, she knew she was lost.
Behind her, Saban jerked, snarled. The head of his cock throbbed, the barb, that thumb-sized extension, became erect, pushing past the underside of his cock head and stroking areas too sensitive for touch, already primed, already enflamed as his semen spurted inside her.
He had marked her. Taken her. He possessed her. And unlike Mike, Natalie had a feeling Saban truly could destroy her.
• CHAPTER 9 •
There was a wariness between them, days later, that Natalie couldn’t figure out how to overcome. She didn’t know if she even wanted to overcome it at this point.
The mating heat had her off balance; her emotions, her independence, and the fear Mike had instilled in her through their marriage of being controlled again all battled within her head and within her heart.
A part of her wanted to reach out and take everything Saban seemed to be offering her, yet the other part held back, watched and waited. Nothing could be as easy as this. The mating heat, the sense of everything coming together when his body moved within hers.
The new school season was coming closer by the day. Classes were on a year-round basis, but the six-week break between the final semester and the beginning of new classes gave students and teachers a much-needed vacation before classes began. And it was during that time that the Breed Cabinet had given Natalie a chance to get used to the town and to review the files she had been given on the students assigned to her.
The classroom she had been given was one of the finest she had seen. The computers were state-of-the-art, the room was bright and airy, the tinted windows that lined one wall looked out on the green, well-manicured grounds that surrounded the school.
She knew the glass to those windows was specially made to ensure an assassin’s bullet couldn’t find its way through. Just as she knew that the Board of Education had approved a variety of security measures that would place Breeds in close proximity in and around the school to ensure the protection of the Breed children who would be attending classes.
It was a chance of a lifetime. She would always be known as the first non-Breed teacher to be a part of the education of the exceptional children rumored to have been born of the unions between Breeds and non-Breeds.
That had been part of the excitement of having been chosen for the job, until she met Saban.
Natalie paused in inputting the class schedules she was making up into her personal PC at that thought. Yeah, Saban had changed things. From the day he had arrived at her home, she had known he would change things within her, and because of it, she admitted, she had fought the attraction rising between them.
She had fought him, snapped at him, acted like a shrew and a spoiled brat, searching for ways to irritate him past the wickedly sexy looks he had given her.
A part of her had wanted nothing but to run from him, while another part of her had held on to every look, every word, every second of attraction sizzling between them.
Until she found herself here, staring sightlessly at the half-finished class schedules and the room prepared for incoming students as Saban rechecked the security control room that the Breed children’s bodyguards would use during class.
She looked to the open door, aware of the murmur of his voice, too low to make out what he was saying, but comforting nonetheless. Comforting just because she knew he was there, close, protective.
God she was totally losing her perspective here. The same protectiveness that terrified her when he was defending her against Mike was now comforting
.
She shook her head at the thought, just as she mentally kicked herself for not having anticipated what Mike would do. He had been fine with the divorce and the mistress he’d had on the side the last year of their marriage until he thought she might have someone else in her life.
Then it was all over but the screaming, the fighting, and the accusations. She was well acquainted with all of them.
The surprising part had been that he had actually stayed away from her since the confrontation at the house. She had been terrified he would try to get in again, that he would bring his insanity back to where Saban could choke it out of him.
As she dragged a hand wearily through her hair, her gaze still on the doorway, Saban stepped through it. Tall and rugged, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and boots, a black Breed Enforcer badge clipped to his belt on one side, his weapon worn comfortably in a shoulder holster.
He looked like what he was, a badass Breed ready to fight if the situation warranted it. Ready to love if she would give him half a chance.
He strode across the room, powerful legs eating up the short distance, his brilliant green eyes eating her alive despite the forbidding line of his mouth.
The flat, severe expression was a warning, and one she knew she wasn’t going to like.
“What’s happened?” She rose slowly from her chair, all manner of nightmare visions flashing through her head. Heading it was the fear that Callan Lyons, pride leader of the Ruling Cabinet, had changed his mind about allowing the children to attend the public classes.
He moved to the front of her desk, his brooding gaze flickering over her face before he propped his hands on his hips and scowled. The irritated, aggravated look took her aback.
“I’ve just been informed that your ex has attempted to order Callan Lyons to have me removed from your home based on his suspicions that you have been unduly influenced by me and therefore not in possession of your full mental faculties. He’s threatening to sue me, the Ruling Cabinet, and the Board of Education for being conspirators in my evil designs upon your very luscious body and demanding that you be released from your contract and escorted immediately to his location where he will then return you to your home and get you medical care.”
As he spoke, Natalie felt her lips parting in shocked amazement.
“He wouldn’t dare,” she breathed.
“Oh, he’s dared,” Saban snapped. “Now, tell me again why I shouldn’t kill the son of bitch and put us all out of our misery.”
She only wished he was joking.
“Because it would piss me off?” She flattened her hands against the desk and glared back at him. “Do you think I want bloodshed over someone’s insane jealousy? For God’s sake Saban, why the hell do you think I divorced him?”
“I’m wondering what possessed you to marry him to begin with,” he snorted irritably before running a hand along the back of his neck. “He’s out of control, Natalie. I’m warning you now, the Breed Ruling Cabinet is considering a measure to have him arrested and barred from the area. If he ignores the injunction, he’ll be jailed.”
“Saban—”
“Don’t Saban me,” he growled. “Do you have any idea the threat he poses to the very tenuous agreement the Ruling Cabinet and the Board of Education came to here? Or the threat he poses to you, personally? I’ve warned you, he’s not sane, and this merely proves it.”
“Mike is a little intense sometimes.” She grimaced. “He’ll get tired of this and go away.” She hoped.
He leaned forward. This time he was the one that flattened his hands on the desk as his nose came within inches of hers. “You are fooling yourself.”
Perhaps she was. Shaking her head, Natalie moved away from the desk and walked to the windows. She stared out onto the lush grounds, the tall, thick trees that bordered it, and wondered what she would do if Mike managed to destroy this chance for all of them.
“You should let me talk to him.” She turned to Saban, knowing, even before she did, what she would see.
His eyes narrowed on her, denial reflecting on the hard, savage lines of his face.
“Not gonna happen,” he informed her with a menacing purr. “Do you remember the last encounter? Did he look as though he would listen to you then?”
No, he hadn’t. She breathed out roughly.
“He’s not a bad man,” she finally said softly. “He just wasn’t a good husband.”
“He’s insane. Stop trying to defend him. He’d cart you out of here physically no matter your wishes, if you gave him only half a chance. I don’t intend to give him that chance.”
No, she didn’t either. But Mike had never been dangerous, not really. He was suspicious, paranoid, and sometimes a little over the top, but she couldn’t believe he would hurt anyone.
“When are you going to stop defending him, Natalie?” He crossed his arms over his chest and glowered back at her.
“I’m not defending him.” She hunched her shoulders against the accusation. “I just don’t want you killing him.”
“And if I promise not to kill him?” he rasped coldly. “What then? Will you accept that he’s fucking crazy and at least allow me the satisfaction of throwing him over the county line?”
Her lips almost twitched. He might be a Breed, but at the moment he was pure arrogant, irritated male.
“You should let me talk to him,” she said again, shaking her head. “You have to know how to reason with him, that’s all.”
“Well evidently you don’t know how to do it either, or you wouldn’t have ended up divorced, now would you?”
“Yes, I would have.” She met his gaze without flinching. “Reason or not, Mike couldn’t accept my need to be myself, and I couldn’t accept his need to control me. It was that simple, Saban. Everything else aside, that was what destroyed our marriage.”
“You loved him.” And he hated it. She could see it for the barest second, flashing in his eyes, the knowledge that she had felt something for another man.
Natalie nodded slowly. “When I married him, I loved the illusion he gave me. I loved the man I thought he was.”
His nostrils flared; if it was in anger or in an attempt to scent the truth of her statement, she wasn’t certain.
His arms dropped from his chest as he shook his head then, turning from her and running his hand along the back of his neck as though to rub away the tension there.
“I had a life before you, Saban. Just as you had one before me,” she reminded him.
“I never loved until you.” He turned back to her, that arrogance stronger, tightening his features, brightening his eyes. “But I don’t blame you for the emotions you had for him. Sucks, but there it is. My problem with this is your refusal to admit how dangerous he is.”
“A danger to himself.” That was the sad part, and what Natalie had admitted to herself before taking that final step to divorce him. “He’s not a danger to me, Saban. If he hurt me, he couldn’t continue to be the martyr he sees himself as. The world is against him.” She spread her hands helplessly. “That’s how he sees it. Use force or violence against him, and it’s only going to make him worse.”
She moved then, not certain why the memory of that had her moving to him, walking into the arms that opened for her. Why did she even need to be held? Mike was out of her life, at least for the most part. She didn’t need comforting, and she knew Saban sure as hell didn’t need it. He was arrogant enough for a dozen men.
But there she was, folded against his chest, his hands rubbing against her back, his warmth enfolding her.
The arousal that had remained a low throb inside her all day wasn’t building; the hormonal adjustments the doctor had made the day before had made it safe for her and Saban to actually leave the house for longer than five minutes. So it wasn’t overwhelming hunger driving her.
She felt his lips press to the top of her head, though, and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips.
For two days they had avoided the subject of Mik
e, as though he were a grenade in danger of exploding between them.
“Something will have to be done about him, Natalie,” he said softly, one hand curling beneath her chin to lift her face to allow his eyes to meet hers. “This won’t continue.”
She nodded slowly, regretfully. Yes, something would have to be done, and she knew she would have to do it. She couldn’t allow Mike to be hurt. He wasn’t a bad man, as she had told Saban. He was just a very needy man, a man who refused to accept that things couldn’t always go his way. Once he accepted he had lost, though, he would give up, lick his wounds, and torture some other poor woman who didn’t have the sense to see through the sad stories he wove.
She had seen through them a long time ago, and now, as she stood in Saban’s arms, she was willing to admit that she didn’t want Mike’s accusations and his paranoia to damage what she was finally admitting to being between them.
She had a chance here for the love she had dreamed of, for the life she wanted. She couldn’t let Mike destroy that. She couldn’t let herself destroy it, because she was learning that Saban just might be a man she could depend on. A man she could be free with.
• CHAPTER 10 •
She was up to something. As the day went by, Saban could watch the gears working in her mind. It was fascinating, watching her, sensing her turning the problem of her ex-husband over in her mind until he wanted to snarl in jealous fury at the knowledge that she was thinking about him.
He didn’t want her thinking about another man. He wanted to wipe Mike Claxton with his smarmy smile and avaricious gaze completely out of her memory.
Knowing he couldn’t grated at his temper. Knowing she was trying to figure out how to do his job and get rid of the bastard only made things worse.
He watched the process, though, and cataloged each shift of expression, each changing scent of emotion as she worked in the schoolroom, and later as they ate dinner at one of Buffalo Gap’s better restaurants.
The hormonal adjustment Ely had given her the day before, as well as the adjusted capsule she took that morning had eased the heat enough to allow Natalie to think rather than to fuck with instinctive abandon. He would have preferred the abandon, he had to admit, because there was no hormonal treatment for the males.
