Untamed Hunger

by Tiffany Roberts

  The laughter that rose from Drakkal’s chest was rich and pure, and it felt good.

  If this is madness, keep it coming.

  Ten

  As the elevator doors closed, Shay peeked at Drakkal from the corner of her eye. Though she was average height for a female human, she felt incredibly small beside him; his presence seemed to fill the entire lift. His leather and clove scent permeated the air, and heat radiated from his body. Shay was tempted to move closer to him.

  Really tempted.

  Spending time with him had been…nice. Nicer than she’d expected. Beneath his gruffness, he was actually quite funny, and he’d made her laugh several times as they ate. But his demeanor had changed as soon as they’d left the restaurant. He grew quieter, more alert, and kept so close to her that it should’ve made her uncomfortable. But she hadn’t felt uncomfortable, not even a little. She’d felt protected. For once, she hadn’t had to constantly look over her shoulder, hadn’t had to worry about someone following her and attempting to attack or kidnap her.

  While she was with Drakkal, Shay felt like she could overcome anything this city threw at her. And it was nice to let her guard down a little. It was nice to have someone watching her back. To have someone she could depend on.

  Getting a little ahead of yourself there, Shay. You barely know the guy.

  With a faint shuddering, the elevator began its ascent.

  Regardless, she had a feeling that Drakkal was what her father had called good people. That he could be trusted. It had been a long time since she’d known someone like that.

  The elevator jerked and stuttered, metal grinding and screeching. Shay threw out a hand to steady herself, but before her hand touched the wall, she found herself enveloped in azhera. Drakkal had wrapped his big arms around her and drawn her against his chest, leaning forward to shield her body with his. He was solid and steady. Warmth cocooned her, and she readily inhaled his spicy scent.

  “I’ve got you, kiraia,” he said, his voice a low rumble that she felt as much as heard.

  Shay cleared her throat and patted his chest, barely resisting the urge to run her palm over the hard muscle beneath his shirt. Fuck me, this male is ripped. “It, uh, does that a lot.”

  The elevator stabilized, but it took Drakkal a few seconds to release his hold on her. Not that she minded. She actually…liked it. A lot. She liked his heat, his solidness, liked the way his arms embraced her and the feel of his strong, rough hands on her body. It was doing all kinds of funny things inside her. Funny, pleasurable things.

  When he finally stepped back, she glanced up at his face to find his pupils thinned to slits and his ears forward. His tail whipped through the air behind him, its movements fluid but restless.

  “Still, Shay…I’ve got you.”

  Somehow, those words found their way into her chest, sparking a warm, fluttering ache. Shay lifted a hand to rub at it. Not a second later, she felt a little kick in her belly. She could imagine her baby giving her a nudge and saying, Well, Mom?

  “Um, thanks,” she replied.

  Yeah, that was totally not awkward sounding. What the hell, Shay?

  The lift came to a grinding halt, and the doors noisily slid open. Shay hurried out. It felt like things were moving too fast with Drakkal, but it was only her lack of alarm about it that worried her. Unfortunately, the move into the hallway did not bring an improvement in environment.

  “Aww, hell,” she muttered.

  Two males were fist-fighting in the middle of the corridor, and of course they were between the elevator and Shay’s apartment door. They were both big—something she was getting used to by now—and they didn’t seem to be taking it easy on one another. The larger of the two was a naked four-armed onigox who looked to be at least a head taller than Drakkal. The other was one of her neighbors, the cren named Ostik—just as tall as his opponent, but leaner, with a pair of tusks jutting up from his lower jaw.

  The onigox seemed to have the advantage, though Ostik was dishing out a good deal of punishment despite his foe’s greater mass and extra set of limbs.

  A female cren—Zira—stood a meter or two away from the combatants, her eyes fixed on the melee. She looked far more excited than concerned.

  The two cren lived in the apartment two doors down from hers. Whenever Shay heard neighbors arguing—or fucking—it was usually these Ostik and Zira. She’d never seen the onigox before, but her gut-feeling speculation here was that Zira hadn’t only been fucking the Ostik.

  Drakkal growled and stepped around Shay.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He turned his head to look at her. “Your apartment is down the hall.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So why would we stop here?”

  “We’re not. But you got all growly and stepped in front of me, so…” She shrugged, hands out, palms up.

  Ostik kicked the onigox and launched himself at his larger opponent with a roar, slamming him into the wall.

  Drakkal shifted his attention back to the fight, lifted his hands, and tugged off his coat. He handed it to Shay. “Yeah, because I know how situations like this usually go.”

  Shay accepted the coat and watched as he stalked forward, unable but to focus on his ass in those tight, black pants, and the hypnotizing sway of his tail. He really, really had a nice ass.

  Stop it, Shay. Eyes up.

  Before Drakkal reached the fighting males, Zira pushed herself away from the wall and approached him. Her yellow eyes were intent upon the azhera, and a flirtatious smile had curved her lips. She was dressed only in lingerie, similar to a baby doll nightie, its fabric sheer and glimmering—and it left nothing to the imagination regarding the body beneath. She had long, toned limbs and supple blue skin. Her tall, athletic figure made Shay feel even smaller and more inadequate, especially with the bowling ball that had taken residence in her belly.

  Sorry, Baby. I don’t mean that.

  The female cren seemed totally unbothered by the green moisture dripping down her inner thighs.

  Shay cringed.

  Oh, her man definitely just walked in on her in bed with that onigox.

  “Azhera,” Zira purred, reaching out to brush her fingers down Drakkal’s arm. “You look like you need a rough fuck.”

  What. The fuck?

  Shay narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. Something burned in her chest, something hot and lethal, something she couldn’t identify—but it definitely wasn’t heartburn. This discomfort wasn’t a result of her pregnancy.

  She curled her hands into fists, squeezing Drakkal’s coat. She wanted—needed—to hit something. And that something was the female easing closer to Drakkal, about to press her nasty, splooge-covered body against him.

  “Bitch, back off,” Shay snapped.

  Startled, Zira looked at Shay as though just noticing her presence.

  Drakkal glared at the female cren, who’d taken hold of his arm with both hands. Voice barely more than a low growl, he said, “She is my female, and I will not hold her back if you choose to disobey her.”

  She is my female.

  An entirely different heat bloomed in Shay at the sound of his claim.

  Whoa! Simmer down, Shay. No one is claiming anyone.

  …Right?

  Zira chuckled. “I don’t mind sharing.”

  “Never would’ve guessed it,” Drakkal muttered.

  “Zira!”

  Shay looked past Drakkal at the female to see Ostik—he was the one who’d spoken—and his onigox opponent now separated by a few meters of space. Both were battered and bloody, their postures hunched with chests and shoulders heaving. They were glaring at Drakkal now, as though his presence had given them a common enemy.

  Ostik’s eyebrows fell low. “I saw you here yesterday, azhera. Are you with my female, too?”

  “Kraasz ka’val.” Drakkal shook off the female cren. “I did not come here for a fight.”

  Zira stumbled back and bumped into the wall.r />
  Drakkal kept his focus on the other two males. Though he didn’t assume any sort of fighting stance, Shay noted the slight change of his posture—he sank just a touch lower, shifting his muscles into a ready position, the claws on his right hand extended by half a centimeter or so, and his mane bristled.

  “Damn it,” Shay said. Striding forward, she grabbed Drakkal’s right arm and settled her gaze on the male cren. “He isn’t fucking your woman because he’s fucking me. Now get the fuck back and let us through. Then you can get back to knocking the piss out of each other. Or, maybe, you accept that she’s playing you both and kick her to the curb.”

  She gave Drakkal’s arm a tug as she continued forward, past the males gaping at her and the female glaring at her. Drakkal’s powerful muscles were tense, but he offered no resistance.

  When they reached Shay’s door, she shoved her hand into her pocket, withdrew her keycard, and held it up to the reader. The door whisked open. She stepped inside, pulling Drakkal in after her.

  As soon as the door closed, she released him, glanced over her shoulder, and pointed at him. “No funny business.”

  His brows fell, and he frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means behave yourself.” Shay walked over to the table to drape Drakkal’s coat over one of the chairs before removing her hair tie. She massaged her scalp as her hair fell loose. Putting one hand on the table for balance, she kicked off her boots. Once her feet were free, she sighed and wiggled her toes.

  They’d had to stop twice so Shay could relieve herself on their way here from the restaurant. Thankfully, she didn’t have to pee now. Drakkal hadn’t complained, but she was tired of going all the damned time.

  He followed her into the room, though he left a couple meters between them. “Why behave? I just heard we’re fucking now.”

  Shay turned to face him, ready to put him in his place if he really thought her words in the hall had meant anything, but stopped when she saw the amusement—and traces of heat—in his eyes. She smirked. “You wish, azhera.”

  “Yeah, I do,” he replied.

  His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned away to study her little apartment, walking slowly as he examined everything—not that there was much to see. At least it spared her the embarrassment of him seeing her reaction to his words—the way her skin flushed, the way she squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache of her clenching pussy. The heat that had been in his voice, in his eyes, paired with his total lack of hesitation in answering…

  I’m too damn horny for this. I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones. It has to be the hormones.

  “So?” she prompted, desperate to change the subject.

  “I’m willing any time, kiraia,” he said, continuing his slow perusal of her apartment.

  “Azhera, you know that’s not what I meant.”

  When he didn’t immediately answer, Shay frowned and glanced around the apartment. The place was already familiar; she knew it wasn’t much to look at, knew it was a dump. That was no fault of her own. But she still couldn’t stop the shame that was pulsing up the back of her neck now, feeling like flames spreading over her skin.

  She cared about what Drakkal thought. She didn’t want him to look at her any differently now that he’d been in her apartment, now that he was really seeing it.

  You’re acting like a teenager, Shay. Get your shit together.

  She pulled out a chair and eased herself onto it. “Tell me all about your super-secret criminal career.”

  Drakkal leaned close to the wall and scratched at a stain with a claw—one of many that had been present when she moved in and would likely be present long after she was dead. He scowled and made a decidedly disapproving grunt before turning and walking toward the table. Before he reached the empty chair, his eyes flicked to her pallet, and he paused, tilting his head. He gave her a questioning glance and stepped over to her bed.

  Her brows drew down. “What?”

  He bent down and snatched up his coat from atop her pallet. He looked at her over his shoulder after he straightened, holding her gaze as he slowly—so slowly—raised the jacket to his nose. His nostrils flared with an inhalation, and his eyelids drifted shut. He made a low, rumbling sound that was somewhere between a growl and a purr. A damned purr.

  I think I just came.

  Shay suddenly recalled how she’d started her morning.

  Eyes wide, she leapt from her chair and crossed the room, holding out a hand. “Give me that!”

  Keeping the jacket raised, Drakkal turned away from her, shielding the garment with his body. “You sure you want to waste time talking, Shay?”

  “It’s not wasting time,” she said, standing on her toes and leaning against him as she reached for the jacket. “Now give me back my jacket!”

  “Can’t. Smells too good.” He turned toward Shay just enough for her to see him rub the fabric against his cheek and draw in another deep breath.

  How could she be so mortified and turned on all at once?

  “I’ll give it to you if you promise to wear it for me again,” he finally said.

  Shay stepped back, held her hand out, and glared up at him. “Fine. Give it to me and I’ll put it on.”

  The visible corner of his mouth lifted in a devilish smirk that displayed one of his wicked fangs. “Only this.”

  Make that mortified, amused, and fucking aroused.

  She wasn’t used to this kind of playfulness, and never would’ve expected it from Drakkal…but it was a very good look on him.

  And it was also a distraction from the true purpose of his visit—he’d come to offer her work and a safe place to live. She needed to know that she could trust him, that she wasn’t going to get involved in something she’d regret. She couldn’t make that mistake again.

  Keeping her gaze locked with his, she curled her lips in a sensual smile and leaned forward, letting her hair fall around her face. She beckoned him with a finger. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.”

  Drakkal’s ears perked, and he finally lowered the jacket and turned to face her. Though surprise and suspicion crept into his expression, they were overpowered by the desire still burning in his eyes. “I don’t like being called kitty,” he said as he took a step toward her, but his voice was sultry instead of annoyed.

  She lifted her chin and stared up at him with hooded eyes. “Yes, you do.”

  He hummed thoughtfully and came to a stop immediately in front of her. “Only when you say it, kiraia.”

  Shay lifted a hand and settled it on his cheek. The fur beneath her palm was softer than she’d anticipated. His eyelids drooped, and his lips parted. She slid her hand along the back of his neck and into the thicker fur of his mane. A shudder traveled from his body into hers, accompanied by another of those rumbling purrs.

  “Good,” she said softly, easing closer. “Then you’ll also like it when I say you’d been a bad kitty.” Curling her fingers into a fist, she gave his mane a yank.

  He winced, and the noise that emerged from him was somehow a snarl and a hiss at once. Before he could recover, she snatched the jacket out of his hand, released her hold on his mane, and retreated from him, dropping a hand to rest over the blaster on her hip.

  The pain on his face quickly gave way to an amused smirk—as though he’d not really been hurt at all.

  “If you don’t want to rut, you shouldn’t be teasing me like this,” he said in a husky voice.

  The tension eased from her as soon as she realized he wasn’t going to retaliate. She stared at him questioningly, unable to shake her lingering wariness, before returning to her chair. She sat with the jacket folded protectively over her lap and both arms atop it, one hand clamped on the fabric.

  The remembered feel of his soft fur, his heat, lingered on her palm.

  “Enough playing around, azhera,” she said. Things were getting too…relaxed with him. “Spill it. What do you do?”

  He approached slowly; despite his leisurely
pace, he put off the air of a predator confidently stalking its prey. Shay couldn’t stop her eyes from dipping to the prominent bulge at his crotch—which was definitely larger than it had been a few moments ago. Her core clenched as the fires in her belly roared to new heights. She tightened her hold on the jacket.

  Fuck. Me.

  Focus Shay!

  She wrenched her gaze from his groin and forced her eyes to his.

  Drakkal’s grin had only widened—fully baring his sexy fangs—by the time he reached the empty chair across from her and sat down. His expression said I know what you’re thinking, Shay. I can smell it.

  “I run a forgery operation with my partner,” he said. “I handle security and logistics; he does the forging.”

  “Forging what?”

  “Identification chips. He’s very thorough. We haven’t had a single chip flagged by the Consortium as fake. Which is surprising, given how often he has his head up his own ass.”

  Shay arched a brow. The mirth with which Drakkal had spoken told her there really wasn’t any bad blood between him and his partner. “That’s it? You make fake IDs?”

  “Yeah, that’s it as far as our day-to-day.” He tilted his head and folded his big arms across his chest. The stance would’ve seemed standoffish on most people, but Drakkal gave it a casualness that should’ve been impossible given his size and appearance. “We’ve had to break a few other laws from time to time. It’s inevitable. But the ID chips are our only criminal enterprise.”

  “So…no drugs, sex trafficking, or contract killing?”

  Drakkal shook his head. “Never killed anyone for money.”

  “But you do kill people.”

  “I have. Probably will have to again.”

  “Did they deserve it?”

  “Some of them did.”

  Shay frowned. “And the others?”

  Separating his arms, Drakkal leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. The move strengthened the shadows on his face just enough to create a faint, reflected glow in his eyes. “Depends on who you ask.”