Desire Unchained

Where was he?

The sound of footsteps vibrated in her ears, still sensitive from her shift. Yes. Heart pounding, she stood and swept up the blanket to cover herself. She’d stripped last night before she’d morphed into beast form, and now she wished she’d dressed this morning.

When Shade rounded the corner, she wasn’t sure if she was relieved to see him or not. He filled the doorway, both massive shoulders brushing the sides of the stone frame, his broad chest expanding with each forceful breath. The scent of his arousal and anger came to her on a hot draft of air.

Excitement shot through her. Uncontrollable, shivery excitement.

“Damn you,” he said, in a voice that had been scraped over sandpaper. “Damn you for making me burn like this. For you.”

Even dressed in scrubs, he stole her breath. He was carrying a bag of fast food, and his eyes were gold lasers that burned everywhere his gaze lit on her skin. He said nothing as he tossed the food to the floor and closed the distance between them.

She sighed his name, hating that she’d done it but unable to take it back. Not when she was already on fire for him. She closed her eyes, waited for him to kiss her, but he spun her, pushed her against the wall so his chest pressed against her back. His erection prodded her backside through the fabric of his scrub bottoms, and she couldn’t help but rub herself against him like some sort of feline in heat.

“I hate how you do that to me,” she whispered.

He popped her hips back with one hand splayed on her belly. “Do what?” He roughly kicked her feet apart.

“Make me forget how much I dislike you.”

“Welcome to my world.” He slapped his palms on the stone on either side of her head and covered her body with his. “I don’t want this, but here I am.”

For a moment she thought he’d take her like that, against the wall. But he remained motionless, dominating her in a primitive, animal message. The male animal was larger, stronger, and he would have his way with his female.

She began to tremble with forbidden, naughty anticipation. One of his hands tore away the blanket she still held uselessly to her breasts as the other clamped down on her hipbone and turned her to bring her hard against him. His erection ground into her belly, an immense, unyielding presence.

“Touch me.” His fingers dug into her hip while the other hand came up to tangle in her hair. “Do it now.” His pelvis arched into her, a not-so-subtle command.

Oh, yes. She wanted—needed—to touch him. But the beast still raged inside, desperate for more than a merely pleasant release. It wanted wild and erotic, with an edge of danger.

Her core went molten at that thought.

Feeling frisky and aggressive and more than a little stubborn, she nipped his collarbone hard enough to make him suck air. “Make me.”

His body went steel-rod stiff. “What did you just say?”

She boldly met his gaze. “I said, make me.”

He looked so floored, so utterly shocked that she almost laughed. Almost, because instantly, his shock veered sharply to anger. The hand that had been in her hair grabbed her wrist. She snarled, struggled against him, but he didn’t give an inch. He brought her hand inside his pants and forced her to palm his cock.

“Now,” he said, in a deep, guttural rasp, “stroke me.”

Their gazes were still locked. The predator in her got all hackles-raised at the challenge in his eyes. The female in her got all shivery. The woman who had done a lot of growing up in the last eleven months decided that it didn’t like being ordered around. It was time to show this male that she wasn’t going to roll over and play the submissive.

Smiling, she closed her fingers around his thick length. It pulsed in her grip, the hot blood pounding in a raging tide against her palm. The head pushed up through the ring of her fist, which she couldn’t close fully. He felt good, so good … she waited until the glint of triumph sparked in his eyes—and then she shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled back. She sank into a crouch, ready to spring.

“You—”

She struck him in the gut with her shoulder, putting her entire body into the hit. He grunted and fell backward, coming down on the bed more gracefully than she’d have liked.

Her victory was short-lived. He came at her like a tank, spun her and slammed her face-first to the floor hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. He pinned her with his weight, his long body stretched out on top of hers.

Hot breath fanned across her cheek as he growled into her ear, “What happened to my timid little Runa?”

Timid. The reminder of the power he’d had over her, the power to break her heart, really ticked her off.