Red and Her Wolf (Kingdom, #3)

“Ewan,” she whispered.

“Ssh, lass… almost… there.” He kissed her lips, tasting her fears, her lust, and with one last surge, broke through.

Violet hissed, going completely still.

Ewan breathed through his nose, trying hard not to move when everything inside him screamed to buck. So tight. So warm. Perfect. His head swam.

After a moment she started to wiggle and slowly he pumped into her. In and out.

“Oh.” She said and then started to move, finding the perfect rhythm.

Grunting, he pushed harder.

“Oooh,” she laughed. “Ohhh, now I see why everyone does this.”

Then there were no more words. Ewan wasn’t going to last. “Red,” he moaned, fingers gripped her waist tight. “Are ye close?”

She danced on him, her breasts bouncing beneath the sweater. Unable to resist, he released her waist and slipped his hands underneath, latching onto the plump globes.

Violet writhing when he pinched her nipples. “Something, it’s building… so… ahhh,” she threw her head back, exposing the beating pulse of her neck.

The same spot he’d bitten her before. Now smooth and unmarred. Growling, he licked at it. Pumping harder and harder. Then he bit and she screamed. “Ewan!”

Darkness spiraled through his gut, through his legs, out the tip of his cock as he unloaded his seed in hot spurts.

“Red. My Red,” he moaned, slow to come back to himself. His head was dizzy, his legs like jelly. He pinched her firm rump.

She laughed, twining her fingers through his hair. A lazy gleam in her eyes. A fine sheen of sweat covered her face. “Sorry, about last night,” she said.

“Ye can make it up to me later.” He nipped the spot on her neck where he’d bitten her. Then kissed it tenderly, contented and at peace with his place in the world.

She kissed the corner of his lips, brushing sweaty hair out of her eyes. “I thought you said wolves did it rough.” Violet punched his chest. “That wasn’t bad at all.”

His eyes widened and he growled low in his throat. “That was for yer benefit, Red. Nay mine. Now that ye’ve been broken in, I’ll show ye just how rough this wolf likes it.”

Her smile was shy, but gleamed brightly, until she glanced over his shoulder.

“Ewan,” she whimpered.

There was no pleasure in the sound of his name, but fear, bright and instant. Violet scooted off him, rearranged her panties and looking around. “Where’s my jeans?”

Ewan frowned, still in a lust soaked stupor when he turned around, only to stare into the smiling face of a brightly clothed Kermani. They’d exited the tunnel and he’d been too caught up to notice.

“Good evening, my friends. And may I just say, a much different reception than last time, no?” Brown, almost black eyes glinted in the waning daylight.

Jerking to his feet, Ewan shoved Violet completely behind him, shielding her body from the Easterner’s view.

“What the bloody hell, are ye doin’ here?” he barked, lungs vibrating with the deep animal growl of his wolf.

Kermani’s walk was slow, deliberate and measured; his checkered colored pants distracting. “I truly hate to do this, as I consider The Shunned a true ally, but…”

Ewan’s heart thundered as he scanned the horizon. There were no whipping seas, no violent gray skies, but there was a spiraling black gothic tower set against the backdrop of a twisted, skeletal forest. Malvena’s keep.

“Ye sold us out,” Ewan accused, his skin tingling with the rush of his wolf’s hatred. “How did ye find us?”

“Oh.” Kermani laughed, large golden hoop in his ear swished with his movements. “It’s quite clever actually. The dream stone you used when you left my home, Malvena put a tracker on it. We very nearly had you in the Hatter’s woods. But the bastard found you first.” He rolled his fingers along his jaw. “Hid you well, but we knew you’d have to travel this road again.”

Ewan’s skin felt too tight, too hot. Fur rippled beneath his flesh, desperate to rip through, become the beast so he could tear Kermani limb from limb. But Red wasn’t moving, barely breathing. He thought maybe she was in shock, and he didn’t want to terrify her further.

“Then she heard a ghostly echo of Misty Isles.” Kermani shrugged his shoulders, bunching his turquoise colored shirt. “It was a simple matter of rerouting. You were too busy rutting to notice.”

His smile was lecherous, not at all open and pleasant as he’d been the last time. Fury was a hot consuming thing that threatened Ewan’s sanity, his reason. He held on to the image of a quaking Violet as his tether, praying it might ground him, help him hang onto the last shreds of humanity.

But the shred was barely a sliver. His jaw felt thick, stretched, aching with the need to become. His throat burned with the pent up rumble.