“Good,” he practically purred against her ear. And then in a wicked tone, he rumbled, “Now it’s my turn.”
Ecstasy and anticipation swirled inside of her as the jingle of his belt sounded. Yes, yes, to this, she wanted him so badly. With his boot, he kicked her ankles wider, gripped her hip with one hand and shoved the skirts of her dress up her back with the other, and then he pushed the tip of his cock into her by an inch. Big. Nox was just as big as she imagined, but he’d prepared her and she was ready. The next time he slid into her halfway, stretching her, and pulled out slowly as her orgasm pulsed on. The third time? He slammed into her so deep she gasped at the shock of it. Perfect, perfect, this was so perfect. It’s like they were made to fit.
Nox bucked into her faster and faster, and when he clamped his teeth on her neck and cupped her sex, her climax began to build again. Again? What was this man doing to her body? She’d barely finished the first one and now with every hard thrust, she was getting closer to the edge of release again. So big, and she was so tight. So good. God, so good. “Harder,” she begged as he bit down.
He was so powerful behind her, his abs flexing against her back with every stroke. And right as his snarl turned feral, he grabbed one breast and pulled her against her as he slammed into her deep. His dick throbbed inside of her, and now she was gone too, matching his release. She cried out. And then there were teeth on her skin. Teeth and what should’ve been awful pain at her neck, but all she could focus on was the pleasure he was giving her. His shaft pulsed on with each stroke until warmth trickled down her legs. But warmth was trickling down her neck too, and for a moment she was confused with the strange sensations overtaking her body. Consuming pleasure and a dull ache and warmth rained down her skin. She smelled blood. The scent of iron tainted the air. He’d bitten her. Hard. Hard enough to make her bleed. But why?
Nox slowed his thrusting, smoothed it out until both of their releases were done and they were twitching with sensitivity.
“You aren’t healing,” Nox rasped out.
“Foxes don’t heal as fast as other shifters,” she whispered, too intimidated to turn around and face him.
He gripped her shoulders and spun her slowly, then pinned her against the wall. He cupped her neck on both sides and searched her face with those feral silver eyes of his, his blond brows drawn down in confusion. “I would say I’m sorry for what I did, but I’m not. I’m not sorry for anything.”
“What do you mean? What did you do?” she asked, flinching at a strange pain in her chest.
“I…” His eyes narrowed and his frown deepened. “You know.”
“Nooo,” she drew out, unease constricting her chest. “What are you talking about? Why did you bite me? Is it some kind of instinct with your bear? Is that something you need to do during sex?”
“Not anymore,” he rushed out. “I should go.” He knelt and smoothed out her dress until the skirt hung perfectly again. And never once did he look up and meet her eyes.
“Nox?”
“I need to leave, and everything will be okay. It’ll be okay, Nevada. I pinky promise.” He hooked a pinky around hers and shook it hard once, then did an about face and strode from the room without looking back. He adjusted his pants as he went.
“You’re really leaving?” She followed him out to the living room. He was walking fast, and she had to jog to keep up. “I-I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”
“Don’t.” Nox yanked open the front door to her apartment. “You’re a goddess and I don’t deserve you and now I’ve ruined you, just like I said I would. Never let monsters into your house, Nevada. First rule of survival.”
Nox climbed in his truck, and the engine roared to life. His high beams lit up the parking lot, and then he was burning rubber to get out of there. Away from her.
She pressed her hand to the aching bite on her neck and shook her head in utter bafflement. She’d been mistaken. His feelings for her hadn’t grown and he wasn’t dependable. He was still a leaver and runner.
And now she was without a prospect, soon to be shunned from the den, would be marked and forced out of this territory, and she would probably bear the scar of a bite from a man she’d risked too much for, too soon.
He’d said “first rule of survival,” as if he knew what it was like for her, or for her people. The first rule of survival was invisibility for fox shifters.
And what had she done?
She’d let Nox see her—really see her—instead of listening to her instincts to hide.
And now she would bear the scar of that bad decision for the rest of her life.
Chapter Nine
Now that he knew what to look for, this place was crawling with shifters. Apparently dens of foxes were huge. Paranoid little non-apex predator shifters knew their place on the food chain and banded together in big numbers in case anyone tried to make waves with them.
His phone rang again for the third time in a row, and Nox glared at the caller ID. Fuckface BlueBalls Dragon. With a growl, he scanned the grocery store parking lot for Nevada’s car and parked his truck to wait, just in case she decided on a late-night shopping spree again tonight. It wasn’t safe for her until those two creeper tourists moved on through. He’d been watching them, aka stalking them, to see if they needed to be a little deader than he’d left them when they’d messed with Nevada a few days ago. They were apparently here for some big golf tournament at the Foxburg Golf Course, and until it was over and they were far away from here, Nox was going to troll the local grocery store in case his mate needed back up.
Mother fucker! Stop calling her that!
Nox slammed his hand on the steering wheel, pissed at himself. Not because he’d bitten her. Fuck guilt. But because it was torture trying to stay away from her. Two days since he’d left her house with that question on her lips. Did I do something wrong?
She was perfect. Classy, beautiful, funny, and easy-going except when she was around people, but he didn’t care about that. He didn’t like being around people either. She was the type of girl a guy like him dreamed about. That real love, mate-for-life kind of encounter that made him draw up and question everything. His destiny was to be alone, right? He’d been born with too much of Clinton Fuller in him, and he was meant to wander the earth alone, fighting dominants to stay steady, bounty hunting because it was solo work, and wrinkling up year after year until he turned to dust deep in Damon’s Mountains. No legacy, no family, no mate, just getting through each day wondering why the fuck he couldn’t just be normal like everyone else.
His phone rang again. Stupid Damon.
Irritated, Nox answered, “I don’t have any new information for you.”
“Where are you?”
“On the road.”
“Have you any new leads on Vyr?”
Damon was testing, but Nox knew better than to lie to an ancient. Damon Daye had hundreds of years of lie detection experience.