by Eve Langlais
Now a tawny hunk, his golden mane spread over the pillow.
She tugged a golden lock, and despite his eyes being shut, faking sleep, he growled, low and sexy. The kind of growl that vibrated a girl’s parts.
Naughty kitty. She patted him on the cheek. “Be a good boy and maybe we can get around to taking off those restraints.
“Grawr.” He made another noise, meant to be animal like, yet it lacked the true guttural timber of the wild.
“Are you really going to play games with me, kitty?” She vaulted onto the bed and sat on him, legs splayed, her core pressed right on his groin—where an erection said hello.
Probably making Daddy gnash his teeth if he watched, but it served its purpose as it got Marcus’s attention.
“Get off.”
“Are you offering or asking?” she sassed, leaning forward so that her hair fell in a curtain and framed them.
“Go away.”
“Can’t do that, kitty. I told you, you’re my assignment. Getting paid a pretty penny, too. You’re awfully important to some people.”
“Using me,” he sneered.
“Which is the way of the world. I mean look at how you’re using me.” Everyone had a tendency of using her. Mother as a pawn in the divorce. Adrian and her dad as a test subject. Now Marcus, as his reason for sanity.
He blinked. The man had incredibly thick lashes but only seen up close because of the blond.
“Oh, come on. Don’t play innocent now. I’ve seen how you pretend to be some animal when I’m not around. Growling and snarling. And then, when I appear, magically coherent.”
“Not you,” he said, turning his head to the side.
But he couldn’t escape her. She still pinned him and lowered her face close enough to almost brush his skin.
“If it’s not me, then why is it all the sensors go haywire when I walk in the room? Your heart rate goes up. Your temperature spikes, and this”—she ground her hips against his groin, the erection clear—“is not something in your pocket.”
“You mean nothing to me.” The words spoken hotly and yet she smiled at the obvious lie in them.
“You should learn to lie better, kitty.”
“Not a lie. I hate you. I’d kill you if given a chance.”
“Then why haven’t you?” She was close enough he could head butt, even tear at her with his teeth. Instead, his reply emerged as a soft purr and that erection didn’t suddenly disappear.
“I might be a monster, but I don’t intentionally kill.”
Funny, because she had the opposite mentality.
I am a monster who likes to kill. What she didn’t like was rejection.
“If you could have one thing right now, what would it be? Pizza? Beer? Sex?” She ground her hips.
“Peace.”
“And what would give you peace?” she asked. “Don’t tell me going back to the way things were before. I read your file. You were a dweeb.”
“That’s an asshole thing to say.”
She laughed. “But true. Barely above minimum wage job, hardly any friends, you spent most of your time online.”
“Because it was fun. I enjoyed it.”
“But what about human interaction? A relationship? Can’t snuggle a game controller.”
“You saw what I looked like. Not too many women interested in a short geek. And I was fine with that.”
“Liar,” she breathed hotly against him. “I think you lived that way because it was safe. You could hide and avoid the cruel world who saw you only for the shell housing your mind. But you’re not that person anymore, kitty.”
“You’re right. I’m not. I’m not me. Or free. Or anything now.”
“Which is the wrong attitude to take. You’ve been given a second chance. An opportunity to be someone new. To experience real life.”
“Not interested.”
“Are you sure about that?” She ground one last time against him.
“Leave me alone,” snarled with frustration.
Kitty seemed to think he could lie and pretend. Daddy thought he could tell her what to do.
They’d learn.
Chapter Twelve
“Later, kitty,” she breathed on him, the words hot with promise, the heat of her igniting his skin. Enflaming his cock. He sucked in a breath as she ground herself against his groin.
And then nothing…she left.
Left him aching.
Awake.
Frustrated.
“Argggggh!” The roar emerged as a meld of emotions. The beast couldn’t handle it. The man didn’t understand either.
He shook in his manacles. Screamed at the ceiling. Wrung himself right out fighting against his prison and fate and the world.
It lasted hours. Hours where he roared at the nurses. Snapped at the guards. Made himself a virtual nuisance until suddenly he ran out of energy. He calmed enough to fall into a restless sleep, interrupted by the opening of his door.
Husky laughter softly rumbled from out of sight. The timbre of it immediately woke his dick.
Jayda had returned, and Marcus tensed. He watched for movement, not wanting her to catch him unaware. The lights in the room had dimmed, meaning it was night. Shadows hugged the corners and edges.
Listening hard, he caught the scuff of feet, another soft chuckle followed by the murmur of a man. “Are you sure we should be in here?”
What. The. Fuck. Jayda came here with another man!
He seethed. He just didn’t understand why. As if he cared Jayda chose to be with a guy. He was pissed they’d disturbed his sleep.
Yup. That was why he simmered.
“He’s probably passed out. And if he isn’t, let him listen. I’m sure he’d enjoy the entertainment,” Jayda sassed, and in that moment, he knew she did on purpose.
It didn’t help the rising rage.
“Why not go back to your room instead?” the dead man suggested.
Yeah, he sounded pretty hale and hearty now. But Marcus didn’t see that lasting once he got out of these restraints.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid,” Jayda teased.
Be afraid, be very afraid. Marcus seethed, feeling the monster inside rising, and not tempted in the least to stop it.
“What about the cameras?” asked the hesitant fellow.
Just another reason to hate the fucker. He was a whiny little shit. She was practically handing herself to him on a silver fucking platter and the asshole was worried about getting caught.
“I put the electronic eyes for this level on a loop, so no one would see. Jesus, Wade, are you coming, or am I going to play with myself?” Said with a naughty lilt, promising delights…
…to another man.
Fabric tightened around his biceps, pulled at his thighs as his anger swelled. A few seams loosened across the breadth of his shoulders. The bands around his frame dug into his flesh.
“I’ll follow you anywhere, baby.”
“Don’t call me, baby.” Softly muttered, and yet he heard it as Jayda strode into view keeping her gaze ahead, not once looking at Marcus. He, on the other hand, drank her in.
She looked especially delicious tonight, the blue jeans molding her lower body as if painted on. Her tank top just as snug. Her breasts high, her waist indented. She sported pink gloss on her lips.
She also wore a hand on her waist.
A guy’s hand.
Touching her.
Marcus hissed, and all the hair on his body—an impressive amount—stood at attention.
Something began to creak, which caused Wade—the soon-to-be dead man—to look his way.
“Shit. He’s awake.”
Jayda cupped Wade’s cheek and turned his face before he could see Marcus smile in welcome.
“Ignore him. He’s just a big ol’ pussy.” Insulting Marcus and yet she still wouldn’t look at him. Rather, she dragged the guard a little closer. Hopped her ass onto a counter and then planted Wade’s hands on her hips so that he could snuggle in
between her thighs. Fully clothed and yet the sexual suggestion was plain.
It made Marcus seethe that they would so openly tryst in front of him. He made a noise that kept the guy from leaning in for a kiss.
Wade shot Marcus a glance over his shoulder. “He’s a big fucker.”
“I wouldn’t know. Never got to see his junk since he turned me down,” Jayda remarked, her gaze finally meeting Marcus’s, daring him, her lips upturned in challenge.
“Hold on.” The guard turned back. “You telling me you would have banged one of the monsters?”
“You think he’s a monster?” Jayda asked, hopping off the counter and moving to stand in front of Marcus. “That would imply he’s fearsome. But look at him.” She leaned close and activated the bed, tilting him. “Nothing but a man juiced on animal steroids. Barely coherent.”
As if to add credence to her words, a rumbling sound emerged from Marcus.
“He’s a beast, ain’t he.” The guard moved to stand in front of him. Obviously one of the newer fellows. Lanky. Handsome. Small compared to him. A crunchy meat sack.
Marcus bared his teeth, knowing the incisors were more pronounced. He had felt them biting the inside of his mouth.
“A lonely beast who hasn’t been laid in forever.” Jayda held Marcus’s stare, her eyes a swirling pit of green and brown. Flat and emotionless. Waiting for him to react.
Everything got a little tighter: clothes, metal bands holding him. Something pinged. The guard missed seeing the wiggle as the band around Marcus’s chest pulled loose.
“Let’s give him something to watch,” Wade remarked, reaching for Jayda.
She spun away and laughed. “How about first a show for both of you?” She shoved the guard so that he leaned against the counter. Jayda put her hands on the hem of her shirt.
What is she doing? Marcus could only stare, riveted, as she peeled fabric off, revealing breasts cupped high in a crimson bra. Her body lean and athletic. The muscles defined and smooth. Lickably smooth.
She tossed the shirt to the side and put her hands on her hips, showcasing her hourglass shape. The high round ass. “You think he likes what he sees?” The query asked of the guard, and yet she tossed Marcus a look over her bared shoulder, a challenge in her gaze.
“I know I’m liking.” The guard began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a toned body but no bulk.
The bands dug into Marcus’s skin a little deeper, and the manacle on his left wrist got super tight then popped.
Jayda didn’t look at Marcus when she asked Wade, “Does it make you hot to see me playing with him?”
Yes. Yes, it does. Marcus ached. Wanted to sink into her from behind, holding on to her hair and driving her hard until she arched and screamed.
“I’d be hotter if you touched me.” Wade tossed his shirt to the floor.
A low sound rumbled out of him, and Jayda whirled. “Hear that? The lion is awake. And hungry.” Hips swaying, Jayda drew close to Marcus, close enough to tease a nail down a section of his chest, scraping over taut fabric that parted as if sliced away by her touch.
The pad of her finger then dragged backwards over his exposed flesh, drawing a shiver that made the whole bed tremble.
“Are you sure you should be touching him?” Hesitant Wade returned.
But Jayda wasn’t a coward like Wade. She still touched. And she stared.
They both did, an intense gaze that locked them together.
“Can you imagine what it’s like only being able to watch?” she mused aloud. “For him to see a woman touching and being touched. To know he’ll never ever get to feel that pleasure.”
“Fucking torture,” Wade agreed.
“Actually, that’s teasing. This would be torture.” She whirled to face Wade once more, putting her back to Marcus.
But she didn’t walk away. Rather she bent down, one hand touching the floor, the perfection of her rounded butt in the air. Jayda had no intention of stopping there.
That ass, perched perfectly atop her long legs, made longer in the heeled boots she wore, was just the right height.
It cupped into his groin perfectly. Ground into him, forcing Marcus to draw in a sharp breath. Then no breath at all as she wiggled and waggled.
“That’s it, baby,” Wade crowed. “Twerk him. Fuck, that’s cruel.”
It was cruel. Not only could Marcus not sink into that evident invitation but he couldn’t kill Wade yet.
He couldn’t do a damned thing, not while she still gyrated against him. She glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye, winking, grinding.
Teasing.
The pre-orgasm shudder shook the bed again.
Imagine how it would be if he actually got to touch her.
“You are so fucking hot.” Wade, the cock blocker, shoved off the counter toward Jayda, his expression smoldering with desire.
The fucker is starting to piss me off. What Marcus was thinking, yet what emerged from his mouth was, “Grawr.”
Standing, Jayda let Wade get close enough to put his hands on her bare skin.
My skin.
The cracking and popping of the rest of his restraints wasn’t as loud as the thud of his feet when he hit the ground.
The peek Jayda gave over her shoulder didn’t look surprised at all, but the meat sack? His mouth dropped, and he made some kind of startled noise. “Shit—”
That was more than enough. Marcus shot out a hand and grabbed the male who sniffed around his female. Dangled him off the floor by the throat. The squeezing stopped the sounds coming from it. The fingers clawing at him didn’t disturb in the least.
“Kitty.” A word with stern overtones. “Be good.” The female of the delicious scent made noises that he understood and ignored.
The meat sack in his fist kicked. So it got shaken into compliance.
The female placed a hand on his arm, the smooth touch drawing his attention. He looked down at her.
“That’s a good, kitty. Look at Jayda,” she crooned. “Let the man go.”
His brow furrowed, and he shot a glance at the meat sack whose eyes bulged.
“Let him go, Marcus.” The firm tone brought a low growl.
But it was the tweak of a nipple—that didn’t stop but kept on being twisted—that brought a yelp.
He glanced down to see she held him firmly. He could yank free easily enough. After all, he was the bigger, stronger of them.
But that might injure the female.
“I said let go!” The twisting got more intense.
With a rumbling mini roar, he dropped the meat sack, who heaved on the floor, sucking in ragged breaths.
“Good boy.” The pain in his nipple didn’t disappear when she let go. The throb had him glaring at the female.
“Grawr.”
“Don’t be a pussy.”
The female mocked his pain. He reached for her breast, only to have his hand slapped away.
“Doesn’t work two ways, big guy. Now, can you talk?”
He pressed his lips tight.
“But you understand me?”
Did he?
“Don’t pretend now. I’ll bet if I said you could grab a boob you’d understand pretty fucking quick.”
His gaze dropped to her chest.
Her soft chuckle meant she saw. “Still a man, I see. And just so we’re clear, that wasn’t permission.”
He glanced at Wade scrambling across the floor. About time he left.
Her hand cupped Marcus’s cheek, drawing his attention. “How much of you is in there right now?” she mused aloud.
Enough to know this woman had something special about her. He raised a hand to brush knuckles down her loose hair. The texture of it pleased. He curled a chunk of it around his finger, winding tighter and tighter.
Her turn to draw in a sharp note of pain as he reeled her close.
But she didn’t protest. She stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted.
“How much of this will you remember?” She ran her
hand over his cheek. “Amazing. I’ve never seen someone take on so many characteristics before. Even more lion now than in the cave.”
She kept talking. Her lips moving, and all he wanted to do was capture those words.
He dipped his head, got close to her mouth, his gaze locked with hers.
Before he could press his lips to hers, an alarm sounded. Whoop. Whoop. His chin angled sharply as he tested the air.
Jayda cursed and pulled free from him. “Motherhumping little whore. Fucking Wade pulled an alarm.”
“Should kill.” The words guttural. The meaning clear.
She cast him a smirk. “Apparently. Next time I’ll listen to you, but this time, you need to get behind me.”
“Behind?” One incredulous word, given he loomed much larger than her. His earlier rage had triggered the shift that changed his body. Meaning he’d gained a few inches all over.
“I know I’m not the ideal-sized shield, kitty, but they probably won’t shoot you if I’m in the way. At least they better not.”
Shoot?
The very suggestion someone would aim a weapon at Jayda bristled inside Marcus, drew the monster back to a pulsing head. Which was why, when the guards appeared with their guns drawn, yelling, “Don’t move,” he tossed her behind him and then jumped toward them with a roar.
Chapter Thirteen
Jayda should have known Marcus would try and be a hero.
Monster my ass, she thought as he strove to stand between her and the tranquilizers being shot by the guards.
And look at that, someone brought a Taser to the fight, too.
It wasn’t helping. Marcus had enough adrenaline to handle the sleeping darts and the voltage.
Someone was going to get hurt.
Jayda strode toward the melee and punched the guy with the Taser first. His high-pitched cry drew attention, as did the blood spurting from his nose. Wade appeared behind the kneeling pussy and exclaimed, “I got help.”
“You fucking moron,” she seethed. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I saved you,” Wade said.
Wrong answer. “I can save myself,” Jayda hissed. She hauled back an arm to punch him, only to curse as Marcus flung himself at Wade.