by Bella Jacobs
But the fact remains that if I have to lose my virginity in an “only available human” type of situation, I could certainly do worse as far as humans are concerned.
At least in the looks department, Cranky is, objectively, hot as hell.
I circle around his wood pile, my hands propped on my hips through the hideous linen dress I was given at the camp, wishing I had my tracksuit. I feel so much more powerful in pants. And a sports bra.
Though my lack of undergarments might serve me well if I’m forced to seduce Cranky. I left my cardigan at the end of the bed inside, and I can have this dress up and over my head in two seconds’ flat.
The thought sends an unexpected—and shocking—ticklish feeling fuzzing between my hips.
A part of me is horrified that I’m getting a little turned on by this miserable situation. The other part of me, the ruthlessly determined part, says this is good news.
Cranky doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would have sex with a woman who wasn’t genuinely into it. My only chance of getting him on board with my plan is to make it clear I won’t consider getting naked with him a hardship.
“Can we start over?” I ask in the silence between axe falls.
“You can do whatever you like,” he says, his attention fixed on positioning his next log. “I wash my hands of you. Do whatever you want.”
I huff. “Well, that’s certainly a serious change of heart. I thought you wanted to keep me safe. For Jacob. And to keep me from messing up your plans.”
“In a perfect world, sure,” he says, cracking the log in two with one graceful swing of his tool. “But we don’t live in a perfect world.” He tosses the two pieces of split wood onto a growing pile nearby. “And you can’t reason with crazy people. I learned that the hard way.”
I fight the urge to tell him to go fuck himself and that he’s clearly crazier than I could ever be. Instead, I clench my jaw and remind myself that I need in on this man’s plan—I know I’ll be more effective working with a team than charging back into camp alone, a fact that proves I’m not crazy.
“We’ll be stronger together,” I say calmly. “I realize that, and after some thought I’ve also realized you must have a phone somewhere on this property. Or some way to communicate with the outside world, one I would really love to make use of, pretty please. After all, you wouldn’t be out here all alone without a way to call for help if you need it.”
He looks up from the piece of wood he’s positioned, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t even know my name, but you assume you know what I would or wouldn’t do?”
I force a tight smile. “I just meant that you seem like a smart, careful person. And it’s hardly my fault I don’t know your name. You didn’t offer it and we kind of had more important things to talk about, don’t you think?”
He props the business end of his axe on the thick wood-splitting stump and rests his hand atop the handle. “Axe.”
I nod slowly, not sure how to respond to that. “Yes, that’s a very nice axe. You’re good with it. Though if I were you, I’d probably be saving my energy for tonight instead of giving it all to the firewood.”
He grunts. “No, my name is Axe. And I don’t need to conserve energy. I’m not a half-starved little girl who’s been lost in the woods.”
“I just ate half your almond butter and bread, buddy,” I say, continuing to smile, refusing to let him get a rise out of me that easily. “I’m not starving anymore, and I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”
He arches a brow. “Oh yeah? Enlighten me, princess.”
I ignore the flash of pain the words send stabbing through my chest—Jacob calls me princess, too, but never in a mean way. On his lips, the word is sweet, loving.
I just hope he’ll still love me when he realizes how far I had to go to ensure I wasn’t left out of the mission to save his life.
“You’re being hard and dismissive to push me away,” I say, moving closer, holding his gaze as I come to stand on the other side of the stump. “You figure if you’re mean enough, you won’t have to deal with what I put on the table in there. But I’m not that easily deterred, not when there’s no good reason for you to turn me down without even discussing things. And not when the life of the person I love is on the line.”
His jaw works back and forth for a beat before he adds in a softer voice. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m not that kind of man.”
“What kind of man?” I challenge, pushing on before he can answer. “As far as I can see, you aren’t a man at all. You’re a shifter. And most shifters I know don’t take sex so seriously. We’re not human, after all. We know that sex doesn’t always have to be serious and is never wrong or dirty, as long as both people are into it.”
“But you take it seriously,” he challenges. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t still be a virgin. And that matters to me. I’m the kind of man who respects those boundaries.” His disinterested gaze flicks down my body and back up again, before he adds in a cool voice, “And I’m into fully-grown women, not children.”
I smile, a real smile this time because as hard as he’s trying to prove he finds me repulsive, his biology is betraying him. I can smell the salty sweet scent rising from his skin and I haven’t dated a cat shifter for as long as I have without knowing what that means.
“Good try,” I say in a husky voice, holding his gaze as I bunch the bottom of my dress in my hands, drawing it slowly up my legs. “But we both know I’m eighteen and nowhere near a child. And we both know you like what you see. How about I let you see a little more and see what you think then?”
“Don’t,” he warns softly, but he doesn’t reach out to stop me as I draw the dress up and over my head.
He doesn’t move at all, in fact.
Doesn’t breathe.
He stands there as my dress floats to the ground, frozen like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz after he was caught out in the rain. Complete with axe.
But I can feel the storm rising inside him, churning and building, like clouds about to burst and pelt the earth with rain. And I want that, I realize. I want him to lose control. I want him to touch me, take me. I want to give in to the simple, carnal hunger I feel right now, so much less complicated than what I feel when I’m with Jacob.
With Jacob, I’ve always known that sex wouldn’t just be sex. It would be so much more, demand so much more. Being with him would be the first step on a road that would tear my family apart. Being with him would set me up for a big, ugly fight with my family and my pack and most likely lead to me being alienated from everything I’ve ever loved. Maybe forever.
But with Axe…
“It’s just sex,” I say, meaning it as I step closer, my nipples tightening, tingling as his eyes drop to my chest before returning to my face.
It’s just a split second, but I feel the gaze like a caress, and I can tell I’m not the only one. The sexy scent of turned-on cat is so strong I’m already wet—something I’m sure he can smell, too.
“And I want it,” I add in a whisper, so close to him now that I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. “I want your hands on me.”
“It’s going to be more than my hands, princess,” he grits out through a clenched jaw. “It’s been so damned long. If I touch you… If you don’t put your clothes on right now and walk away…”
“What?” I ask in a breathy voice. “You’ll do exactly what I’m asking you to do?” My lips push into a faux pout. “Oh no. That would be terrible, just…terrible.”
Sweat droplets slide from his temple down the side of his face and I swear I can feel the tension vibrating in his bones. I step around the stump between us and close my fingers around the axe handle below his. “But why don’t we put this down, first? The only thing I want splitting me in half is your—”
My words end in a rush of breath as Axe turns to me, snatching me up in his arms and claiming my mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.
No, not just hungry. Starving…<
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He’s starved for me, for touch, for release, and he’s right—there’s no turning back now.
The storm has broken, and we have no choice but to let it rage.
Chapter Fourteen
Axe
This is so wrong, so fucking wrong.
I don’t want to do this to my brother—or Diana or myself—but I can’t stop now. She tastes too damned sweet, feels too fucking good with her legs wrapped around my waist as I carry her into the shade beside the wood pile.
I fall to the grass with her still tangled all around me, groaning as the smell of her wet pussy fills my head. I reach between us, a pained, hungry sound wrenching from my throat as I feel how slick she is.
I curse against her lips as I slide a finger inside her. She’s so wet, so hot, but tight, too. I’m going to hurt her if I rush, but I can’t seem to slow down, not when she’s wiggling beneath my hand and her tongue is meeting mine stroke for stroke.
“Your body feels so good on top of me,” she says, raking her nails down my back.
I cling to the words.
My body.
Just my body, not me.
She seems to be doing a decent job of keeping this in perspective—this is just sex, just bodies, nothing more. But she has no clue about the shit that’s swirling around in my head or how long it’s been since I’ve even kissed a woman, let alone anything more.
Two years ago, the leader of my coven put a binding spell on my cock. Eloise had been trying to get me into her bed for what seemed like forever—since I was barely fifteen—but I preferred her younger sister.
And Eryn preferred me.
It was just a friends-with-benefits situation, nothing more, but I should have known better than to think that would matter to my coven leader.
When Eloise found out Eryn and I were sleeping together, she banished her sister to a much-less-desirable coven on the West Coast and bound me with a sex spell.
From that moment on, I would only be able to fuck two kinds of people—
One: Someone I loved—deeply. None of that casual affection shit for me anymore. It was true love, or my cock would remain limp and useless between my legs.
Two: My fated mate, should I manage to cross paths with her while sequestered away from the shifter world, working as a familiar.
Needless to say, I haven’t come across either of those options. Eloise has kept me so busy I rarely have time to leave coven lands, and I’ve known every witch there since I was a child. Eryn was the only one who held any sexual interest for me and even that wasn’t love, just a friendship that gradually become something more for two lonely people without many other options.
As I bring Diana over with my fingers, it’s the first time I’ve heard a woman come or been this close to bare, feminine skin in two torturous years. My head is spinning with it, but I know, somewhere in the depths of my lust-addled mind that the fact that I’m hard means something.
Something big.
I don’t love this girl—I’m not sure I even like her—which leaves only one possibility as to why having sex with her is even possible. And it’s something that could change both of our lives. Forever.
Most likely not for the better.
“We should stop,” I murmur against her lips, even as my hands find their way to her breasts and her tight pink nipples. “We should talk. We should—”
“Don’t want to talk,” she says, squeezing my ass. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you so deep in me, Axe. I need it. I’ve never felt this empty.” She moans as I tweak her nipple and squirms beneath me. “I want you. So bad. Like, a crazy fucking amount.”
I know the feeling.
Crazy. That’s what I feel as her smell, her taste, and the heat of her pussy rocking against my erection gets to be too damned much.
I lose control and the next thing I know I’m fitting the head of my throbbing cock to her slick, swollen flesh and sinking into the best place I’ve ever known.
The very fucking best.
God, I thought I knew what amazing sex felt like, but this? She’s so hot and tight, a paradise I never want to find my way out of.
“Fuck, Diana, so good,” I cry out as I seat myself in her, the feel of her virgin barrier giving way as I thrust deep so subtle, I would have missed it if I didn’t know it was there.
And she certainly isn’t acting like she’s in any pain.
Her lips are parted, her eyes glazed, and sexy, turned-on sounds escape the back of her throat as I begin to ride her.
She bucks into me, giving as good as she gets. “Oh my God,” she says, clinging to me as I roll my hips at the end of each thrust, grinding against her clit. “God, Axe. God, you’re the best thing I’ve ever felt. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
I groan and grunt my agreement, past words now as my orgasm gathers at the base of my spine and my balls drag heavy between my legs. I’m going to come so fast it’s goddamned embarrassing. But thank the stars she seems close, too.
If I can just hold on for a few more seconds, just a few more…
I fuck her harder, deeper, a growl building in my chest as she digs her nails into my biceps and arches her spine.
And then she cries out and her pussy locks down around my cock so hard I see stars as I come.
Fuck, do I come.
I shoot my seed inside her so fiercely it’s almost painful. Things low in my body that have forgotten what pleasure feels like jerk and twitch and my arms are shaking.
There’s no doubt I would have collapsed on top of her, but at that very second—just as I’m coming down enough to realize I should have pulled out—Diana vanishes.
She just…disappears.
Or so I think at first. A beat later, a furious ball of feathers and claws explodes near my bare thigh. I roll over to see a snowy white owl on the grass where Diana was a moment before.
“Shit,” I mutter, sensing foul play even before Diana turns her now golden gaze to mine and lets out a startled squaw.
A beat later I hear her panicked voice in my head, What the fuck, Axe? What the unholy fuck? Why do I have wings right now?
I drag a hand through my sweat damp hair. “I’m guessing my coven leader has something to do with it. She’s a jealous witch with a sick sense of humor.”
Diana totters onto her new feet, blinking her big eyes in a way that would be kind of funny if I had any idea how long this curse was going to last.
Or how to change her back.
Shit, Axe, what am I going to do now? she asks, sounding so young and scared I immediately feel even worse about what we’ve done.
What I’ve done.
She’s just an eighteen-year-old girl. At twenty-seven, I should have known better.
“We’re going to fix this,” I promise, silently hoping it’s a fixable curse and not something Eloise engineered to make sure my fated mate and I never live happily ever after.
My fated mate…
As rare as it is for a cat shifter and a wolf to be that to each other, it has happened before. Rarely.
And it almost always ends badly for one or both of the parties involved.
Knowing that makes it relatively easy to keep that part to myself as I tell Diana, “But on the bright side, now no one at the camp will suspect you.” Shifters only take mammal forms, and most of our kind tend to ignore our feathered friends. It’s one of the reasons I use them as my spies.
“And you can do things my birds can’t,” I continue, hope easing the tightness in my chest. “This could be an amazing opportunity if we take this curse and make the most of it.”
Diana cocks her head menacingly to one side, as if considering whether or not to rip my throat out with her new beak, but finally she says, Fine. We’ll make the best of it. For Jacob. But as soon as he’s safe and this is all behind us, getting me back to normal is our first priority. And we never tell Jacob we did what we did. Agreed? It’s our secret. Forever.
I nod, even though I know the tru
th will come out sooner or later.
The truth always does. And when Diana learns she’s most likely my fated mate—not Jacob’s—she’s going to be pissed.
Or, worse, heartbroken, because I seriously doubt Eloise is going to make it easy for either of us to move on with our lives, even if Jacob can forgive and forget. That’s not the nature of my coven leader’s magic or her spiteful, clutching heart.
But I don’t tell Diana any of that right now.
Now, I tell her about my plan to bury the enemy forces alive by ambushing their ambush. She agrees it’s a solid strategic move—especially if she flies in the explosives—and we prepare to leave the cabin soon. The sun is still high in the sky, but I want to be close to the settlement well before dusk.
We don’t talk about what happened between us, not one word the entire afternoon, but occasionally I find my thoughts drifting, unbidden, to those unspeakably hot moments in the grass.
But only once or twice.
Any more dwelling on a woman who will never be mine would be masochistic. And despite what Eloise seems to think, I don’t enjoy pain—not even a little bit.
Chapter Fifteen
Kelley
I descend the stone stairs leading down into the tomb slowly, willing my racing heart to slow.
That’s what this room is now—a tomb. Not a torture chamber.
If I think of it as a tomb, I’ll be able to make it through what comes next.
If Bane were alive and capable of feeling pain—mental or physical—things might be different. I might actually be excited to face him one last time, to look him in his inhuman eyes and inform him that I’m the one responsible for the living hell his existence is about to become. To inform him that he isn’t nearly as clever or all-powerful as he thought and that underestimating me was his biggest, final mistake.
But as it is…
I almost feel sorry for him. He’s a monster, no doubt, but even monsters deserve the release of death.