by Kate Baxter
Before Sasha could act, the shifter was ripped away from her. Strong arms pulled him from her body and tossed him against the far wall like he was nothing more than a rag doll. Sasha turned toward her high-handed rescuer and her breath caught in her chest. Ewan was magnificent in his rage, eyes dark and inky black, muscles bulging, chest heaving, and his full lips pulled back in a menacing snarl.
“Touch her again and I’ll rip your arms from the sockets.”
His accent thickened with his anger and a thrill chased through Sasha’s bloodstream. Gods-damn it, why was he the only male on the face of the earth who could affect her in this way? It was completely unfair.
The shifter dragged in several ragged breaths. “Take your hands off me, you disgusting piece of shit. Do you think I’m scared of you? You’re the dregs at the bottom of the supernatural barrel.”
Sasha wanted to tell the male that it probably wasn’t a good idea to insult a berserker warlord, but it looked as though Ewan was about to get the point across on his own just fine. Sasha hung back, her shoulder blades still pressed against the wall, hands splayed beside her. Her heart beat a mad rhythm in her chest and her breath raced. Ewan excited her like no other male could.
Rather than give the shifter what he wanted, Ewan smiled at the insult. Somehow the expression was more frightening than an angry scowl. The calm before the storm. Black bled into his irises and the inky tendrils reached out into the whites. When possessed by rage, Ewan truly was a terrifying sight. The shifter’s scent changed, the first indication that his cocky show was nothing more than bravado.
Ewan wrapped his hand around the shifter’s throat. The act was done with such measured calm—almost lovingly—that it sent a chill over Sasha’s skin. His fist contracted and the shifter squirmed and clawed at Ewan’s hand as he tried to free himself from the unyielding iron grip. Sasha had seen Ewan kill. She’d bore witness to his cold, cruel determination. But in those cases, both participants had been willing parties, aware of the consequences. If Ewan killed the shifter, it would be cold-blooded murder.
“Don’t.” Sasha kept her tone calm and even. She pushed away from the wall and moved to stand behind Ewan. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and the muscles there flexed beneath her palm. The shifter was a son of a bitch, no doubt about that, but Sasha had been holding her own before Ewan intervened. He didn’t deserve to die.
The shifter’s face turned red as desperate gasps died in his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head as Ewan’s fist constricted tighter. Tighter … Sasha’s fingertips dug into his shoulder as the tension stretched out for another moment. Ewan released his hold and the shifter crumpled to the floor. He massaged his throat as he sucked in frantic gulps of air into his lungs. Gold sparked in his blue gaze that narrowed on Ewan and then Sasha. He didn’t say a word, though. Didn’t move. After a moment, his gaze dropped to the floor in a show of submission.
Sasha let out a slow, shuddering breath as the tension drained out of her body. Gods. That could have been a disaster.
Ewan turned and seized Sasha by the wrist. He looked from one open doorway to another and steered her in the direction of the first available room. She was getting pretty damned tired of high-handed males hauling her around without at least first asking how she felt about it. Sasha resisted his pull and he turned to bestow upon her a look that was part lust, part unchecked anger, and part stunned disbelief.
“We can do this in that room”—he jerked his chin toward the doorway—“or right here in the fucking hallway. Take your pick.”
Gods, what did he plan to do to her? A pleasant rush fanned outward from Sasha’s stomach through her limbs. He shouldn’t have excited her like he did. She should have been annoyed. Angry. Repulsed. Even a little fucking scared! But when it came to the rough and demanding berserker, Sasha found that she had no self-control. No pride. No fear. Not an ounce of damned sense. And it needed to stop.
“You insult me, turn me away, treat me like dirt on the bottom of your shoe, and you expect me to fall into line and obey your orders without question?” Sasha let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. “Sorry, but it’s not going to happen.”
Ewan’s gaze narrowed but it remained the beautiful tawny golden brown that she loved so much. His finger jutted out toward the doorway. “Get in that room, Sasha. Now.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “No.”
“All right.” He took a step toward her. “You asked for it.”
Well, shit. She had asked for it, hadn’t she?
CHAPTER
11
Ewan grabbed Sasha and threw her over his shoulder. If she was going to act like a stubborn child, he was going to treat her like one. She let out a squeal of enraged surprise followed by a forceful whoof of air. Ewan stepped to the left, into the nearest available room, and kicked the door closed behind him. This was where the shifter intended to take Sasha. And it was certainly equipped for all sorts of erotic play.
Anger rose fresh and hot in Ewan’s chest. She’d come here tonight looking for this. He stood, feet planted on the floor, and took in the sight of the room. A sex swing hung from one corner of the ceiling, one wall was adorned with bondage gear. The king-sized bed in the middle of the space was equipped with a sturdy headboard and footboard complete with leather cuffs, long scraps of silk, blindfolds, leather crops and others with feathered tips. It was a room designed for pleasure and the realization that Sasha had willingly sought this out made Ewan’s gut tangle into an unyielding knot. Not because she wanted a little wild and kinky sex, but because she’d wanted it with someone other than him.
“Put me down.”
Sasha pressed her palms against his ass and pushed herself upward. Ewan’s jaw squared and his jaw clenched so tight that he felt the enamel on his molars grind. He deposited her to her feet and she took a stumbling step back as she pushed against his chest. She bumped into the foot of the bed and reached out to steady herself on the footboard, rattling the leather cuffs secured there in the process. Ewan couldn’t help but picture her laid out on the coverlet, her ankles and wrists secured in place, helpless to do anything but lie there while he pleasured her. His cock stirred behind his fly and his gut clenched as a wave of white hot lust shot through him. He’d agreed to get close to Sasha to protect his other secrets from Gregor. He tried to convince himself that she had no effect on him. That she was nothing more than a curiosity he’d needed to work out of his system. Sasha wasn’t a curiosity. She was a fucking drug and Ewan was on the road to becoming an addict.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
Ewan was taken aback by Sasha’s indignant tone. His lust was quickly replaced again by anger. He turned and locked the door before coming back to face her. The last thing he needed was some randy asshole barging in to try and join in the fun. “What am I doing here? What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I don’t need your permission to go anywhere or do anything.” Sasha’s eyes flashed silver, an indication that her temper was about to crest.
“Oh really?” Ewan knew better than to take her on, but he couldn’t help himself. “Did you, or did you not, proclaim that I was your mate? Do you often make such claims before seeking out other males to fuck?”
Sasha’s eyes went wide. She gripped onto the footboard and leaned forward for emphasis. Ewan’s mouth went dry as he looked at her. Her expression, livid eyes bright with silver, face flushed, her breasts pressing against the tight tank top she wore and threatening to spill over the deep V of the neckline. “You sent me away!”
“You bit me!”
Sasha let out a bark of disbelieving laughter. “Vampire!” She jabbed a finger at her chest. “It’s sort of what we do.”
“What? Sink your fangs into your victim’s throats without asking permission?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed with hurt and Ewan felt a stab of momentary regret. She was right. What she’d done was simply what was in her nature to do. He couldn’t fault her for it
and yet, centuries of hate and conditioning had convinced him to do just that. Quiet settled between them, so thick and heavy that it nearly suffocated him. Ewan fought the urge to rub at his chest and instead crossed the space between them and put his mouth to hers.
Ewan had fucked Sasha, but he’d yet to kiss her. Her lips were as soft as he imagined, full and silky as she yielded to him. Ewan deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers, forcing her lips to part with his tongue. She kept her grip on the footboard, creating space between their bodies, and a growl built in Ewan’s chest. He didn’t want an inch of space between them. He wanted her hands on him. Any reservation on her part wasn’t acceptable.
As much as he hated to break their kiss, Ewan pulled away. Just enough to speak against her mouth. “Touch me.”
Sasha leaned back in a show of defiance. “No.”
Ewan’s frustration mounted. Passive aggression wouldn’t do anything to calm the temper that simmered just under the surface of his control. Before he’d insulted her that night in the stockroom, Sasha hadn’t been able to keep her hands off him. Now, as punishment, she withheld what he wanted. Ewan didn’t respond well to aggression of any kind. Nor punishment. Hell, he’d defied his own leader, the most feared warlord in supernatural history. He expected nothing less than total surrender from Sasha. There was a time and a place for playing games. Tonight, however, Ewan wasn’t in the mood.
That piece-of-shit shifter had taken Sasha’s hand and placed it on his cock. He’d pushed her when she didn’t want to be pushed. The bastard was lucky Sasha had stayed Ewan’s hand, otherwise that particular piece of him would have been the first to go. Maybe it wasn’t wise to make demands when she’d been faced with unwanted advances only moments before. Ewan wanted to be understanding and gentle and all of those things he expected more sensitive males were, but it simply wasn’t programed into his biology to be any of those things. He was burly, demanding, insensitive. Selfish, gruff, and rough around the edges. Hell, maybe he was every bit as bad as that piece-of-shit shifter. The only difference being that in the short span of two encounters, he already felt a possessive instinct when it came to the spirited vampire. He didn’t want another male’s hands, lips, or anything else on her. Didn’t want another male to so much as look at her with interest.
Ewan wanted Sasha for himself. And that all-consuming, insufferable want was sure to be his undoing.
He wouldn’t force her. Wouldn’t take her hands and put them where he wanted them like the shifter did. But neither would he plead for the favor. A warlord never bowed to anyone, not even a lover. If he truly was her mate, it was a fact Sasha would have to come to terms with.
He kissed her again. He wouldn’t force her, but he’d sure as hell do his best to persuade her to do what he wanted. Ewan had a tactical mind and he was more than prepared to win this battle of wills. She wanted him. The rich perfume of her arousal invaded his nostrils. She was simply too proud to admit it after being hurt.
Her grip on the footboard tightened as though she needed it to keep her from reaching out. She might not have wanted to touch him, but Ewan wasn’t about to impose those kinds of restrictions on himself. He closed the space between them until his body pressed against hers. Gripped the back of her neck with one hand and let the other slide around her back to cup her ass.
Ewan thrust his hips and Sasha allowed an indulgent moan. He abandoned her lips. Kissed the corner of her mouth, across her jawline, to the base of her ear. “Touch me,” he demanded once again.
Her response was nothing more than a murmur. “No.”
She punished him for rejecting her bite. If he didn’t want her fangs at his throat, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her touch.
“If you won’t touch me, then maybe I should tie you to this bed?” Ewan slid his hands down to circle her wrists. “Maybe it’ll satisfy that stubborn streak of yours.” He took her earlobe between his teeth and bit down gently. “Or maybe it’ll frustrate you to the point that you beg me to let you touch me.”
She let out a soft snort that didn’t carry half the confident weight he expected she wanted it to.
His grip tightened and she let out a slow breath as she melted against him. So she liked the prospect of being bound and at his mercy? It would certainly keep those wicked fangs of hers at a safe distance. Heat gathered in Ewan’s gut at the memory of that sharp sting followed by a rush of delicious heat. For something so reviled among their kind, the act certainly hadn’t been a hardship to suffer through. That didn’t mean Ewan was about to entertain disaster by letting it happen again.
He was more than willing to push his boundaries with Sasha. She was a female who knew her mind and what she wanted. If she didn’t like what he was about to do, he had no doubt she’d make it known.
He moved his hands from her wrists to her waist and tossed her over the footboard and onto the mattress. She let out a gasp of surprise but didn’t move a muscle as he rounded the bed to stand beside her. He braced his arms on the mattress and bent over her. “Touch me.” She knew what he wanted and he’d warned her of what the alternative would be.
Sasha bucked her chin in a defiant show. Gods, that stubborn streak of hers drove him wild. Her eyes met his and flashed with feral silver. “No.”
“All right. Have it your way.” Ewan reached over her and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings. “You asked for it.”
* * *
Gods, Ewan turned her on.
The last thing Sasha wanted to do was admit to him that she was more than prepared to beg for whatever the hell he wanted her to. She wanted to touch him so badly, her hands shook and her limbs quaked. When he’d threatened to tie her up, a thrill raced through her. So intense, she thought she might come from his words alone without him having to lay a single finger on her.
She’d showed up here tonight in search of excitement and found that nothing compared to the feelings Ewan evoked in her. But being here with him—in this place that overwhelmed her senses with sex and desire—was almost more than she could take.
Sasha let out a slow, shuddering breath as Ewan rounded the bed toward her. His hungry gaze devoured her as it raked from her feet, up the length of her body. As he braced his arms on the bed and leaned over her, Sasha’s heart raced. Her breath quickened and her senses became awash with his scent, his body, his sheer size as he leaned over her. “All right. Have it your way.” His fingertips slid against her skin as they dipped beneath her waistband of her leggings and Sasha’s stomach muscles twitched in response. “You asked for it.”
Her breath stalled in her chest as he pulled abruptly away. He reached for her feet and pulled off both of her ankle boots, tossing them to the floor along with her socks. Sparks of electricity ignited along her nerve endings as he once again went for her waistband and pulled her leggings and underwear down the length of her legs, stripping them off in one fluid motion. He grabbed her left foot and secured one leather restraint around her ankle. Sasha’s breath left her lungs in a rush. Wet warmth spread between her legs as anticipation sent chills over her bare thighs. He rounded the foot of the bed, seized her other foot, and secured it with the other restraint. She’d thought he was full of shit when he threatened to tie her to the bed, but she should have known a male like Ewan would never bluff.
“This is why you came here, isn’t it?” His gaze burned through her as he strode with slow, measured steps to the head of the bed. “To be restrained. To be pleasured. To be fucked.”
She’d come here to find a male who’d make her forget Ewan had ever existed. To banish the memory of him once and for all. Instead, Fate mocked her—as usual—by throwing them together once again.
He gripped the hem of her shirt and stripped the sheer, V-neck tank from her as well. He reached beneath her and a smirk tugged at his lips as her back arched to allow him access to her bra. The clasp came undone with a tick and he pulled that from her as well, discarding it somewhere beside him as he took her hand in his a
nd guided it above her head so he could fasten the leather restraint around her wrist.
She barely knew Ewan. He was a berserker. A sworn enemy. She couldn’t trust him and yet, she allowed him to tie her to the bed frame. Sasha wasn’t helpless. It’s not like a few leather straps could actually restrain her. But that was the point. All part of the game. She could break free at any time. It was a test of her control. Her submissiveness. Her resolve. Would she allow Ewan dominance? Or would she fold and take back her power?
Her will was just as strong as his. Stronger. She’d show him what stubborn was. She wouldn’t ever beg for the privilege of touching him. Instead, he’d plead for the favor of her touch.
“Answer me.”
She looked up to find his stern gaze trained on her face. The soft waves of his light auburn hair fell over his forehead and she was possessed with the urge to reach up and brush the locks away. It wasn’t wise to provoke a berserker’s anger but that’s exactly what she was about to do. Sasha raised her right arm to the headboard and wrapped her fingers around the metal in anticipation of being bound.
“That’s exactly why I came here,” she said low, and did him one better as she added to his list of lewd acts. “To be bound. Used. Pleasured. Licked. Sucked. Fucked.”
Dark shadows passed over his gaze like storm clouds blocking out a golden sunset. He rounded the bed and bound her other wrist, tightening the leather strap until she felt the bite of the restraint on her skin. “Who here touched you, vampire? Who so much as laid eyes on your bare skin? How many here used you tonight?”
Vampire. As though addressing her in such a generic, impersonal way would somehow hurt her. Ewan had cut her deeply once already. She steeled herself against his words. He wouldn’t cut her a second time. His attention wandered from her face in favor of a slow perusal of her body. Suddenly very aware of her nakedness, a chill stole over her, coaxing goose bumps to the surface of her skin and causing her nipples to pearl. The rich musky scent of Ewan’s arousal bloomed around her and she breathed deeply of the intoxicating aroma.