by Danica Avet
Izzy blinked up at him, really seeing him for the first time. “Yer hawt, Ricky!” she exclaimed loudly, nearly falling from her stool in stunned amazement. “Yer a hawt honey bear.” She laughed at herself.
He rolled his eyes, though the tips of his ears turned red. “Why won’t you look behind you?”
“How did you know I won’t look?” she demanded. The last she’d heard, bears couldn’t read minds.
“Bears can’t read minds, Isola.”
She gasped in shock.
Ricky sighed. “You said it out loud,” he told her patiently.
“Oh.” She relaxed on her stool again, her ears attuned to the noisy fighting behind her. She hoped Grant wasn’t getting hurt. She really wasn’t sure she could fight after two of Duffy’s drinks in her.
“Isola?” Ricky prompted, nudging her with his hip.
She swayed on her stool and frowned at him. “Huh?”
He gave a long sigh. “Why won’t you look to see what Grant is doing?” he asked her slowly and clearly.
“Oh,” Izzy said again, trying to remember why it wasn’t a good idea. She tapped her fingers on the top of the bar. Then she snapped her fingers, or tried to. She attempted it two more times before Ricky’s hand covered her tangled fingers. “Caush ish not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Izzy glared at the nosy bear. “Caush then I’ll want to fuck him, and thash against my vows.”
* * * *
Grant was breathing hard. Blood trickled down his face from various cuts, his ribs were cracked, and his knuckles swollen and bruised. But at least the bastards knew where they stood in Isola’s life—nowhere.
Wiping blood out of his eye with the back of his hand, Grant shifted to his human form. He was sore, he was tired, and he was horny.
And that’s when he heard Isola slur that she’d want to fuck him even though it was against her vows.
The erection that he’d been sporting before the brawl had eased, but at those words, it sprang right back to attention harder and more painful than before. Some of the shifters he’d just beat the shit out of perked up at her words, but with one severe glance and a deep growl, they looked away from the tempting figure slumped on the barstool.
Ricky was laughing, tears streaming down his face as he used one finger to keep Isola from falling off her stool. Duffy’s face was impassive as usual, though there was the hint of a smile in his eyes. Grant stomped over to the bar as forcefully as he could with his injuries.
“We’re leaving,” he announced loudly, causing his lip to start bleeding again. That was romantic, he snorted to himself and looped Isola’s arm around his neck.
She slipped off the stool, her body falling flush against his. The soft curves of her breasts pressed into his chest, making his ribs ache, but he didn’t give a shit. If it were up to him, she would be plastered to him at all times.
“I’m not ready to leave,” she mumbled, looking up at him with those big brown eyes. Her face was flush from the drink and though the sweat from her fight had long dried, tendrils of her hair stuck to her face. This was probably what she looked like after a hot and heavy round of sex, he thought, his cock twitching with anticipation. “I wanna ’nother drink.”
“I don’t think you should have another,” he answered, ignoring Ricky’s shaking shoulders as he laughed.
Her face turned mutinous, the corners of her mouth tightening with impending temper. “You don’ tell me whatta do.”
Grant sighed. “I’m not telling you what to do, sweetheart. I’m just tryin’ to get you home before you fall flat on your face.”
She waved her hand under his nose, smacking him in the jaw. “I can hannle my liq—3 She slumped against him, snoring.
Looking down at the sexy, inebriated Amazon in his arms, Grant smiled. “How much did she drink?” he asked Duffy as he lifted her against his chest.
The demon lord looked at the ceiling as he counted. “Five Atomic Bombs, which is a record.” His eyes lowered to pin Grant in place. “She’s a good woman, Grant Strickland. Don’t be fucking with her like you do your other pretties.”
Grant’s neck burned with a blush as the demon lord gave him a dark look. He’d slept with Duffy’s great-niece one time, but she’d seduced Grant, not the other way around. Duffy didn’t see it that way and it was a wonder the demon didn’t bar Grant from entering his place.
“I’m trying to get her to mate with me,” he mumbled softly, though not softly enough as Ricky’s eyes widened in surprise.
His cousin looked between Grant and Isola, then back again. “Are you serious? Your mom’ll freak out!”
Grant shrugged and began making his way through the shifters still on the ground with his tender burden in his arms. He knew his mom would have a fit. It didn’t matter, though. Isola was perfect for him. He hadn’t planned on finding a mate so soon, hell, everyone knew that, but he hadn’t counted on running into an Amazon with a lot of sass and the balls to stand up for herself.
Ricky was following him, nudging fallen men to make sure they were still breathing. “She’s nothing but trouble, Grant.” He took in the destruction his normally calm cousin had created. “You’ve never lost your temper as much in your entire life as you have since you met her.”
Pushing his way outside, Grant started for his truck. “True, but I’ve never had a mate before.”
“You don’t have one now,” Ricky pointed out logically. “Did you forget about her vow of chastity? Amazons don’t take things like that lightly. And even if she agreed, what happens when you start building your harem? Do you think that little firecracker is gonna be okay with that?”
Grant put Isola in the passenger seat of his truck, fastening the seatbelt around her. Her scent drove him mad. It lingered on his clothing and in his nose after he closed the door. Turning to his cousin, he crossed his arms and tried not to show the nervousness he felt. He’d made his decision and no one was going to talk him out of it.
“I can change her mind about the vow, if she actually did make one. And as for the harem, I’m not taking one. I don’t need a harem to carry on the Strickland name.” With that announcement, he stalked around the truck to get in the driver’s seat.
Without looking at the stunned Ricky, he started the engine and left Duffy’s parking lot. Ricky was still standing in the same spot, Grant saw as he glanced in the rearview mirror. Yeah, he’d done more than shock his cousin, he knew. He’d stupefied him and horrified him more than likely. But Grant knew in his heart that his decision was the right one. There would be no others once Isola was his.
As he drove through town back to his land, he tried to think of ways he could break the news to his mom and the old man. Paul Strickland was an old, traditional minotaur and he expected his only son to carry on the family name in grand style by having one of the biggest harems in Wyoming. Grant winced at the thought of his father’s disappointment, but he wouldn’t let it deter him.
Isola wasn’t a cow-swan, so she wouldn’t be comfortable with life in a harem. But even if she was okay with it, Grant wasn’t sure he could do it. Just thinking about mating with anyone other than Isola made him sick to his stomach. No, she would be his only mate and she’d love it. He just needed to convince her of that before his pheromones ramped up her fertility cycle because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out the need to take her.
Chapter Thirteen
Izzy was warm and comfortable. Sighing contentedly, she stretched and clutched her pillow tighter. She’d had the most amazing dream, she thought sleepily.
She’d dreamed that she had gone to Wyoming, of all places, and met a sexy minotaur who made her forget all about her one attempt at a relationship and how horrible it had turned out. He’d made love to her for hours, treating her like a fragile flower and not a battle-hardened Amazon. It had been simply amazing.
Pressing her cheek against her pillow, Izzy breathed in the scent of male musk and spices. Mmm, sexy. She rubbed her
cheek over the pillow, enjoying the friction of hair abrading her cheek. She paused in mid rub. Hair?
Her eyes blinked open, but it took her several seconds before she could focus on anything. She wasn’t in her tent near Forked Island, Louisiana. No, this was a house. She was in a masculine bedroom that looked familiar. She’d been in it the day before. Or was it the same day? She couldn’t remember, but her jaw ached, and there was a burning pain in her arm. What the hell had happened?
She didn’t bother looking at her pillow. She knew who it was just by the way her body was toasty warm and the scent that filled her nostrils. Grant. Why she was in bed with him without a stitch of clothing on, she couldn’t say. She wasn’t sore in the most obvious places, so they hadn’t had sex, but they were both naked and his cock was hot and heavy against her thigh.
Yeah, time to extract herself from the bed before he woke up. Easing away from his delicious warmth, Izzy managed to remove her leg from where it was draped over his groin without him moving. Peeking up at his sleeping face, she fought the urge to sigh like a lovesick teenager. He was a handsome devil, no question about it, but she wasn’t going to fall for that trap again. Nope, Izzy Malone didn’t let a pretty face bypass her common sense anymore.
The sheet covering them was twisted around her right leg, trapping her in the bed even after she’d untangled her body from Grant’s. Muttering under her breath, she wasted precious minutes unwrapping her leg while trying not to jostle the bed too much. She’d just managed to free herself when Grant’s body shifted closer to her, curling around her as she leaned half out of the bed.
His head rested on her right breast, his nose nuzzling her nipple. Izzy froze, waiting to see if he’d wake up. His breathing didn’t alter and his eyes didn’t flicker, but he wasn’t idle. No, the damned man’s hands stroked over her naked body as though he owned it. Izzy’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as those big, warm, raspy mitts moved over her sensitive skin.
Her breath caught in her chest as he brushed his lips across her nipple. She should move, get away from him before they did something she would regret, but gods, it felt so good! Her back arched a bit as she tried to get her nipple in perfect alignment with his mouth. She just needed a little pleasure, she thought hazily, just a little bit of him before she pulled away.
The man might have been asleep, but his body knew exactly what to do because his mouth opened over her hardened flesh, his tongue laving her nipple with expertise. Izzy went boneless. Her legs fell open and she let herself experience being loved up by a sleepy Grant. Air whooshed from her lungs as his teeth scraped over her nipple and her hands found their way into his thick hair, holding him to her breast.
She moaned softly as one of his hands slid up the inside of her thigh. He moved so slowly she wanted to grab his damn hand and put it where she wanted it most, but then he found that spot all on his own. Long, thick fingers stroked her pussy, and Izzy’s hips began dancing, trying to get him inside her. Then, oh gods, one of those clever fingers slid inside her quivering body.
Eyes closed as she reveled in the sensation, Izzy rolled her hips in time with his thrusting finger. A second finger quickly joined the first, stretching muscles that hadn’t been touched by anyone but herself in decades. Sighing softly, she widened her legs, wanting more. Her hands slid down the back of Grant’s neck, stroking his skin as she lost herself in pleasure.
“Oh!” she gasped as a third finger entered her, stretching her almost to the point of pain.
The pain faded quickly as pleasure mounted in great waves. Grant’s mouth tugged on her nipple as his fingers fucked her hard and fast. Then he brushed his thumb over her clit. Her eyes flew open. She looked down only to see Grant’s eyes open and black.
She should have been pissed, and she was…somewhere in her body, but it floated away until it was buried in the back of her mind. All that remained was the pleasure Grant gave her. Izzy’s blunt fingernails dug into his shoulders as she felt herself tugged towards the precipice of orgasm.
“Please,” she moaned, her head flung back as she reached for it.
His mouth moved to her other nipple, suckling hard as his fingers curved to reach a tender, extremely sensitive spot in her body. When he touched it, Izzy’s body stiffened as though she’d been electrocuted. She came harder than she ever had before, a strangled scream whistling from her throat as her inner muscles convulsed around his stroking fingers.
She fell against the bed, limp and panting for breath as his finger retreated from her body. But was the bull finished? Oh no, of course not. She should’ve just jumped out of bed instead of trying to be discreet. She should have punched him in the head when he went after her nipple, but oh no, she hadn’t. And now she was paying the price.
She whimpered as his mouth drifted down her belly. The ring through his septum brushed her flesh slightly, leaving a hot trail behind. Izzy wiggled in his hold, wishing she could find that much lauded self-control her sisters were always saying she had…somewhere in her body.
Then his mouth found the very center of her being and she forgot all about self-control. Hissing in pleasure, she dug her hands into his hair and pressed him closer. She was still so sensitive from her orgasm she quivered beneath his questing tongue.
* * * *
Grant was lost in the taste of Isola. Waking up with his hands on her body, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from bringing her to orgasm just like he wasn’t able to stop himself from doing it again. She was like a drug. Her orgasms fed his lust, making it burn higher.
She was so responsive, so open with her sexuality he could spend hours with his tongue inside her. He groaned against her flesh, his tongue seeking her rigid clit. Her thighs tensed as though to close, and he quickly pressed his hands on them to hold her open wide. Leaning back slightly, he looked at her sweet, little pussy and felt his cock jerk in reaction.
“Gorgeous,” he moaned, dipping his head to lap at her again. She tasted like cream and spicy femininity.
He thrust his tongue into her saturated channel, his nose ring pressing against her clit. Izzy’s body shook as jolt after jolt of magical electricity surged through her body before it bounced back to his. They were connected. He could feel it as his heart sped up to beat in time with the pulsing thud of her femoral artery.
His cock throbbed. His balls drew up tight as he neared his own orgasm just from fucking her with his tongue. Her inner muscles quivered around his tongue as more moisture flooded his mouth. She was close. Moving slightly, Grant wrapped his lips around her clitoris and suckled.
She screamed, her fingernails leaving marks in his scalp, but the pain only added to the pleasure of his own orgasm. He came all over the bedspread, his hips thrusting in time with Isola’s clenching pussy. He nuzzled her gently, his tongue flicking over her clit one last time. Her back arched and she trembled in his hold.
Resting his head on her thigh, he breathed in her musky scent, loving how well she responded to him. She had been made specifically for him. He knew it as surely as he knew no other woman had ever satisfied him as well without even being inside her.
Grant gloried in the harsh sounds of her breathing as she struggled to gain control over herself. He’d brought this mighty little Amazon to climax twice and left her a quivering mass of flesh and bone. He smiled against her skin. He was in heaven.
Then she punched him in the head. Grant saw stars for a moment before she punched him again, this time on the shoulder. Rolling off his pissed-off mate, he landed on the floor and was on his feet just in time to see her launch herself at him.
Long legs wrapped around his waist at the same time her hands encircled his throat. She was trying to strangle him! He was momentarily distracted when her thighs tightened around him, pressing her still wet flesh against his stomach. Oh fuck, that felt good! But the need for air pushed any thoughts of lust from his brain. Encircling her wrists, he pulled her hands from his throat.
“What’s wro—” he started, but was cut
off, as with a loud crunch, she head-butted him.
Roaring in pain, he let go of her hands, pushing her off his body more forcefully than he intended. She flew away from him, landing in a heap on the bed. Blood poured from his nose and tears burned his eyes. She was insane! He was so pissed he shouted just that at her.
The crazy woman jumped up, standing in the middle of his bed buck naked but for a tiny ring on one of her toes. She slapped her hands on her hips, her eyes burning with anger. “I’m crazy? Well…you’re a molester!”
Grant paused, blinking. “Huh?”
“Yeah, you heard me. You molested me, and I don’t take that shit from no one!” she shouted at him.
“How did I molest you?” he asked, thoroughly confused.
“You…touched me without permission!”
Grant’s anger faded a bit and he smirked at her. “You weren’t complaining when you pressed my face against your pretty little pussy.”
Color flooded her body. He saw it happen. It was a rosy glow that started at her chest and flowed upwards until her face was bright red. Her mouth fell open as though she wasn’t quite sure how to react. He smiled deeply.
Her hands fisted at her sides, and she glared at him, her eyes angry slits in her red face. “I knew this would happen if I stayed here,” she growled at him.
Grant’s head tilted to the side. She was a lot more pissed off than he thought she’d be. It was disproportionate to what had happened. He hadn’t fucked her, after all. And she’d asked for more, he was pretty sure she had.
Doubt hovered in his mind as he tried to recall the moments between waking up and loving her. She hadn’t moved. She’d held still for him, her back arching up to him in a silent plea for more.
“I want a fucking apology, or I’m leaving and you can try to figure out what the killer nymphs want on your own,” she told him, her nose in the air haughtily.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he knew this was a critical moment in the relationship he hoped to form with her. Isola was hardheaded and strong. If he apologized to her for giving her pleasure, he’d never be on equal footing with her. She’d always see him as weaker, even if he wasn’t.