by Kate Douglas
She broke the kiss and threw her head back. He used the opportunity to suck her nipple into his hot mouth, biting her through her clothing. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him closer. “Max! Max, I need ...”
This? His telepathic voice was an intimate, throaty rasp. His thumb flicked over her clit, his other fingers shoved deep inside her.
It was more than enough to send her screaming over the edge. Her body froze, every muscle inside her clenching tight, and then her hips jerked frantically as wave after wave of climax exploded through her.
He released her nipple and leaned back in the chair to watch her ride out her orgasm on his thrusting fingers. The cool sea breeze on her wet flesh made her shiver. A small smile tilted up the corners of his kiss-swollen mouth. Last shudders rippled through her body before she slumped against him, gasping for breath.
Lust flushed his face, drew the flesh taut across his sharp cheekbones. “I want you.”
She dropped her forehead to his, stroking her fingers down his biceps. There was no way she was stopping. She had to know what it was like. “Yes. Hurry.”
Something hot and feral flashed in his gaze at her words. His fangs bared when he smiled. She grinned back, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and wrenched it out of the waistband of his pants. He lifted his arms to allow her to yank the garment over his head. Then her hands were on his naked chest.
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he let her touch him all she wanted. Claws scoring into the arms of the chair, his grip went white-knuckled as she petted his flesh. He choked when she pinched his small, brown nipples. His golden gaze burned into her while he panted. A quick burst of power filled her, and her heart hammered as renewed passion ratcheted up inside her.
She skimmed her fingertips down the sculpted planes of his torso. Well-defined pecs led to the ridges of his abs. His stomach sucked in when she circled his navel, and a chuckle burst out of him.
“Ticklish? Really?” Devilish delight filled her and she wiggled her fingers threateningly just over his skin.
He snorted. “Really. Quit teasing, Kira. I’m dying here. I need you.”
Those words from his mouth made her insides seize in shock. Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. Something sweet bloomed in her chest, and she crushed it, locked it tight into the deepest corner of her soul. No. This was physical need, nothing more. She didn’t want more. He was way out of her league.
Letting the air out of her lungs, she reached for his belt. Jerking the leather from the buckle, she opened it and his fly in rapid succession. She was taking this insanity for a spin before it wore off and reality returned. It would sooner or later.
He shoved his hips up to meet her touch when she reached into his pants. He groaned, his chest bellowing with each rough breath. Please, Kira.
The soft skin over his hard shaft was irresistible. She stroked her fingers down the underside of his cock, pulling him free of his pants. Wrapping her hand around his dick, she pumped him fast and leaned forward to suck his earlobe into her mouth.
The sounds he made in response to her touch sent wetness pulsing into her sex. His big body jolted when she bit down on his ear, and a snarl ripped loose from his throat. She could all but hear the last tethers on his control snapping.
He let go of the chair and grabbed her hips, yanking her forward until their sexes aligned. She pushed down as he shoved upward, and they both groaned as he filled her to the limit.
Oh, God. If she hadn’t been so damp, it might have hurt. He was so large. She clamped her hands on his shoulders, her pussy flexing around his cock as she worked to accommodate his girth. He rocked himself against her, and the angle was perfect.
Rolling her hips with each movement he made, she increased her pleasure. His rich scent was all she could smell, his bare skin on hers was all she could feel, his low groans and the creak of the chair beneath them were all she could hear. Everything within her focused on this moment. With him.
His palm pressed to the middle of her back, arching her until he could suck on her nipple again. The fabric of her clothes frustrated her, but not enough to stop in order to get rid of the offending garments. Her hips rose and fell, her pussy stretched by his long cock. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Everything else was irrelevant.
Sinking his teeth into her soft flesh made her cry out in stunned ecstasy. Their movements became less fluid, more frantic. The drive to orgasm took over and they thrust and ground their bodies together in that one unstoppable urge.
Kira, I—
Anything he said was lost in the implosion that rocked her body. Her walls clenched tight on his cock, milking the length of him as she came harder than she ever had in her life. The intensity of it shook her, and every thrust of his dick inside her sent her spinning into oblivion once more. When it was over, her mind was blank and her body limp. She collapsed against his chest, and he cradled her close, the tenderness as shattering as everything else they’d done together that night.
A sense of unreality flooded her and she closed her eyes tight. Oh, God. It had been so good. Everything she’d ever fantasized about and more.
What the hell had she done?
2
What the hell had he done?
It had been so good. Everything he’d ever fantasized about and more.
Thank God the wedding had gone off without a hitch, and Kira was in charge of security, because Max couldn’t get his head in the game to save his life, let alone anyone else’s. It was perhaps the only time he’d been grateful that his position as the king’s brother took him away from his duties in the King’s Guard.
Guests swirled around him, laughing and dancing. A small orchestra played, and he offered a reflexive smile to a passing diplomat. She was attractive, a woman he would normally have pursued for an evening of pleasure, but tonight he didn’t give her a second glance. His gaze was drawn like a magnet to Kira. He swallowed hard. He’d imagined being with her for so long, but he’d never dreamed it would actually happen. Until last night, he’d thought Kira wanted Elan, not him. Not Max.
Sure, he’d flirted, he’d fantasized. Kira was beautiful, intelligent, and dangerous. Irresistible temptation. But he’d thought he was the only one tempted. They’d known each other their entire lives, and their relationship was as much rivalry as friendship. Even as children, he’d loved to make her react. He’d tug on her pigtails and she’d kick his shins.
It was Elan she got along with, Elan she’d come back to the island for. Not Max.
And last night had shattered everything he thought he knew about them. It scared him more than anything had in years. Not since the last woman he’d—
No. He slammed the door on that memory. Even the thought of comparing Kira to—
Stop. He shut down all emotion the way he had to any time he worked, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch him. If sickness pooled in his belly, curdling into something painful enough to bring him to his knees, he ignored it.
He dragged in a deep breath, his heightened wolf senses filtering through the explosion of scents in the room. Humans, Between, perfume, sweat, sex, food, flowers. Taking it all in, he let his gaze rove the crowd, looking for problems. That was what he did, what he was. His job.
You’re not on duty, little brother. Try to relax. Elan’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, his mental voice holding only the mildest of rebukes.
I’m always on duty.
This is Kira’s job tonight.
He knew, and it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her and his handpicked people to do their jobs, but the extra risk of these kinds of events made him antsy that he couldn’t be the one running things. Usually. When he could focus for more than two seconds on something other than the mind-blowing lay he’d had the night before. He shrugged his brother’s hand away and shook his head. You hate these kinds of shindigs, too.
It’s my wedding. I’m making an exception.
Congratulations, Elan. You deserve every good thing that comes y
our way. And I’m not just saying that to practice for the toast later.
Shut up, Max! Elan’s laughter rippled over the crowd, and bone-deep contentment radiated from the older man. Max refused to acknowledge the stab of envy that ripped through him. Elan and Rhiannon deserved their happiness—they’d had a rough road getting to it. Max had had his chance at that kind of happiness a long time before, and he’d blown it. There were no second shots for people who’d screwed up as badly as he had.
Still, his gaze went automatically to Kira, his hand tightening on the champagne flute in his hand.
She was beautiful. That was all he could think as he watched her move around the room with that controlled efficiency of hers.
Just looking at her turned him on.
Kira moved closer to his new sister-in-law, leaning in to hear what Rhiannon had to say. After a moment, both women burst into laughter. Most people’s gazes would have been drawn to Rhiannon, with her brilliant red-gold hair and rippling, infectious giggle, but Max couldn’t take his eyes off Kira. She was like contained fire, her bright eyes dancing in amusement, her dark auburn hair catching the light overhead when her head tilted back in a throaty chuckle.
He smiled and didn’t look away even when Elan nudged his arm to get his attention. His brother’s gaze followed his and he snorted. “They make quite the picture, don’t they?”
“Yeah, they really do.” Max took a deep draw of the expensive champagne.
“You should do something about that yen you have for her, little brother.”
For once in his life, Max remained silent.
Elan waited a long beat, then shook his head. “Come on. I want to ask my wife to dance.”
“You don’t need me for that.” The protest was more pro forma than anything else, because Max followed along obediently enough. Of course. He hadn’t spoken to Kira since that morning, when they’d woken up in her bed together. A new threat against the queen had come in and last-minute wedding details had sucked them both into their duties. He’d been at a run most of the day. It hadn’t stopped him from thinking about how Kira looked tousled from sleep, lips swollen from his kisses. He swallowed a curse as his cock reacted to the crystal-clear memory.
“I’m more than ready to escape for the honeymoon, but you just can’t pry Rhiannon away from a party.” Elan maneuvered them through the crowd with the skill of a practiced politician.
“A few more hours, some royal ceremonial fun, and you’ll be free.” Max pitched his voice low, knowing the crowd would drown out his voice even from the sensitive ears of a Between. “Then the sexfest can begin.”
Max and Kira would also be along for the sexfest, serving as security for the royal couple. Isolated in a cabin for two weeks with a woman who’d gone up in flames in his arms. That thought made his cock harden to the point of pain. He was usually more than ready to get out after a one-night stand, but it was Kira. She was his friend, his colleague. Someone he respected. Someone who was already under his skin, which was somewhere he never let his lovers get. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Shit.
This was a complete disaster. What had he been thinking? What was she going to expect from him? With most women, he wouldn’t even have to wonder. With Kira, he didn’t have a clue. Like him, she wasn’t one to have long-lasting relationships, which was his only consolation. He hated the gut-grinding sensation that accompanied the thought that she was just using him for sex. That should have been the perfect solution. They’d had an itch to scratch; it was scratched. End of story.
For the first time in damn near forever, that wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Just a little. He could handle that, couldn’t he? It wasn’t as if he could take back the night before, so what could a few more nights hurt?
He rolled his eyes at the justifications. He was in such deep shit.
All he could do now was damage control.
Elan whisked Rhiannon away for a waltz, leaving Max gawping at Kira in silence. The first thing that blurted out of his mouth made him wince. “This ends when the honeymoon is over.”
“Fine.” Her chin lifted, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Everyone knows you’re the love ’em and leave ’em type, Delacourt. Did you really think I assumed it’d be different for me?”
He tried to reel his tongue back in and clean up the usual mess his mouth made. “I just ... I wouldn’t ...”
“Your Highness,” she said coolly, using the princely title he hated. His hackles rose, but before he could reply, she flapped her hand to encompass the royal military uniform he wore. “You couldn’t pay me to live in your pomp and ceremony world. I’ll take the servants’ entrance over the red carpet any day.”
Well, it was good to see that some things never changed. He was still pulling her pigtails and she was still kicking his shins.
“Jesus, Max.” Rhiannon peered out of the French doors off Elan’s office suite. A small army of men and women readied several helicopters for flight. “Is it really necessary to bring everyone in the Guard on the honeymoon?”
“Yes.” The answer shot from both Kira’s and Max’s mouths at the same time. Max glanced over and met her eyes, knowing she was thinking about the recent threats against his brother’s and sister-in-law’s lives.
“I already lost this argument.” Elan’s lips twitched in a wry smile, and he forked his fingers through his mane of gold hair. The disheveled locks made him look the part of the lion-shifter. The only lion-shifter among all the Between people, which was why he was king.
Max could only be thankful he wasn’t the lion. He’d never craved that kind of power, much to his father’s disappointment. If his father had had his way, Max would have been as invested in politics as he had always been, as Elan had always been. That wasn’t Max and it never would be—it had taken finding a place for himself in the Marines, a place he finally flourished, to figure that out. Kira had once mocked him that the only things he took seriously were security and sex ... and maybe just security.
She hadn’t been far off.
Of course, his father would say that Max was suited to a military life. It was the only useful thing a born killer could do. His mother had died giving birth to him. As a boy, he’d even killed a man who tried to assassinate his father. And those were the least of his crimes. Covering up the dark side of his nature with the carefree playboy prince had always served Max well.
Sir, we’re ready for them. Barrett’s voice filled his mind. His new executive officer. It was discomfiting after years of having Kira as his right hand.
His senses vibrated with pure carnal awareness as she brushed past him and joined Rhiannon at the door. Flicking her short hair away from her face, she glanced back at him and jerked her chin down to indicate they were good to go with escorting the royal couple to the helos. With all the wedding guests and extra hired help still on the island, security was even tighter than usual. It would be easier than ever for some nutjob to do something homicidally stupid. The king and queen went nowhere without an escort.
“Let’s get this show on the road, ladies and gents.” Max grinned and swept his arm toward the exit with a formal bow.
He straightened and shrugged tight shoulders. He couldn’t wait to get out of this room. He hated it. Elan had redecorated the office when he had taken the throne, but Max would always remember the years of disappointed lectures, browbeatings, and angry fights that made every moment in the room a misery for him as a youth. He could still see the faded marks his claws had made on the desk during a vicious beating his father had doled out. Max couldn’t even recall what he’d done to deserve that particular punishment. He pushed away the unpleasant memories as he always did and focused on the task at hand.
Kira took point in the group of Guards that surrounded the king and queen, while Max brought up the rear. Ignoring the rough thwap of the helo’s blades slicing through the air, he scanned the crowd of curious guests who came to watch them take off, noting no one out of place. Good. The Guards wor
ked like the well-oiled machines they were, and in moments Max and Kira were in the helicopter with Elan and Rhiannon. The rest of the Guards would fill the other helos.
Kira studiously avoided his gaze on the flight to the palatial mountain cabin the Delacourt family owned. Max’s great-grandfather had amassed quite a fortune before he’d become the Between king, and later generations of the family had kept up the entrepreneurial bent—something else Max’s father had tried to push him into. If he couldn’t be useful in politics, then he could at least do his duty to his family name and excel at business. Max snorted. His father had excelled at disappointment. Elan had had it worse, though. The old man had seen Elan as a competitor, and Max had always suspected some part of their father had known his elder son would make a far better ruler than he had the ability to be.
Max caught his brother passing Rhiannon a look, and he suspected the two were speaking telepathically. When his sister-in-law’s gaze flicked between him and Kira, he knew what the topic of conversation was. Right. He sighed.
The fox-shifter had said very little to him since he’d put his foot in it at the reception, and apparently the chill had been noticed. He had his doubts that their affair would continue at all, let alone for the extent of the honeymoon, and he had no one to blame except himself and his big mouth. Give him a military operation and he did fine. Put him in a personal situation and he said the wrong thing every time. One would think he’d have learned to keep his trap shut, but not so much.
He drew in a breath and Kira’s heady feminine scent punched through him. Lust rode him with a viciousness that shouldn’t have surprised him, but the night before had only sharpened his craving for her. Damn his verbal ineptitude. The frustration ripping through him did nothing to cage the feral wolf-shifter within him that wanted to claim her.
The pilot raised his voice to be heard over the helo’s blades. “Sixty seconds to landing.”