by Kate Douglas
Drawing away from her sex, he blew a cool stream of air over the slick, swollen lips. She shuddered, a sound of pure need whistling from her. “Inside me, Max. Now.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Crawling up the bed, he settled between her thighs and probed her entrance with his cock. Her wetness made him grit his teeth, and he felt his fully extended fangs scrape his lips. God, it felt good. Everything with Kira was good. Fighting with her, fucking her. He groaned and slid deep into her pussy.
Her knees came up to clasp his hips, her hands dragging him down for a demanding, greedy kiss. They bit at each other, as animal as they were human, hungry for more. Her taste was sweet and tart at once, so like the woman herself. He couldn’t get enough of it, of her.
Their bodies moved together, skin slapping, sweat gathering and slipping down their overheating flesh. The mattress squeaked beneath them, and the scent of hot sex floated around them. The carnality of it called to the wolf within him, and both man and beast relished the moment.
He buried his dick deep inside her, over and over until he thought he might die, and knew he’d go out a contented man if he did. Grinding his pelvis against her hard little clit, he pushed her as fast as possible toward orgasm. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out, and he wanted her with him, wanted to feel that clench of inner flesh around his cock, wanted to taste the satisfaction in her kiss.
Max! Her telepathic voice held the sharp edge of pending ecstasy, and her channel clamped down on his shaft. She clawed at his back, bit at his lips. Her urgency only drove him onward.
Faster, harder, deeper. He pushed them both beyond their limits, beyond anything he’d known before. And she was right there with him, the fox in her as feral as the wolf in him.
He released her mouth from the kiss, licked a path down to the base of her throat, and sank his fangs into the sensitive tendon there.
“Oh, yes ... yes, Max!” Her pussy fisted on his thrusting cock, her slim body shaking as orgasm took her under.
He unleashed the fetters on his control and pounded into her sex. The need to come was all that mattered, and he took her like a man possessed. Satisfaction loomed, and he threw himself toward it. His body bowed and shudders racked him as he jetted into her pussy. The intensity of it was just as good as the night before. Better, drawing everything from him in waves of blinding ecstasy. The heat of it should have set his skin on fire.
He collapsed on top of her, and her arms wrapped tight around his neck, holding him close while their bodies cooled and their heart rates slowed to normal. “Jesus, this is the most perfect thing I’ve ever felt, Kira.”
Her laugh was a soft sound. “Let’s not make this more than it is. This is two weeks of a good time, Your Highness. I’m a servant, you’re a prince.”
That jostled some awareness to his brain. He didn’t like the way that sounded at all, though some of it was his own fault. But not all of it. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”
“Your father did.” She yawned, settling more comfortably beneath him.
He snorted. “My father was an asshole, which every Between is well aware of.”
“Yep.”
“So why would you listen to him?” He frowned down at her and she arched her eyebrows at him.
She stretched her arms over her head, and her response was flippant. “Because he was my king and I was living on his island?”
“Well, he’s not anymore. And you’re not even living on the Delacourt island anymore—it’s just the Between island, and you’re a Between. It’s your island.” Some of this came from his father, but some of it came from hers. That was a can of worms he’d rather not open, though. Or reopen, rather. They’d argued about this before. Then again, there wasn’t much they hadn’t debated over the years. The woman was fiercely protective of those she loved, and that included her dead parent. He admired that about her, but he thought she brushed over some of the more archaic notions of social class the elder Seaton had clung to.
“I’m still a servant to the king.” Her words slowed, slurred as her eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
“So am I, prince or not.”
Her mouth opened, then closed, but nothing came out.
“Look at that. Kira Seaton rendered speechless.”
She sputtered a laugh. “Shut up, Max!”
“Sure, I’ll shut up.” Grinning down at her, he dropped a kiss on her soft mouth. She sighed and her lips moved under his, her tongue playing with his. It felt good to kiss her, to tease her into laughter, to just be with her like this. He left her mouth and buried his face in the crook of her neck, drinking in her scent. They lay there for a long time, wrapped together in silence. His muscles loosened and he could feel sleep beckoning. This was perfect. He couldn’t hold the thought back, though he knew he should.
Max ... Her mind breathed his name before she relaxed, utterly spent.
He sensed the moment she dropped into slumber, a soft sigh on her lips that belied the tough exterior.
“Kira.” He said it even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him. Kira. That was the last thought he had before unconsciousness dragged him into oblivion. Just her name, and a wish that this could go on forever.
Those alarms pulsed to life again in the back of his mind, but he was too content to pay heed. Sleep took him, and his dreams were sweet.
And filled with Kira.
4
“Oh, my God!” The horror that rang in Rhiannon’s voice brought Kira to full alert. She bolted up and out of bed, jerking on a set of workout clothes that were on top of her dresser as she careened out of the room.
Her nose twitched; she could smell the stench of blood in the air. That alone was enough to send her pelting down the stairs. Max was right behind her in wolf form, taking steps two at a time, his nails scrabbling against the wood floor. He leaped over the banister, passing her as they both skidded down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Elan had Rhiannon in his arms, shielding her from something or someone, and Kira could scent the ripeness of the other woman’s fear. A chill rippled down her spine as the iron stink of blood intensified.
“What happened?” She swept the room with a glance, and one of the cooks met her gaze for a moment before bursting into tears.
“I’m sorry! It looked the same. I’m so sorry!” The woman covered her face and sobbed.
Max moved around the knot of people, froze, and his telepathic voice hit everyone’s mind as he swore ripely.
Stepping over to stand beside him, Kira had to fight to control her gag reflex. She squatted next to him, one hand burying in the fur at the ruff of his neck.
Someone had cut off a lion’s head and put it in a meat delivery box—the same company they used to deliver all foodstuffs to this cabin. From the outside, the container looked normal, so that explained the cook’s reaction.
I smell him. Max’s mental voice was rough, his fur bristling with his anger. This dangerous side of him only came out when he worked, when his people were threatened. It sent a chill down the spine to see him this way, his rage a palpable, killing force. A few Guards took a step back. He wants to prove he knows where we are, that he can still get to the king.
Message received. Loud and clear.
Kira forced herself to get a grip on her own anger, to retract her fangs. She wanted to track down and destroy anyone who’d dare threaten her people. There can’t be that many ways to get a hold of a lion’s head. That’s one way to trace him.
Yes. The predatory craving for the hunt rang in his telepathic tone.
Pulling in a deep breath that only reeked of death and decay, she swallowed her rising gorge and pivoted on her haunches to look at Elan. “Why don’t you and Rhiannon retire to your room? The Guard will take care of this.”
She nodded to a few of the security staff, who came forward to escort the couple out. Elan’s amber gaze glittered dangerously, and his fangs flashed when he spoke. “No one is supposed to be able to come near
us here. What if there’d been a bomb in that container?”
“We’ll find out what happened.” She straightened slowly, something in his tone reminding her of his father at his most wrathful. “You’ll get a full report.”
“You bet your ass I will,” he snarled. “This should never have happened. I expect you to keep my wife safe. If you can’t do that, I’ll find someone who can.”
Kira felt her expression freeze in place. An echo of her dad’s voice sounded in her head, telling her never to let any emotion show on her face. They can’t take what they don’t know you have, so never give anything away. He’d warned her this moment would come—that her friendship with the Delacourts lasted only as far and as long as she was useful to them.
She offered Elan a formal curtsy—the kind she would have given his father. Servant to monarch. “I understand, Your Majesty.”
Her stomach churned as Elan led Rhiannon away. The drawn paleness of the woman’s face and her silence spoke volumes.
He’s just worried for Rhiannon, Kira. Max’s voice was a quiet rumble in her head, his anger banked for the moment, and she snapped her chin down in a sharp nod, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’ll speak to the delivery company and the cook, see how the boxes got switched.”
I’ll speak to the Guard who was supposed to check all deliveries before they were brought to the house. This was not the cook’s job. Max’s molten anger had frozen to an ice-cold rage, and any smart person would understand that was where the true danger lay. That Guard’s slip was likely to cost him his job today, and he’d be lucky if he got off that easily.
“Great. Let’s get to work, then.” Kira turned to walk out of the room, and she could feel his gaze boring into her back. The hulking form of Barrett filled the kitchen door, a large handgun cradled in his palm. He stepped aside to let her by, and she didn’t meet his piercing gaze either. “Granger, take the cook to the sitting room and calm her down. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
“Of course.”
The need to vomit didn’t dissipate when she got away from the stink of congealed blood. Never in all the years that she’d known him had Elan treated her that way—it was why she’d been willing to come back in the first place, because she’d thought he never would. Max and Elan were different from their despicable father, King Phillip.
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe her dad was right. It was in the worst times that you saw the real person under the masks they showed the world. She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She’d think about what this meant when she was by herself tonight—she had a job to do now.
Hours later, she stood alone with Barrett in the sitting room. Everyone who could be questioned, coerced, or grilled had been, and they were no closer to figuring out who this stalker was than they had been before. The containers had been switched at the warehouse. How, the company couldn’t explain. Anger sizzled in her veins—at this asshole human stalker, at Elan’s behavior, at herself for not having any answers, at the whole damn world. She wanted to put her fist through something until these ugly feelings burned away.
“I hate this,” Barrett hissed. Silver glimmered at the corners of his eyes for a moment, the feral feline in him fighting for control.
“I hear you.”
“I should be out hunting this guy.” He snorted. “I should be back on San Amaro keeping some woman from poaching on—”
It was the most open comment the other man had ever made, but Kira couldn’t help but defend a woman she cared about. “Genesee isn’t poaching on Adam.”
“She doesn’t have to, you can say it. I know the score.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Are you going to say anything about this?”
There was the crux of his problem, what he’d wanted to ask her since she’d seen him with Adam the other night. She met his gaze and gave him the blunt truth. “What you do with your private time is none of my business unless it affects the Guard.”
“It doesn’t.” A muscle jumped in his square jaw. “Hell, I don’t even care if people know. I am what I am. Adam is what he is, and he’s not embarrassed about it either, but he doesn’t want Genesee to think he’s ... unavailable ... if she ever gets her head out of her uptight ass.”
Kira sputtered a laugh, the first since she’d bolted out of bed that morning. “She’s a little tense at times, yeah, but she’s still my friend.”
And a friend her father would approve of, one who was her equal, who wouldn’t turn on her because she was beneath her. She’d always thought her dad overly paranoid because Phillip Delacourt was an especially heinous dickhead. She’d also suspected his distrust of others had something to do with her mother leaving. Kira had vague childhood memories of her mom, but her dad had refused to speak of her after she was gone. All Kira knew about her was that she was from a wealthy American family and had met her father when she was vacationing in London. She’d also died penniless four years after she’d left them. Anything else was a mystery, and Kira only knew that much because she’d done a background check after she’d joined the LAPD.
Kira had assumed her father’s classist attitude stemmed from whatever had happened with his marriage, and that attitude had only been exaggerated by being Phillip’s servant. After today, she wasn’t so sure, and the uncertainty hurt so much it burned.
“I know Genesee’s your friend. I don’t have anything against her, really.” Barrett shook his head, his gaze rueful when it met hers. “Shit. What a mess.”
“On all counts.” And she knew he was talking as much about her problems as anything else. He’d smelled Max on her. Of course he had. Max wouldn’t have made the man his executive officer if he were an idiot.
This whole situation was a clusterfuck. Elan going off on her, her affair with Max, Barrett’s affair with Adam, Adam’s yen for Genesee, and on top of all that, some crazed human after the Between king. A headache bloomed behind Kira’s eyes.
“There’s no way to get out of my mess with Adam, and we’re already doing everything we can about the human.” Barrett’s pale green eyes pinned her in place with the unwavering stare only a cat could manage. “So, what are you going to do about your mess with Max?”
She didn’t know. Everything had started spinning out of whack the moment she gave in to the urge to touch the wolf, and she didn’t know if it would ever go back to normal.
She didn’t know anything anymore, and she hated that.
Max found Kira in the gym, her face set in concentration as she kicked the shit out of a punching bag. He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and watched her in silence. The anger and frustration came off her in waves even a human could sense. Underneath that, he felt the hurt.
He winced, uncertain how to deal with Elan saying the wrong thing. Normally that was Max’s area of expertise. He took a breath and tried to smile. “Think we can talk Rhiannon into a yoga lesson? You look like you could use some relaxation.”
“I’m not interested in bending myself into a pretzel, thanks.” Kira took a hard swing at the punching bag, and her knuckles popped on impact. She grunted and hit it again. “This is very relaxing.”
“Right.” He pushed away from the door and sauntered into the room. The woman looked like she was going to explode. She was pissed at a king and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. It was the story of his childhood. He drew even with her, planting himself well within her reach. If she needed someone to take out her fury on, he’d take whatever she could dish out. He’d unleashed his own ire on the irresponsible Guard who’d let an unexamined package enter the cabin, so it was only fair she got to do the same. “You do look relaxed, sweetcheeks. Yep, cool as a cucumber. I’m sure Elan would be really impressed.”
Wordlessly, she pivoted and caught him hard in the jaw with an uppercut.
His head snapped back and he staggered a few steps, pain shooting straight to his brain. He shook it off, rolled his shoulders, and settled into a fighting stance. Offering her a
grin he knew showed his wolfish side, he gestured her forward with a mocking flick of his fingers. “Okay, let’s play. C’mon, foxy. Give it to me.”
“I’ll give it to you, all right,” she muttered and advanced on him.
He moved to keep her in front of him as she circled him. Her lithe body was displayed to perfection in her tight pants and sports bra. The creamy skin was sheened with sweat, just as it had been the night before when he’d sunk his cock deep inside her.
Bad thoughts to be having when he’d taunted a dangerous woman into lashing out at him. She swung for him, and his hand snapped out to deflect in pure reflex, saving him from a broken nose. A quick shift to wolf form would heal him, but it would hurt like a bitch until he did. And he doubted she’d pause the fight to give him the opportunity to shift.
“Damn it.” She snarled at him, her fangs bared, and she slashed at him with her claws.
“I thought you were going to give it to me, foxy. Don’t be shy, now.” It was the wrong thing to say. Or the right thing, if he was hoping to piss her off more. He blocked her again, his movement making her stumble into him, her curves plastered to his front. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but not from the physical exertion.
They hit and kicked each other, landing glancing blows, neither able to gain the advantage. His heart rate skyrocketed, his breathing beginning to bellow in and out both from having his hands on her bare skin and from the grappling that brought them into full-body contact. God, but he wanted her. He spun her, shoving her away from him so she tripped and hit her knees.
A nimble leap brought her back to her feet. She whipped back around, her eyes blazed with the challenge, her fangs showing when she licked her lips.
He damn near groaned at the sight. This was a bad idea. He was going to get his ass kicked if he didn’t get a grip on his raging lust. As if he’d ever been able to do that with her. His cock was rock hard and uncomfortable as hell under the circumstances. She charged him, her fist catching him in the belly while he blocked her other hand.