Falke’s Peak pn-1

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  Tongue, teeth, nipping, biting, mewling like a kitten, panting like a tigress. Ah, yes…

  “Please,” she said on a harsh breath when he grabbed her ass cheeks and lifted her from the counter.

  Then she cried out when he shoved inside of her. She was so hot, so wet for him. Her inner muscles squeezed him, and he grunted as he slammed her back against the counter for leverage.

  “More,” she begged, and so he gave her more, everything.

  She gripped his neck, her head thrown back, her legs anchored around him. He leaned over her and drew one fat nipple between his teeth.

  Dakota squealed and bucked against him, then fell back and whacked the back of her head against the wall. “Shit!” she cried, but her nails dug into his back and shoulders.

  He lifted her, nearly toppling both of them to the floor because his pants were around his ankles, and she landed hard on the table, him over her. One of the stools crashed to the floor.

  Her husky laugh sent a piercing shard of heat into his heart, and when she looked at him with that come-and-fuck-me grin, his knees damn near buckled. Her nails scored his sides, making him hiss, causing goose bumps to erupt across his back. She squeezed her inner muscles around his cock, and he groaned.

  Gunnar pulled away, out of her, and flipped her over, her belly against the sturdy table. She had the cutest ass he’d ever seen, and he grabbed it with both hands then gave it a sharp little slap that made her squeal and wiggle.

  “Don’t tease,” she said, laughing. She tossed her hair and looked over her shoulder at him.

  He met her gaze, aligned his cock and plowed in to the hilt with one hard thrust.

  She cried out. He didn’t stop. He rode her hard, fucking her with wild abandon. And, damn him, she felt perfect.

  He slapped her ass again and she yelped. Another smack and stroke, and she hissed, “Yes.”

  Dakota clawed at the tabletop, flailed for a handhold, until he grabbed her wrists, pulled them behind her back and bound her with one firm fist. His other hand at her shoulder, Gunnar pulled her toward him, held her steady, while he repeatedly bucked against her, rocking the table, ramming his cock as deep as humanly possible.

  “Oh…oh, yeah. Yes. D-don’t stop,” she begged, not that he had any intention of doing so. He’d prefer this moment last forever, but all too soon his climax neared.

  He struggled to hold it off a little longer, wanting to stay united flesh with flesh, needing this union to last.

  Maintaining a tight grip on her wrists, Gunnar reached beneath her with his free hand and found her slick clit.

  He pressed against it with the heel of his palm as he fucked her harder and harder with every stroke.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Her body tensed, she went up on tiptoes.

  He slid his hand back, found that little bundle of nerves and pinched.

  She screamed, and her body clamped down on him so tightly he thought he’d pass out. His orgasm struck with the force of a grizzly’s paw. Gunnar gritted his teeth, shoved into her body as deep as he could, and let himself go.

  He had no time to revel in post-coital afterglow.

  As soon as he came, his sanity returned, his senses restored, and he heard the telltale thud of catamount paws.

  He glanced up and saw Axel peering into the window just feet from them. “Oh, fuck.”

  Dakota giggled.

  He tensed, knowing Axel would’ve roared if he could have.

  Instead, his big brother deafened his mind with, Gunnar! And his ears with the most powerfully shrill cry of fury.

  Gunnar pulled out of her sweet body and struggled to yank up his pants without falling on his ass.

  “Where the hell is my shirt?” He couldn’t find it, and judging by the sounds coming from outside, he had little choice but to go without.

  “What’s wrong?” Dakota straightened up, her tee still bunched up above her breasts and lacy panties caught around one ankle.

  Reowww!

  “Nothing. Stay here. I need to go…uh…check on Falke.”

  Worry marred her face now as she pulled her shirt down, her panties up then ran to the window. She reached for her coat. He stopped her as he grabbed his own.

  “No. I’ll be fine,” he said with a slight wince at the lie and a glance out the window to see Axel swipe, with claws bared, at a support post on the front porch.

  Get the fuck out here, now, goddamn it!

  He was a dead man.

  “Stay here,” he repeated, trying not to cringe at the volume of Axel’s telepathic curses. “I’ll go see what has him so riled up and be back soon.” I hope.

  Damn, he’d screwed up.

  * * *

  You fucking son of a bitch! Axel cursed when Gunnar cleared the doorway and shut the door behind him. He hissed, spat, growled. The ridge. Now!

  Axel took off for the woods, and Gunnar strapped on the snowshoes still sitting on the porch from less than a half hour earlier. How was he going to get out of this one? Especially after all his talk about Axel not being able to control himself.

  Damn, though, she’d been sweet.

  He glanced at the window as he stepped into the snow to see Dakota there, watching him. He forced a smile and waved, then headed for the ridge, and his fate with his pissed off brother.

  As soon as he cleared the trees, Axel demanded, Change. Now.

  “Wait a second, Axel. Let’s be reasonable—” Axel took a swipe at him with bared claws, ripping into the heavy winter coat. Now, goddamn you. Shift!

  After a moment of stunned silence, unable to believe his brother had swiped at him while he was still in human form, anger rushed through him deep and fast. “Fine!” He threw off the jacket and dropped his pants. In a flash, he shifted. Just as he finished the change, Axel was on him.

  Gunnar’s cat legs tangled in the pants, boots and snowshoes, and he had to twist and contort to scramble out of them and avoid Axel’s snapping jaws. Stop, Axel. Hear me out!

  Axel pounced, snapping his teeth in his face, digging his claws into his hide, as they rolled in the snow.

  Gunnar broke free and faced off against his brother.

  It took you all of five minutes, didn’t it? Axel demanded. You planned it. You wanted to pretend to be me so you could fuck her.

  No! Gunnar protested. I didn’t tell you to run off.

  Soon as I returned, she wanted to continue what you started…with that kiss. What was I supposed to do?

  Not fuck her!

  She seduced me. She came on to me.

  They circled and feinted this way and that, each one seeking a weakness, a point of attack. Axel found one first. He swiped at Gunnar, his claws finding their mark, and Gunnar had had enough. He growled and countered Axel’s attack with a leap, landing on top of him, his claws buried into his brother’s sides. Axel yipped like a puppy and then turned his head and snapped, getting Gunnar in the shoulder.

  Gunnar shrieked in pain but hung on.

  You outweigh her by sixty pounds, you asshole. I’m supposed to believe you couldn’t stop her? From what I saw, she wasn’t pinning you to the table! Axel reared up on his hind legs and fell back, intentionally throwing his weight onto Gunnar.

  Gunnar grunted and lost his hold on his brother. He turned, grabbed Gunnar’s throat and pinned him in the snow, belly up. Gunnar tried to push him away with his paws, but he had no leverage in the soft snow. And he didn’t want to hurt his brother…not any more than he already had. Gunnar’s will to fight died as quickly as it had flared.

  Okay, okay, Gunnar cried. I get it, you’re pissed.

  I’m sorry.

  Axel snarled and clamped his teeth tighter, inflicting more pain but not breaking skin. Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.

  I know. I’m sorry. Ax, I’m your brother.

  Another menacing snarl.

  I didn’t mean for it to happen. I swear. She’s just…irresistible. You gotta know that! And when she grabbed my cock-The teeth tightened
on his throat.

  Stop!

  With a loud yowl, Axel released Gunnar’s throat and leaped away, his tail swishing, golden-green eyes full of distrust…and hurt.

  Gunnar didn’t need to hear his brother’s thoughts to know that it would be a long time before he was forgiven. They’d never let a woman come between them in their entire lives. He refused to accept the idea that this woman might. Axel needed time to calm down before he spoke to him about Dakota. Gunnar would give him that.

  Axel turned and bounded through the snow to the pile of clothes on the ground, shifted, and hurried to dress. Gunnar lay in the snow and watched, noting the scratches on his neck and both sides of his body.

  Scratches, but not much blood. They’d inflicted much worse on each other in their younger years. The flesh wounds would heal; he just hoped the emotional scars would too.

  Once Axel disappeared into the woods, Gunnar rolled to his paws to assess the damage to his own body. A few scrapes here and there, but nothing major.

  It looked like the winter jacket Axel had retrieved had gotten the worst of it. Even when mad enough to maim, Axel hadn’t fought to kill, just get the upper hand. Gunnar wasn’t sure, if the tables were turned, whether he would’ve been quite so careful.

  He hopped onto the exposed rocks and lay down to lick at a couple of the deeper scratches. He’d give Axel a little while to calm down before he went back to the cabin. And to come up with some story for why he returned looking like he’d waged war with a big fucking cat.

  * * *

  Axel’s pain had hardly subsided by the time he reached the cabin. The cuts on his body were nothing compared to what he’d felt in his chest when he witnessed his bare-assed brother draped over Dakota.

  It hadn’t been more than thirty, maybe forty-five minutes, since Gunnar had read him the riot act about responsibility and celibacy, and there he was, fucking the very woman Axel had desired from the moment she waltzed into his store.

  Fuck. He collapsed onto the porch and bent to remove the snowshoes.

  Jealousy had never entered his vocabulary, until now. Despite their sparring over the years, he and his brothers had always been a close-knit family, all looking out for their little sister regardless of how much of a fit she gave them for it. Heidi had been the only female to ever garner the kind of protective, possessive instincts he seemed to be suffering all of a sudden.

  But somehow this felt different. Dakota wasn’t family. No relation at all. A stranger, and yet he was drawn to her.

  The door opened and Dakota dropped to her knees beside him. “Oh, my God!” She touched his torn jacket. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  He finished removing the snowshoes and avoided eye contact. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a few scratches.

  Nothing serious.”

  “What happened? Did Falke do this?”

  “Not his fault.” Elbows propped on his knees, he held his bowed head in the cradle of his palms. Shit.

  Gunnar wasn’t the problem, although he’d taken his frustrations out on him. No, the problem was the woman, or rather his reaction to her. Why did she ignite such strong passions in him? So strong, he’d willingly attack his own brother.

  What was he supposed to do now? Dakota would be gone by week’s end. His brother would still be family. He’d have to make amends somehow, even though the gut-deep wound to his pride remained raw.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He hated to lie to her, but she wouldn’t understand the truth even if he could tell her. “Falke had a run-in with a porcupine.” He snorted. Prickly was an apt description for how he felt.

  “A porcupine?”

  “Yeah, the quills can hurt like a son of a bitch, but he’ll be okay. He just doesn’t make a very good patient.” He laughed, though it lacked any real humor.

  “Maybe it’s my poor bedside manner.”

  “Let’s get you inside.”

  Because she shivered, he let her guide him to his feet and into the cabin where the warmth of an open flame surrounded him and thawed the last of his anger.

  How could he fault Gunnar for doing what he himself wanted to do? It was no secret among the brothers that he and Gunnar shared similar tastes in women. That was why he knew, deep down, that when the time finally came for them to claim a mate, he’d do so with Gunnar at his side.

  He shrugged off the ripped jacket and heard Dakota gasp.

  “A few scratches? Where’s the first aid kit? Some of those are deep. You need to get antibiotic ointment on them.”

  “Let me get cleaned up first.”

  He told her where she could find the kit in a kitchen cupboard while he excused himself to refill the water tank in the bathroom and take a quick, cold shower.

  After he finished, he found her waiting for him on the couch. Dressed in a fresh pair of pants, he padded barefoot over the rug, joined her on the sofa and sat still while she played nursemaid.

  “I thought you said Falke wasn’t dangerous.”

  “He’s not.” He met her gaze. “Don’t let this change your opinion of him. Like I said, it wasn’t his fault.”

  She nodded. “Did you get all of the quills out? Will he be all right? You don’t seem worried that he’s not come back.”

  “Yeah, he’s probably off somewhere licking his wounds. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

  A part of him felt he should be disgruntled over her interest in Gunnar, but another part, maybe a larger part, was pleased to see she cared.

  He winced when she dabbed at one of the deeper cuts in his side.

  “Sorry. This might sting a little.”

  No worse than I deserve. His chuckle was pure self-deprecation.

  “Oh, by the way, I found your shirt.”

  He hadn’t known he lost it. “Oh? Where?”

  She grinned. “It sort of wound up soaking in the wash bucket with the rest of the dirty dishes I never let you finish.”

  Axel glanced at the kitchen and forced a chuckle out in reply. So Gunnar had told the truth about her pouncing on him.

  “I took care of them while you were gone, though.

  The least I could do since I interrupted you.” She eyed him with an expectant expression, so he leaned over and gave her a quick, chaste kiss.

  “Thanks,” he said, “for the dishes…and the interruption.”

  Her smile showed he’d pleased her with his answer.

  The pair spent the rest of the day indoors, sharing lunch—hotdogs and marshmallows cooked over the flames in the fireplace—and exchanging stories about their pasts.

  “I can’t imagine having so many siblings,” Dakota said with a smile and a glance at her row of Scrabble letters.

  “And your parents?”

  She placed two tiles on the board, changing his word, love, into lovers, and wrote down her score.

  “Still in Boulder. They live in the same house I grew up in, although my old bedroom is my mother’s sewing room with a daybed for whenever I come to visit.”

  “You see ’em oft—” A scratch on the door had both of them turning their heads toward the sound. Axel pushed to his feet and went to let Gunnar inside, but he didn’t miss the soft sound Dakota made.

  “Is he…?”

  She knelt on the couch, looking over the back of it as the puma walked in with a slow and wary stride.

  Axel shut the door, and without a word—verbal or telepathic—he returned to their board game.

  “He looks so sad,” she whispered as she took up her original spot across from him on the rug. The cat moved around the couch and laid down close enough to warm up by the fire, but not close enough for anyone to touch him.

  Axel stared at her, surprised by her intuition. “He’ll be fine.” He noticed she didn’t rush to the cat’s aid with ointment in hand and suspected she was being cautious, but she didn’t seem fearful as it lay a few feet behind her. His gaze collided with Gunnar’s, and he gave his brother a small smile of reassurance.

  She gla
nced up. “Your turn.”

  He eyed the board, took a C from his stand and changed lovers to clovers.

  “What about your parents? Do they live in Leavenworth?”

  “Lost my mother a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. She really kept us all together. Having a big family can be trying at times. Brothers will fight, have disagreements, but I wouldn’t trade a one of them.” He held his brother’s gaze as he spoke. “When things are really rough, I know Gunnar and the others always have my back and will be there for me if I need them. I’d do the same for them.”

  Gunnar dipped his head and then laid it on his paws. Truce.

  “That’s great, Axel, having a support network like that.” She smiled, and then her grin turned cheeky.

  “But don’t think it’ll earn you any bonus points with me in Scrabble. I still intend to beat you.”

  He chuckled. “Bring it on.”

  The rest of the evening passed quickly, peacefully.

  After a dinner of venison steaks that they and the cat enjoyed, Dakota finally had the nerve to approach Gunnar, his minor injuries much less visible beneath all that fur.

  “You okay, big fella?” She knelt beside him and reached out to stroke his head.

  Gunnar shied away, glancing at Axel, obviously unsure whether any contact was permissible after what happened earlier.

  It’s okay.

  “It’s okay,” she said, echoing his thoughts. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Axel sighed. He hoped what she just said was true, but he feared the worse.

  Gunnar eased closer, dared to rub his moist nose against her palm and ducked his head to let her pet him.

  “That’s a good kitty,” she said with obvious pleasure. “I bet you won’t mess with that mean ol’ porcupine again, will you?”

  The sound Gunnar made, part snort, part chuckle, came out more like a cat’s sneeze.

  So, that was your story? Gunnar asked.

  With a grin, Axel shrugged. It’s somewhat true. I’ve been as prickly as one lately.

  Gunnar eyed him, swished his tail and began to purr beneath Dakota’s attentive hands. Yeah, I guess I see a resemblance now.