I blow out a breath. My lion still wants to kill someone.
“Nash.” Denali puts a hand on my back, and some of the tension ebbs away. “It’s all right. Really. I like your crazy friends.”
Friends. I don’t really consider them that, but I suppose they are. The last time I called men friends they all got killed. I guess I haven’t chosen to be close to anyone since then.
These goofballs have been worming themselves into my life despite my best efforts to keep them out.
Crazy fucks.
DENALI
WHEN I COME out from putting Nolan to sleep, Nash is on the prowl, moving softly around the cottage, looking through windows without moving the shades.
I should be scared to know he truly believes we’re in danger. It’s hard to feel scared with such a vigilant protector, though.
I have this crazy desire to ease his tension, too. Which is weird, because I’m supposed to be keeping him at a distance. I guess my lioness don’t understand that part. She sees him as mate. Mine to soothe. To satisfy. To invite to bed.
Aw, shit. I’m totally going to invite him into my bed.
Yeah, him sleeping on the couch only lasted one night. Well, I can’t help it. All last night I thought about what it’d be like to have him sleeping beside me. Would he hold me against his chest like he did that night in the cell?
Would sleeping to the sound of his beating heart be as comforting as I imagine it will be?
I walk up beside him and wrap my arms around his waist. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He turns and buries a hand in my hair, lifts my face to his. “Sorry we never got dinner.”
I smile up at him. “I got what I needed.”
“Which is?”
“Time alone with you.”
Pain flickers over his face, as if he thinks he fucked up that time. Honestly, knowing he has PTSD isn’t a deterrent for me. I think I’d be more worried about him and his character if he didn’t. If I’d had any doubts that he was as damaged as I was by Data-X, they’re completely gone. He may have joined voluntarily, but he was a tortured prisoner same as I was.
His fear of his lion does cause me some worry, though. You can’t repress such a powerful animal. It’s probably why his lion needs to fight when he finally lets it out. Or wait-does he fight in lion form?
I make a mental note to check out one of his fights. I need to see what this male does for a living, as sordid as it may be.
Nash leans his forehead against mine and drags a knuckle down my breastbone until he reaches my cleavage. “This dress is making my pants too tight.”
The laugh that comes out of my lips sounds husky. “Oh yeah?”
He pinches one nipple, hard. Like the other times we’ve had sex, I’m thrilled by his aggression. It’s the one place he doesn’t hold back with me. I’m always slightly shocked by it, in a way that goes straight to my core. “Yeah.”
“Wanna get it off me?”
A low, leonine growl erupts from his throat.
I laugh and turn, taking off running for my bedroom.
It takes him a half-second to follow, the loud slam of his boots ringing on the simple pine planks of the floor. He lets me get all the way to the bedroom before he catches me up by the waist. His mouth is at my neck, teeth grazing my skin.
“Ran from me, did you?” His voice is deep, dark with promise.
Oh God, I hope he wants to punish me again.
“I-is there a consequence for that?” I sound breathless.
He laughs darkly. “Damn straight there is.” He makes a big show out of unbuckling his belt and drawing it out of the loops.
I swallow, thinking I’ve bit off more than I can chew, but he winds it around my wrists, cinching with the buckle and pulling it high over my head. My arms lift like a marionette’s.
He tosses the end of the belt over the top of the door and shuts the door, trapping it there. I’m now strung up to the door. “Mmm.” He steps back and eyeballs me, approvingly. “Now that’s a sight I’ve been fantasizing about all night.” He steps forward and yanks open the sides of my wrap around dress, exposing my white lace bra. “Except more like this.” He pulls back again and gives his cock a squeeze through his pants.
Even though the buckle pokes into my wrist a bit, I let myself stretch and hang from the belt, like I’m trying to escape.
Nash moves in and slams me back against the door, his mouth on mine. “Trying to escape me, my queen?”
“Mmmf,” is all I can say, because he claims my mouth again as soon as he speaks. “Beautiful, beautiful lioness.”
One of his hands works into my bra as the other grabs my ass. I lift one leg to wrap around his waist, snapping my hips to meet his slow thrusts. He pinches and rolls my nipple, a maddening torture that turns my pussy wet. I sway against the hold of the belt, my knees turning weak. He drags his mouth down my neck at the same time he unties the wrap to my dress, letting it swing open. He has the full view of my white lace bra and panties, which set off my mocha skin. I went out and bought them this afternoon just for our date.
“Fuck, Denali,” Nash growls. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His eyes glow yellow. Mine have probably turned grey-blue. Nash wraps a fist in my curls and holds my head captive for another savage kiss. As his lips twist over mine, he shoves both cups of my bra down and mauls my breasts. I wrap both legs around his waist and he bites my lower lip, holding it between his teeth and pulling. “I’m gonna fuck you right up against this door, Denali. And you’d better hold your screams in, because if you wake up the boy, I’m not going to let you come.”
“Let me come?” I let out an indignant laugh.