MacKinnon tried to shut out the images in his head as he sat on the end of the bed, fending off sleep. It wasn’t images of his past that tormented him now. It was images of Hella with the incubi. She had been gone hours, and his imagination had been running wild. Were the other three incubi he could sense in a room somewhere below him as handsome as the one called Fenix?
He pushed to his feet, paced to the dressing table, and stared at his reflection. Compared with the incubus, his looks were lacking. Fenix had an elegant bone structure and was classically handsome, possessed the sort of looks many women desired in a male and Hollywood would turn into a star.
MacKinnon, however, was a little too harsh in the brow and jaw, and his nose had a kink in it from a brawl as a pup. Even his eyebrows weren’t as refined as the incubus’s.
Lightning struck, making the lamps flicker again and casting bright light across his face that threw half of it into shadow and made him look like a monster as his eyes glowed gold.
He dreaded to think how handsome the others in the house were. What if they were more handsome than Fenix?
Images popped into his head of Hella in compromising positions with the males, the cries that left her lips as wild and sweet as the sounds she had made when he had been inside her.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and banished them, before his mood took a darker turn and he surrendered to it.
He heaved a long sigh, went to the bed, and sank back onto the end of it.
Being able to hear them talking wasn’t helping his mood. He had tried tuning them out, but had ended up tuning into them instead, curious as to what they were saying to each other. Apparently, the answer to that was things he didn’t want to hear.
The sensible part of him knew she was only teasing because she had that tone to her voice, the one he had heard her use a few times now, occasionally to his delight, but the rest of him grew agitated as he caught her words.
“You’re almost as handsome as Fenix. This would have been a dream come true once if you all weren’t incubi.”
Kin launched to his feet and growled at the wooden floor, rage blasting through his veins to have a red veil descending. His heart thundered as his wolf side snarled and bashed against the cage of his human form, wanting out, and for once he and his instincts were on the same page.
Violence.
He craved violence.
If Hella wanted to keep him locked in this room, if she wanted to flirt with other men, then she would just have to deal with the consequences of her actions. He stormed to the dresser, gripped it with both hands and hefted it into the air on a howl. He twisted and hurled it clear across the room, making a huge dent in the pale blue plaster. The drawers fell out as it dropped to the floor and he kicked off, was across the room in a heartbeat to snag one and smash it on his knee. He tore another two apart with his bare hands, saliva rolling down his fangs as he growled and unleashed his fury on it. When it was nothing more than tinder fit for the fireplace, he grabbed a wardrobe and gave it the same treatment.
His fingers stung, the scent of blood heavy in the air as he panted and stalked across the room to rip into another set of drawers. He grabbed the mirror from the top of them and pivoted, smashing it into the wall, and grunted as some of the glass bounced back and hit him, cutting into his hands. He didn’t care.
Black fur rippled over his skin as he snarled and destroyed a second wardrobe and a chair, hurling both at the window. They bounced back off the spell Hella had placed on the room, denying him the satisfying sound of glass smashing, and his gaze flicked to her carpet bag.
It had glass in it.
It contained everything she loved.
MacKinnon stalked towards it.
Stilled when he sensed Hella close to him and her intoxicating scent filled his lungs. His wolf calmed and he focused on her, narrowing the world down to her where she stood on the other side of the door.
It opened to reveal her.
Her pretty mask of indifference fell away the moment she looked at him, her green eyes widening as they took him in and then the room. He breathed hard, pulling her scent deep into his lungs, savouring it and the fire it lit in his veins, the need that built with each second that ticked past. Her eyes revealed everything to him, told him a thousand things.
Told him that he wasn’t alone.
He stared at her, silently stalking his prey as a need rolled through him.
A hunger to possess her.
She was his.
Every fibre of his being howled that at him.
She tipped her chin up. The action was slight, but he noticed it, together with the hardening of her eyes that warned him she wanted to be in control again. Not this time. He wouldn’t hurt her, but he would have her. He could feel her need, knew her desires better than she did in that moment as his instincts whispered what she wanted.
She wanted to be possessed by him.
The destruction he had wrought because she had dared to flirt with another man had excited her, had brought her running back to him, and try as she might to pretend she didn’t desire him, it was right there in her eyes for him to see.
He turned to face her, moving slowly so he didn’t spook his prey, and hid nothing from her as he stared into her eyes. He wanted her. Plain and simple. He needed her and he was going to have her. He was going to satisfy her needs and please his female. His fated one.
And once she was sated, they would be having a talk about her bad habit of restraining him.
Her pulse drummed a fast rhythm in the side of her neck, attempting to lure his gaze there. He kept it locked with hers instead, waiting to see how she would react to the possessiveness of his gaze.
Her pupils dilated, devouring the emerald of her irises.
Rose climbed her cheeks.
“Kin—”
She didn’t get to say whatever it was she had wanted to tell him. The sound of her saying his name, the one he wanted to hear on her lips, broke the tether on his restraint and he sprang at her.
He gathered her into his arms, banding them tightly around her, and pinned her to the wall near the door as he claimed her lips, swallowing her shocked gasp, and the moan that followed it.
Her hands flew to his shoulders and rather than shoving him away, she frantically clutched at his muscles, dragging him closer. His wicked wee witch. She was wild as she tore at his shirt, pulling it up over his head, breaking the kiss for just long enough for the material to pass between them. The moment his chest was bare, her hands were roaming all over it, making him as crazed as she was.
Or maybe not even close.
She raked nails down his stomach and tackled his jeans, had his shaft freed in less than a few seconds. She worked it with her hand, maddening him, and he kissed her harder, his pulse skyrocketing.
On a low growl, Kin reached between them and tore her panties away.
She tensed against him, another gasp bursting from her lips, one that he turned into a moan again as he stroked her plush petals. He joined her, groaning as he felt how wet she was, how ready she was to accept him.
Her left hand gripped his bare shoulder and she pulled herself up, wrapped her legs around his hips and eagerly drew him to her. He fisted his cock again and then gave her what she wanted, sliding the broad head down through her folds to breach her. Gods. His breath hitched as he nudged inside her, his heart going wild as her heat scorched him and his instincts roared up on him, attempting to steal control and make him assert his dominance.
He denied them, easing into her instead, making her take every inch of him and showing her what she did to him. He was crazed for her, craved her like he had no other, and couldn’t get enough of her. She tunnelled her fingers into his hair, twisting the dark lengths around them, and dragged his head down to hers. Her lips claimed his, her kiss fierce and demanding, and he groaned as he heard the silent order in it.
She didn’t want gentle.
She didn’t need him to be soft and tender.
She wanted wild and passionate, and gods, he could do that.
Kin held her hips in a fierce grip, unable to resist digging his short claws in to anchor himself to her as he withdrew and plunged back in. A moan burst from her lips, washing over his, and she pressed her fingertips into his flesh, scoring his scalp and clinging to his shoulder as she began to work her body against him.
Riding him.
He growled and pinned her to the wall, let go of the reins and let his desire take the helm. He wanted to possess this female. He wanted to stamp his mark on her and ruin her to all others, so she would only ever want him. No other male would ever satisfy her in the way he could.
On a wicked snarl, he pressed his claws deep into her hips and pumped her harder, faster, curling his hips as he held her in place, taking her mouth with the same ferocity as he took her body.
“Kin,” she cried and arched towards him, desperately clutched at his head and his shoulder, a frantic little thing as she rocked on him.
His female needed more.
He gave it to her, driving her into the wall, rattling it with the force of his thrusts, a slave to how good she made him feel and his desire to please her. He dropped his head to her shoulder and pressed his forehead against it as he bent his knees so he could go deeper, leaving no part of her untouched. She murmured his name in his ear, chanting it like a prayer, urging him on. The need to possess her rose within him, had him turning his face towards her throat and his gaze locking onto her nape. His fangs ached and he fought his instincts, struggled to focus on satisfying her and himself.
One day.
One day she would be so crazy about him, so in love with him, that she wouldn’t deny his claiming bite.
He fantasised about it as he rocked into her, his breaths coming faster, his shaft thickening as release coiled at the base of it.
Hella threw her head back and yelled his name as her body kicked against his, as she clenched and unclenched him, her bliss trickling into him through their growing bond. He groaned and buried his face in her shoulder again, pressing his forehead hard against her as his balls tightened. He tried to keep going, wanted to give her another release before he found his own, but the way she had called his name and how she clung to him as she trembled pulled him over the edge with her. He loosed a possessive growl and bit down on his lower lip as he plunged into her, thrusting to the hilt, and spilled, his cock throbbing and kicking with each jet that rocked him.
Kin clung to her, tasting his own blood, lost in a haze as he continued to spill, as his climax stretched out into the longest one he had ever experienced. She slowly relaxed against him, her body going lax as she exhaled softly. He held her on him, still pulsing, each one sending an aftershock of pleasure through him.
When she gently stroked the back of his head, teasing his hair with her fingertips, he sighed and closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her and held her.
And realised he needed more of this.
He needed more of this calm and this tenderness, wanted to savour it because it was new to him. A lover had never stroked and petted him the way Hella did, her touch like magic, soothing his ragged emotions and centring him.
“Kin,” she whispered, breath teasing his ear. “I’m sorry.”
He released his lower lip and his fangs receded. “What for?”
“Everything,” she murmured.
And stole his heart.
“I’m not good at this.” She chuckled. “Which is an understatement. This is… this is a bit new.”
He heard something else. It was a bit frightening. She was used to being in control of her life and he kept trying to take it from her. No more. She was right and she owned him. She owned all of him. He would do anything for her.
Almost anything.
He would never let her go.
He turned with her and she tensed.
“Where are we going?” She pressed her hands to his shoulders and pushed him back.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers and loved how her eyes sparkled with stars. He had done that.
“To the bed. To rest. I need to hold you.” He half-expected her to deny him, but she relaxed and didn’t protest. Because she wanted to be held by him?
Her left hand lifted from his shoulder and she stroked it across his lower lip, her gaze growing concerned. “What happened here?”
He looked away from her, purely because he needed to be focused on not tripping over the broken furniture on his way to the bed. It had nothing to do with how awkward he felt as he grumbled the answer to her question.
“I needed to bite you, so I bit myself instead.” And it hadn’t been at all satisfying, but it had kept his fangs busy and had stopped him from crossing a line.
“Oh.” Her eyebrows rose as he flicked a glance at her and he noted that she kept stroking his lower lip.
Maddening him.
He drew the covers back on the bed, set her down on her feet on the mattress, and stepped back from her. Even standing on the mattress she was only a head taller than him. His petite witch.
He reached for the ribbons on her corset.
She tensed and both hands came up as her gaze dropped to her chest. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing you. I want you to be comfortable.” He wanted her naked.
She didn’t seem to mind, lowered her hands and let him have his way. Or maybe she wanted to watch him suffer. His fingers were too big for the delicate lacing and he ended up getting one of the fine ribbons tangled with another.
He huffed and his claws extended.
Hella snatched his wrist. Not to stop him, but to guide his hand to her side.
Where there was a damned zipper.
She smiled wickedly at him and he mock-scowled at her, even as he savoured her amusement.
“How long were you going to let me struggle to get you out of this damned thing?” He eased the zipper down, anticipation curling through him to heat his blood as his gaze locked on the strip of creamy flesh he slowly exposed.
She shrugged. “About as long as I did. I don’t take violence towards my possessions very well. The moment the claws came out, it was game over.”
It was a good job she had arrived before he had gone to town on her carpet bag then. He could only imagine how furious she would have been had she found all her possessions destroyed.
He was tempted to quip about how he didn’t take violence towards his possessions very well either, but the filter he had been working on caught it before it left his lips. Another good thing. At least he was learning to watch his mouth. Speaking of her as a possession, even in a playful way as it would have been, would end with him castrated and alone.
He bit back a groan as he peeled her corset away to reveal her breasts. She must have noticed his pained expression, because another smile lit up her face and she tormented him further by bending to shimmy her skirt down her legs. She reached out and gripped his right forearm as she tackled her boots, steadying herself.
And warming him.
He gazed at her hand on his arm, a sign of trust and maybe a little dependence that he enjoyed.
When she cast her boots aside and reached for her stockings, he snared her hands and stopped her.
“Leave them.” His voice had gone low, gravelly, and his blood burned as he gazed at her, the thought of her silky stockings brushing his bare legs as she lay with him rousing his desire.
She rolled her eyes and straightened to stand before him in all her glory, a temptress that beckoned him to her, had him wanting to gather her in his arms and make love to her this time.
And then she flopped onto the bed, pulled the covers over herself to steal herself from view, and patted the spot beside her when he didn’t move.
“Come on. Strip and hop in.” She made it sound as if this wasn’t a big moment for them.
It felt monumental to him.
He hadn’t slept beside a female since becoming alpha of his pack. Before then, his relationships had been few and far between, and had never lasted long. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept with a female.
Kin rounded the bed to the other side and stripped off, tackling the easy part. Or what should have been easy.
The way Hella’s gaze tracked his hands, following their every move, and her little gasp when he shoved his trousers down his hips and his length sprang free, had his blood heating further, until his veins were an inferno and he couldn’t keep his mind off her curves and how she was almost bare beneath the covers.
He kicked off his boots and his jeans, and climbed into bed beside her, settling on his back.
Finding it strangely comforting to be beside her like this.
Hella made it even better by shuffling towards him and slinging her right leg over his, teasing him with the softness of her stockings. Her fingers traversed his chest and she angled her head back, her eyes coming up to lock on his face.
He slid his gaze to meet hers.
And gods, this was comfortable.
His wolf settled down, curling up in a contented way as she feathered her fingers across his flesh and gazed at him, a sparkle in her eyes that bewitched him. Her touch was like magic, calmed and eased the tension from him, until he felt more relaxed than he had ever been.
A moment had never been so perfect.
She proved him wrong about that by resting her cheek on his chest.
Now it was perfect.
He eased his arm around her and she didn’t protest. In fact, she snuggled closer as he stroked his fingers up and down her arm.
When she continued running her fingers over his chest, he looked down at it, curious about what she was doing. Her delicate fingertips stroked the line of a scar that cut from his left shoulder to where her chin rested on his right pectoral.
She tilted her head back again, her eyes soft but laced with curiosity, and a dash of hope.
Her finger unerringly followed the silvery streak across his chest again.
And her voice was softer, gentler than he had ever heard it, telling him how much she wanted to know the answer to her question and how she feared he would be upset about her asking it.
“How did you get these scars?”