Bronx wasn’t sure which body part was going to melt-down from need first—his cock or his brain. Every minute he spent with his mate solidified their connection, and he hadn’t even formally claimed her yet. Fuck me seven ways to Sunday, if it gets better than this, I may not survive.
“Are you ready for me, Cheŕ? Is your pussy slick with cream, waiting for me to push in so deep, we’ll both lose our minds?” Her earthy scent surrounded him, and Bronx was glad he’d insisted she slept naked. Knowing his cock wouldn’t encounter any obstacle made her so tempting, he was struggling to control the urge to fuck her with all the urgency and passion boiling in his blood.
Fate not only chose a shifter’s mate, the Universe also bestowed a sexual attraction so strong, it was recognized as a rite of passage. Many packs sheltered newly mated couples or polys for several weeks after their mating, knowing they were completely and utterly focused on fucking. Meals were delivered to their suite, and pack betas covered for their Alpha until he’d worked it out of his system and could once again focus on pack business.
Bronx circled the tip of his cock around her opening, groaning as agonized pleasure ripped through him. Surprise sifted through the sexual fog clouding his brain when Kenya’s legs opened further, and his tip finally found its mark. Heat spread over the sensitive skin covering his cock head as he worked his way inside, his progress slowed by the vice-like grip of her vaginal muscles.
“Damn, Cheŕ, you are so tight. How long has it been for you?” He felt her entire body tense beneath him and knew he’d asked a question she didn’t want to answer. “It’s important for you to be honest with me, Kenya. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not a small man, and you’re not only petite, your pussy is as tight as a—” Before he could finish the sentence, he heard what sounded too much like a strangled sob. Pulling back so he could see her face, Bronx knew she’d never been taken by a man.
“I haven’t actually ever… well, I haven’t had real sex.” Real sex? As opposed to pretend sex? “That didn’t sound right, did it? What I mean is, I had a boyfriend who put his fingers inside me once. I wasn’t impressed. I kept reading about how great it would feel, but it hurt.”
Bronx was shocked by her admission. It was humbling to admit how pleased he was he’d be the first man to push himself into her slick heat. Damn, he was dying to fuck her every way imaginable, to hear her scream his name as her mind shattered from pleasure. It would be his great honor to erase the memory of discomfort some fumble-fingered kid.
“We’ll go slow. If you feel anything other than a pleasurable burn, tell me. I don’t want to tear the tender tissues of your vagina.” He didn’t want to hurt her, and he damned well didn’t want to do anything that would keep them from a repeat performance or two during the night.
“Yes, I promise. Can we skip some of the tutorial and get back to the learn as you go part?” Bronx felt himself smiling and couldn’t remember the last time a woman had amused him during sex. He’d only played at the club a few times during the past couple of years because his business had taken over his life. “I’m on the pill, and since I haven’t ever had… umm, you know.”
“Real sex?” Bronx tried to temper the amusement in his voice but knew he’d failed when he saw her eyes sparkle with mock annoyance.
“Are you laughing at me? Because it seems pretty rude to laugh at someone when your favorite appendage is prodding your target.”
“Point well-made, Cheŕ. It would be foolish to risk my cock’s safety for a cheap joke. I have plans—many, many plans—for my… what did you call it? Oh yeah, favorite appendage.” This time, barely visible laugh lines creased the corners of her eyes, and Bronx silently vowed to make certain those shallow wrinkles became more pronounced every day. He’d always believed the most beautiful women were those who smiled easily and often. Spotting happy couples walking into his dealerships was a skill he developed early. All he had to do was look for those who had character lines drawn deep around their eyes because those were the pairs who laughed together.
Bronx pushed the head of his cock in until the walls of her vagina tightened around him with a vice-like grip. “Relax, Cheŕ, let me in, I promise you’ll not regret it.” She gave a clipped nod as the energy surrounding her seemed to shift from guarded to desire. Bronx was determined to make certain this was a moment she would remember forever with fondness. He would take his time—no matter how excruciating it was to hold back. By the time he was balls deep in heaven, they were both slick with sweat.
“Feeling your body pulse around my cock is the sweetest torture. The walls of your channel trying to pull me deeper is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.” His tip was already pressed against her cervix, her sweet gasp every time he flexed all the proof he needed, she was attuned to the pleasure awaiting her.
“More. Please. Just because I haven’t done this doesn’t mean my body doesn’t want to chase it. It feels like a wave, building slowly, and the crest will be epic if I can just hang on long enough.”
Bronx was genuinely surprised by her insight. He’d never wanted to be a woman’s first because he’d understood the inherent responsibility and wanted to avoid having a woman other than his mate intimately bound to him. Everything was different with Kenya. Introducing her to the pleasure of submission was going to be the icing on a very sweet cake.
“I’m going to give you what you need.” He was thrilled to find out she needed something more to push her over the edge. Plain vanilla sex would leave her wanting. Thank the Great Goddess above for sending him a mate who needed his dominance as much as he needed her submission. Wrapping his hands around her wrists, Bronx pulled her hands over her head, guiding her fingers to the steel posts of his headboard. “Hold on. Don’t let go, or I’ll stop.” Her eyes widened as her slender fingers encircled the smooth metal.
“There are only three acceptable responses, Cheŕ, do you know what they are?” Without waiting for her to answer, Bronx forged ahead. “Yes, Sir is always preferable. Stating your answer in a simple, respectful way ensures there are fewer opportunities for misunderstandings. If you are unsure, saying yellow will let me know we need to pause so you can ask questions. Think of it as a highway caution light. If something is too much for you to bear, physically or emotionally, saying the word red will stop everything.”
“Forever?” It was a common newbie question and one he should have anticipated.
“No, Cheŕ. Everything stops until we’ve had time to discuss what went wrong and how we can avoid making a similar mistake in the future.” Every Dom he knew would delay another scene until the next day, but there wasn’t any reason to overwhelm her with details. “If you’re honest, in your answers and responses, there won’t be a reason for you to use a safe word. Do you understand? I know it was a crash course.” He’d be able to read her body’s responses if she didn’t deliberately mask them.
“Yes, Sir. I trust you. I’ve been studying you for months, and I’ve seen how you treat people.”
Bronx nodded, grateful for the gift of her trust. He looked at her hands and shook his head when he saw the death grip she had on the bed. Prying her fingers loose, he gently massaged them before putting them back in place.
“I don’t want you to cut off your circulation. I’ve asked you to hold on, so you stay in place because I want this to last, and Cheŕ, if you touch me, it will be over too soon.” Bronx was pleased to see her smile. He set a slow pace, giving her time to fully adjust to his size and the inevitable stretch as blood rushed to her sex, swelling the tissues. The extra time also let his cock ready itself for what he was sure was going to be an earth-shattering climax.
“Oh, my stars and garters, it’s so much better than I imagined.”
He agreed. Her body was already starting to quake around him, the intensity of her response pushing him closer and closer to his own release. Bronx wasn’t sure what pushed him more—his wolf’s physical desire for his mate or the sudden pressure in his chest from an emotion he’d never experienced with another woman during sex.
“I wanted to make slow, sensuous love to you, Kenya—show you how perfect it would be once we were mated—but you are shredding my control, Cheŕ.”
“Faster. Please. Sir.”
Any question he’d had about Kenya being able to embrace her inner submissive shattered into a splintered memory. Bronx was torn between giving her what she asked for and playing it safer than he knew was warranted. The sound of her soft whimpers as her body locked down around him snapped the last thread of his control.
“Fuck me. Ride it out, Cheŕ. Stay with me until you’ve milked the last drop.” He thrust until fire raced up his spine, exploding at the base of his skull, then rocketing back down to boil in his groin. The first spurts of cum felt like his testicles were being squeezed in a damned juicer. For a few seconds, Bronx wondered if he’d ever catch his breath. By the time he was spent, they were both panting for breath, and it was several seconds before he had it together enough to roll to his side. He wanted to stay buried inside her for as long as possible, every moment strengthening the bond between them. It wasn’t as good as claiming her, but it was still an important part of the process.
“I’ll get a warm cloth for you as soon as I’m sure my legs won’t crumple out from under me, Cheŕ.”
“I can clean myself up if you’ll just let me rest for a second or two.” She sucked in a deep breath, and for a few seconds, he thought she was going to pull away. Kenya finally let out a deep sigh as if she’d admitted a huge defeat. “Okay, it seems as though it’s going to be a little longer than I originally planned. My brain doesn’t seem to be speaking to my muscles at the moment.” As amused as he was by her observation, he wasn’t going to change his plan.
“Part of my privilege and responsibility as your Dom and mate is to see to your comfort and safety. Don’t think for a minute, I intend to give up the opportunity to pamper you.” He understood her reluctance. She’d been on her own for a long time—hell, if he had to guess, he’d put his money on her taking on the role of parent for her mother more often than it was the other way around. Nothing he’d heard or read indicated Lisa Star had ever been a candidate for mother of the year.
Pulling her close once again and wrapping her in his embrace, Bronx sent up a silent prayer of gratitude he’d finally found her—and for the bulletproof glass his family insisted he install when he’d built his home. The questions about their parents’ accident had never been answered, and since the rumor mill continued to churn, despite the years that had passed, it hadn’t seemed extreme.
The youngest of his siblings had been the only one who gave Austin a hard time about security. Paris tried to evade her oldest brother’s security net while she was in college, but it hadn’t worked. Austin hadn’t been the only one responsible for keeping tabs on the little hellion, but he’d been the one she blamed. Paris’s rebellion of choice was speeding, and the irony of her marrying a sheriff, who she met when he’d pulled her over for speeding, wasn’t lost on anyone. As far as Austin was concerned, it was a sweet bit of karma, and knowing the man was a strict Dom was an added bonus. His position might help keep Paris in line, but no one believed she would ever be the poster child for safe driving.
By the time he returned to the bed, Kenya was fast asleep. She barely stirred as he wiped his seed from the inside of her thighs and the swollen folds of her sex. Patting the tender tissues dry, Bronx smiled to himself, knowing he’d marked her in a way no other man ever could. Settling next to her, Bronx pulled his phone from the nightstand and started reading the file Israel sent earlier. The more he read, the more suspicious he became. There were too many similarities between Kenya’s story and Israel’s wife, Bristol’s. Small details echoed of familiarity, making the hair on the back of Bronx’s neck stand on end.
It’s damned unsettling, isn’t it? If you add in what we know about Denali and Vienna, things get even dicier. Bronx was surprised to see the text pop up at the top of his phone’s small screen. Israel didn’t usually bother messaging when he could speak telepathically. I was afraid I’d disturb your sleeping mate. She seemed sensitive to the electrical energy… this seemed safer. Bronx didn’t believe in coincidence and knew his brother was an even bigger skeptic.
There are too many similarities for it to be chance. I assume you’ve already forwarded this to everyone who’ll be at the meeting at Prairie Winds. It was a statement rather than a question, but he still wanted his brother’s assurance others would have time to run their own background checks. It would be unlike Israel to miss something, but Bronx wasn’t willing to take a chance, and he knew Israel would enlist every available resource when it came to Bristol’s safety.
Austin sent a message to the Council of Magic. He believes this is a larger issue than any of us realize, and I’ve learned to trust his intuition. A shudder of worry worked its way up Bronx spine.
Where is Cat? For some reason, his sister’s face flashed through his mind. He wasn’t sure it meant anything, but at this point, he didn’t want to take any chances.
On a plane. She’s looking for Cooper. Cam has people shadowing her, and no, she doesn’t know. She’ll be pissed as hell when she figures it out. My mate is home. Don’t be late for the meeting.
Bronx smiled at the screen as it faded to black. There wasn’t any reason to say goodbye. Israel was already gone, his attention now completely centered on Bristol—as it should be. Bronx couldn’t remember ever seeing his brother as happy as he’d been since Dr. Bristol Banks came into his life.
Setting his phone aside, Bronx pulled Kenya close and waited for their heartbeats to synchronize. He’d read how settling it was when mate’s bodies were aligned as one, but he hadn’t been fully prepared for the sense of peace he felt with her in his arms. When her breathing slowly settled into the same restful rhythm of his own, Bronx let himself drift into a light sleep. Until he was certain she was safe, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep soundly.
Welcome to my world. His brother’s words drifted lightly through his mind, the last thing he remembered before sleep claimed him.