Standing under the gently cascading water of Bronx’s outdoor shower, Kenya stretched her arms above her head and leaned side to side, hoping to loosen some of the tension she’d been feeling since her conversation with Audric Stafford. Bronx was right, there was something about showering outside that set her spirit free. It was humbling to learn so much of what she’d been told was a half-truth at best. Hell, a lot of it was patently false.
Hearing her mother had stolen the medallion from her father and his family made her question everything her mom had ever told her. One of the hard lessons Kenya learned growing up was lying was a slippery slope—the first led to a second and a third. Lies were like cockroaches—if you discovered one, there were a hundred more lurking behind the walls.
“I don’t even want to know how you’ve gone from enjoying the freedom of being naked outside to thinking about cockroaches.” Kenya squeaked in surprise when her mate’s words wafted over the shell of her ear. When she tried to turn, her feet slipped on the wet tile, but he kept her from falling, wrapping his arms around her. Kenya felt her body respond to his naked warmth pressed against her back. “You spend too much time thinking and not enough time feeling, mate.”
Bronx knew his siblings would be the first to call him out for his hypocrisy. He’d been so focused on his career, he’d missed more than one family function. It wasn’t easy to admit, but he’d heard the same comment from several of the women he’d dated over the years. None of them were willing to be relegated to a distant second in his life, and he hadn’t blamed them.
“I was thinking about all the lies my mom told me. Why didn’t she tell me the truth? At the very least, she should have leveled with me when she gave me the amulet. It seems like she set me up to fail.”
“Maybe, or perhaps she knew you were too bright to sit back and wait for the other piece of the artifact to come to you. Our mothers were friends, so I’m sure she knew you would be safe as soon as you connected with my family.” Bronx wasn’t completely convinced he was right, but he hated knowing Kenya’s memory of her mother would be forever tainted by deception.
“Thank you for that… I’m still not sure how I feel about all the deception, but I can let some of the emotion go, knowing she didn’t simply throw me to the wolves. Oh, crap on a cracker, talk about stepping in it.” She shook her head at her own careless use of words as Bronx chuckled softly. Taking a deep breath, she let herself relax more into Bronx’s hold and felt his cock stir against her. “Audric asked me to wait until I have all the information before I pass judgment, and I know I promised I would, but it’s really hard… Oh, my heavens.”
“Cheŕ, you said the magic word. It is indeed hard. Lean forward, put your palms on the wall with your fingers splayed.” She didn’t hesitate, knowing the distraction was going to be worth the effort. “Spread your legs as far apart as you can, mate. Yes, perfect. Now, turn your toes in and push that beautiful ass out for me.” She expected him to push into her. Instead, he smoothed his soap and slickened hands up her legs. By the time his hands reached her hips, the bubbles had swirled their way down the drain, leaving his fingers free of soap as he moved them to the inside of her thighs.
Using his thumbs, Bronx spread the soft globes of her ass cheeks, baring her rear hole to his view. Tracing the pad of one finger around the tight muscle guarding another slice of heaven, he smiled when she moaned.
“I’m looking forward to claiming your ass, Kenya.”
“I haven’t ever… I don’t think you will fit… too big.” Her head was swimming, her brain slowly shutting out anything resembling reason as it was taken over by white-hot desire, burning her from the inside out. She’d just started to believe Bronx was her fated mate when Audric’s earlier revelations fanned the spark of self-doubt, always lurking just below the surface.
Inside, she was still the chubby little girl other kids loved teasing by fooling her into thinking one of the most popular girls in school was her friend. Kenya remembered the humiliation as though it was yesterday. She’d been so excited, telling her mother about all the things she and her new best friend were going to do together. Then she’d gone to school earlier than usual the next day, excited to spend time with her new friend. Instead of a chance to chat with her new friend, she overheard the girl laughing with her ‘group’ about how easy it had been to dupe the fat girl with the ratty clothes. She’d only been nine or ten years old, but it was a lesson Kenya had never forgotten.
“I’m going to keep telling you until you believe me—fate never makes a mistake. If you don’t stop letting your mind wander into minefields, I’m going to turn this luscious ass scarlet, and it won’t be the erotic spanking I think you’d enjoy.” Enjoy? Is he nuts? Why would anyone enjoy being beaten? “Spanked, not beaten, Cheŕ. You have a lot to learn about dominance and submission. I’ll be patient during the learning curve, but I want you to keep an open mind as you learn.”
“As I was walking out to meet Tobi and Gracie, I read a large poster on the wall that mentioned safe words.” It was easier for her to talk about things when he wasn’t staring into the very depths of her soul. Damn, the man had the most intense gaze she’d ever encountered. Of course, that wasn’t saying much since the one thing she missed the most living on the street was having people look her in the eye. It was sad the way people look through you as if you weren’t there.
“Prairie Winds is part of a network of clubs, and their reputation for safety is second to none. Kent and Kyle are devoted to the safety of every member and guest, but they are particularly focused on the submissives. Every Dominant in the club is charged with ensuring the absolute safety of every submissive. If a sub says the word red, you’ll see people come out of the woodwork to make certain the scene stops. If the sub doesn’t feel safe or comfortable talking things through with the Dom, there are several other options available. I’ve even seen members of the club’s security team drive subs home if there was any doubt about their safety.”
“If the Wests are Doms, why didn’t they marry a submissive? Tobi and Gracie are so successful, I can’t imagine them letting anyone boss them around.” It was a question she’d been struggling with since she’d met the two women. Bronx had been sliding his fingers through her slick folds, ratcheting up her desire so fast, she was sure this would be the last coherent question she would be able to form before her brained switched off. Hell, at this point, I’ll be lucky if I can make heads or tails from his answer.
“It takes a strong woman to admit what she needs. Tobi and Gracie are both subs. I think you are confusing sexual submission with being a doormat. I assure you the subs at Prairie Winds are some of the strongest women you’ll ever meet.” His words started floating around the room in random patterns, making them impossible to grasp. She heard him chuckle as he pressed the tip of his cock against her opening. “Cheŕ, you are a wonder. Your mind is a mystery, I’m looking forward to spending the rest of our lives exploring.”
Kenya’s body was miles ahead of her mind when it came to her sexual response to Bronx. The flash of heat from the stretch of the tender tissues of her vagina strained in their attempt to accommodate his girth. Why does he feel even bigger now? Is that even possible? I probably should have paid closer attention during that damned freshman human sexuality class. If he responded, she didn’t hear it because every bit of her focus was centered on the incredible sensation of Bronx thrusting himself as deep into her pussy as he could go. The rigid ring of his corona pressed against her G-spot with each pass, making her legs tremble, her heart threatening to vibrate out of her chest as her orgasm thundered through her.
“Holy fuck. So hot. Wet, silken heat washing over my cock, testing every bit of my control—you are a gift from Freya. Goddess above, your vice grip on me is heaven and hell, two sides of the same coin and more than I could have ever hoped for.” Kenya recognized the name. Freya was magic’s answer to Aphrodite and Isis. Hearing Bronx refer to her as a gift from a deity as revered as Freya made Kenya’s heart clench in response. As a student of magical history, she understood the significance of his comparison and couldn’t imagine a bigger compliment.
It took Kenya several minutes to become cognizant enough to notice Bronx was still blanketing her back. She welcomed his body heat radiating over her sweat-cooled back. With one arm wrapped around her torso, anchoring her to his chest, Kenya didn’t know how he had the strength to hold himself up with one arm.
Reading about the physical strength and speed of shifters hadn’t prepared her for the reality. Bronx had promised her she’d experience many of the physical benefits after he claimed her, but so far, the most noticeable change was her hearing. It had already improved exponentially, almost to the point of being overwhelming. She was relieved when the enhancement slowed to a more manageable level. She was starting to understand why people were so stressed all the time—damn, the world surrounding them was loud and annoying.