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  • Alpha Knows Best: Second Chance Shifter Romance (Southern Shifters Book 3) Page 4

Alpha Knows Best: Second Chance Shifter Romance (Southern Shifters Book 3) Read online

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  She’d about convinced herself a no strings day of sex would be just what they needed when he stepped them through the front door and pushed her against the wall, his hips grinding into the soft denim covered flesh between her thighs.

  A low moan sounded in her throat at the contact. His stiff erection pressed right up against… “Oohhh.” She pulsed and swelled when he applied pressure in just the right spot. She wriggled her hips against him feeling the long awaited pleasure she’d held out from for so long.

  Malcolm pushed her harder against the wall, effectively stilling her hips. “Not yet, baby. Not until I’m inside you. I want to feel every pulse and stroke of your hot pussy wrapped around my dick when you come,” he growled into her ear.

  Whimpers and incoherent babble fell from her lips as she clawed at his shirt, shredding it and sending strips of cloth flying around the room. With her hands on his bare skin, she reached for one of his flat, brown nipples and slowly scraped over it with a claw, leaving a red mark behind.

  “Little hellcat, aren’t you?” He ground his hips almost painfully against hers, ratcheting up the heat and need flaring between them. “That’s okay because you’re my hellcat from now on and I better not ever see you allowing a man to lay hands on you or so help me I will kill him. No questions asked.”

  She snarled at his words, digging the sharp tips of her claws into the taut flesh over his pecs. Her animal burst free. There would be no tempering her and she loved the possessiveness of his demands. Couldn’t get enough of them.

  He let go of her ass and pushed her legs to the floor until she stood on her own two very shaky limbs. With smooth, practiced moves, he had her pants undone and down around her ankles before she could blink an eye.

  “Lift.” She obeyed, raising her feet one at a time from the confinement of her jeans. When she stood only in her tiny black panties and top, he got down on his knees so that his face was even with her heated pussy. Her heart pounded so fast she heard nothing but its frantic beat. With his sharp teeth, he grabbed at the thin fabric protecting her and ripped it from her body, his nose flaring when he caught her scent.

  Seconds later, hot air brushed across her folds and then paused. Waiting. Each second of anticipation drove her closer to crazy. “Malcolm, please.” Her voice shook with each word. Not that she cared. All that mattered was getting him inside her, filling her, fucking her.

  “When I say so, Chey. That’s something you’ll have to learn. Although I enjoy the begging, baby, so feel free, but don’t expect to always get what you want.” His hands nudged her legs apart before his fingers explored her slick outer lips. “Damn woman, are you always this wet or is this just for me?”

  A strangled cry fell from her lips when a thumb glanced across her sensitive nub. “Oh, and very responsive too… You and I are going to have so much fun.” He laughed. “Are you ready, Chey?”

  She bit her lip and nodded, looking down in time to watch his tongue spear her sex, sliding through the folds and lapping at the moisture he’d created by just touching her. Her hands grasped for something to hold onto, finally latching onto his thick, wavy hair. She shot from the wall when he pressed his hot tongue to her, the sensation more than she could bear.

  Malcolm’s fingers and tongue fell away and she wanted to cry. Tears sprang to her eyes as he stood to his full height just a couple of inches above her own. Arms shot out and captured her around the waist, pulling her close before lifting her again with his palms planted firmly on her ass for balance. This time she didn’t need to be told to wrap her legs around him; she instinctively knew what he wanted. Her feet locked around him left her open and settled in just the right position where his cock nudged against her wetness.

  Chey wrapped her hands around Malcolm’s neck, loving the smooth skin with a baby fine layer of hair that rubbed against her like silk. Magnetically drawn to his mouth, she slipped her tongue through his lips to explore and devour. Her mind opened to every sensation and tingle he created with the touch of his tongue, his hands and especially his erection pushing slowly through her folds. Her breath caught in her throat as he stretched her, almost to the point where she wasn’t sure if she could take him.

  She’d remembered him as well endowed but damn sure didn’t remember him this big—this hard. Fissures of excitement skated up her spine, making her head tingle. She kissed him harder until she thought she might lose her mind waiting for him to enter her fully. It had been so long since she’d felt like this, and, to her shame, more than a little part of her was delighted to feel excited again. Later she might have to pull her guilt out and reexamine it—but not now. Now she focused on the swollen tip of Malcolm stroking her, on the verge of taking her.

  Chey’s tongue stroked his mouth with short quick bursts that heated his blood and sent his mind careening with pleasure. He held his body rigid while he struggled to maintain control. But God help him, touching her naked skin and tasting her delicious flesh had been his undoing. The more she struggled against him, the harder his animal fought to break free, but he wouldn’t be gentle or slow. Not with the heat of her core sucking at his dick and her sweet little mouth devouring him like a starved woman.

  Sharp canines sank into his bottom lip and her tongue swiped at the drops of blood she’d produced. The sweet and coppery scent along with her reaction to it broke the animal free. He pressed her body tight against the wall and slammed into her snug channel, burying himself to the hilt. She tore her mouth from his and let loose a wail of pleasure that would carry for miles. The lush, sensual sound like music to his ears. He hoped every creature known to mankind heard her. Nothing would please him more than to declare to everyone he’d claimed his mate.

  Malcolm’s blood boiled. He picked up speed as he thrust into her, each time adding a little more force. The snug fit felt like a tight fist squeezing him, driving him wild, as did the knowledge of a perfect fit when he was inside her. He didn’t know how he would get enough of her. He’d been the worst kind of fool to walk away from her all those years ago. She was perfection in every way. Her bloodline meant nothing in the face of what having a mate meant to him. For once in his life, he actually wanted to stay with a woman. To know her. To love her. The reality of his life had meant nothing since that day in the woods. Nothing. Now, after all this time he’d finally realized where he belonged…with her, in her.

  Heat rose between them as their skin slickened with sweat and the pleasure riding them both. He buried his face in her neck and scraped his teeth against the thin, soft skin of her shoulder. He inhaled deeply, letting the unique scent of her fill him. His cock swelled until he thought he would explode from the flames licking over every inch of his body. She gasped and thrashed against him, forcing him to push his hips against her to create an increased pressure where she needed it most. His mate was about to have an orgasm and she didn’t want him to stop. His heart stuttered at the image; her losing control in his arms and giving herself to him unconditionally was more than he’d ever hoped for.

  The hard buds of her nipples poked at his chest as he continued to piston into her, driving them both into a frenzy of lust and feral need. The time for soft words or expressions had escaped him as the wild hunger for his mate propelled him to the edge, threatening his very sanity.

  “You’re mine now,” he growled, cringing at the feral sound of his own voice. Her lips parted on another long moan as her muscles clenched around him, coating him with her cream. His breath hitched, stuck in his chest. He couldn’t breathe through something this good and it was so fucking good.

  “Oh God, Malcolm, what are you doing to me?” Her hands twined in his hair tugging and pulling as she came while the shudders racked her body.

  “I’m loving you, baby. Something I should have done a long time ago. So get used to it because you belong to me now.” Never had a woman shredded his control like this. The cougar had her now but the man wanted his mate just as much. He’d just never known it. As each thrust threatened to send him shooti
ng over the edge, he knew he never wanted this to end. Soon she would become his world and own him as much as he owned her. Two would become one and neither of them would ever be alone again.

  A fresh wave of heat rushed to his groin as his balls tightened against his body. He couldn’t hold back from her any longer, and he pushed harder, faster, his fingers digging into her buttocks until the orgasm ripped through him, sending him headlong into an abyss as he unwittingly gave her everything that he had. His body, his heart and his cum.

  She screamed out his name again as she, too, catapulted into another release that had her tightening around him, dragging every bit of pleasure from his body until finally he stilled against her, wrung out from the best goddamn sex he’d ever experienced in his life. He couldn’t imagine how he would survive when they took things slow and easy, drawing more from her during a session designed to get into her head and her secret desires hidden underneath the surface. Or when he explored her submissive side. The scent of it was subtle, but he’d draw it out. Teach her the exquisite pleasure of submitting to her mate. She would be his pride and joy, he just knew it.

  She stirred against him and he raised his head from her shoulder, meeting her gaze. She definitely had the look of a woman well sated but the tinge of sadness around the edges was impossible to miss.

  “Chey, did I hurt you?” She curled in her bottom lip and shook her head. Her denial seemed hollow when he spied the sheen of tears pooling in her eyes. He gently eased his hips back and slid from her body so he could move them. Guilt hammered at him for letting the animal steal away his control. He’d never allowed that to happen, but with her, all bets were off. Everything changed.

  He gently curled his arm around her bottom and lifted her back into his arms, loving the sensation of more warm skin brushing against his abdomen. Worry unfurled when she turned her head away from him, avoiding anymore eye contact. Stopping in front of the couch, he placed her on the soft cushions and grabbed the blanket he kept draped across the back to cover her.

  “Bathroom,” she whispered.

  “It’s just down the hall there.” He pointed toward his bedroom where she’d been standing not all that long ago trying to trap him. Chey’s feet hit the floor and she padded quietly toward his room, gathering up her clothes as she went. Her quiet, careful demeanor worried him yet didn’t stop him from getting excited when she bent over to pick up her pants. The woman had one fine ass.

  After she disappeared, he heard the door close and the distinct click of the lock. Something akin to fear shivered down his spine. What had he missed? He paced over to the door, grabbed up his jeans and shoved his legs in them. Frustration made him nervous. He needed her to accept him for who he really was but he should have held back, been gentle, taken a little more time with her.

  Fucking dumb ass.

  “I should probably get going.” He whirled at the sound of her voice, shocked that she continued to sneak up on him.

  “Look, Chey, I know—”

  “Don’t, Malcolm. Everything is fine. I’ll admit that I got a little emotional there at the end but that’s my own fault. It’s just been a long time since… ” she hesitated. “Well, since I’ve had sex.”

  He smiled at her. He couldn’t help it, she looked so beautiful and vulnerable standing there trying to explain herself. “I understand, Chey. I think what we are both feeling is a little overwhelming.”

  She winced when he spoke those words and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Her hesitancy spoke volumes.

  “It was just sex. Very good sex, but still… It’s time for me to go home. In fact, I should have never accepted this assignment.”

  He lowered his voice, doing his best to control the temper rising. “This was way more than sex and you know it, and no, you aren’t going anywhere.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes changing from soft regret to shock before he saw resignation finally set in. She knew exactly what was going on between them and no one would be foolish enough to think walking away would be simple. They’d both suffer for it.

  “I can’t stay here. You don’t understand.”

  “I understand all I need to. You’re my mate in every way and a nature like that is impossible to fight. I made the worst possible mistake a man can make five years ago, but I intend to spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “That’s what you think? That this is simply mating heat and that we have no say so in the course of our lives?”

  “I’m thinking I’m damn grateful this has happened. It’s probably more than I could ever deserve but nonetheless, I won’t be letting go.”

  “I’m not your mate, Malcolm.”

  “That’s bullshit and we both know it. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before and I damn well know what mating heat looks like.”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes. “It’s impossible. I can’t be your mate.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  She hesitated and stark fear glittered in her eyes. “Because I’m already mated.”

  Everything in Malcolm’s body froze as her words whiplashed through his brain. As he processed the implications of what she said, he was certain he’d not heard her right.

  “What the hell did you say?”

  “Please, Malcolm, you heard me. Don’t make me repeat them.”

  An enraged snarl left his lips, causing her to take two steps back, pissing him off further. No way. This fucking could not be happening.

  He grabbed her arm and whipped her around, shoving her hair to the side so he could get a look at the back of her neck. There was only one way to know for sure. The blood drained from his head when he spied the small scar at the back of her neck. Where his mark should have been, someone else had claimed her. She’d forsaken him for another. Allowed another man to bite her. The cougar raged inside of him as he gritted his teeth to control it. Fire burned in his veins. Despite everything, the animal demanded freedom; he would steal what belonged to another.

  Pain ripped through his guts straight to his heart. He stumbled away from her, the claws in his hand shredding his skin. He’d known better than to believe. Nothing good ever came from giving trust. Ever. Now they would all suffer.

  “Get out!” he snapped.

  He shoved her in the general direction of the door and stalked to the back of the house and his escape. He had to face the truth. He’d seen the evidence with his own eyes, but if he didn’t get away from her and her scent, the cougar would force his will on them both.

  Chapter Four

  Tears welled and spilled onto Chey’s cheeks as her legs gave out and she sank to the ground. The pain and rage that had burned from Malcolm when she’d blurted out the truth would likely haunt her for a long time, not to mention her own remorse at the mess she’d managed to create. What had started out as a quick meeting of warm bodies and similar needs had quickly morphed into something far more complicated that neither of them was ready for.

  What had happened? Chey couldn’t remember a time in her life, not even with John, where she’d been so overwhelmed that all of her carefully crafted control had flown out the window. She’d wanted to explain it away as akin to a dam breaking after a long time of no sexual contact, but no, she’d been a fool. Even if her mixed blood had created an abnormally high sex drive, even for cougars, she’d never gotten mindless over it ever before. Five years ago, she’d sworn Malcolm was different, but when the physical pain of loss eventually subsided, she’d convinced herself it had been of her own making.

  Chey placed her hands on the hard wood floor and pushed herself up. She couldn’t sit here fighting the tears all day long. She stared at the wall that just a little while ago Malcolm had used to take her in the most demanding and urgent sex she’d ever experienced. It had been more than sex but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. She had a life to return to, even if that meant more pain and guilt. They’d both become her security blanket.

  Now sh
e needed to get as far away from here as fast as she could, but her feet didn’t want to move. The blinding pain in Malcolm’s gaze threatened to keep her on her knees. She needed to explain the rest of her story to him. Make him understand the situation wasn’t quite as bad as she’d watched him leap to. Although where she would get the words to explain what had happened to her mate and her involvement in it, she had no idea. Fuck it. She didn’t need forgiveness from him.

  Even her family hadn’t succeeded in getting her to talk about it and it wasn’t for the lack of trying, that was for sure. Renewed grief slashed at her mind as she saw the final look in John’s eyes, the love and trust that he’d wanted her to remember. She glanced around the room needing… dying for air. Outside. Her brain attempted to function. Standing in Malcolm’s house after he’d ordered her out made her uneasy. She slipped on her soft leather moccasins and headed for the door. She could wait for him to return in her Jeep. Somehow it seemed less intrusive.

  With one last glance behind her, she twisted the knob and pulled the door open. The scent of blood slammed into her like a ton of bricks, the smell so strong she knew it meant there would be a lot of blood. Fear stabbed at her heart as her mind leapt to Malcolm. Oh Goddess, no please. Don’t let it be him. Not again…please.

  She forced her head to tilt down and immediately nausea roiled through her body and dry heaves gripped her stomach. Limbs dangled from a shredded body, nearly every inch of skin peeled away. Jagged claw marks covered what little was left and the throat had so clearly been ripped from the neck with razor sharp teeth. The face, however, had not been touched: the thin lips, slightly parted; crooked little nose probably from being broken so many times; and dead blank eyes staring out from the lifeless body.