“Love being in you.” Alex ground his teeth as her inner muscles rippled, and more liquid heat bathed his dick. He loved watching himself sink inside her. Loved that view of her perfect little ass—an ass he owned, just as he owned every other delectable inch of her.
He growled as her pussy tightened and superheated around him. “You’re close, aren’t you? Good. I want you to come hard for me.” He snaked one hand around her body and found her clit. She went wild beneath him. Her pussy became tighter and tighter and tighter.
He sank his teeth into the back of her shoulder. She damn well detonated; screaming, bucking, clawing the sheets. Snarling, Alex pounded into her harder as her pussy clamped down like a vice and swept him under. White-hot pleasure tore through him, fast and fierce, making his eyes go blind. He exploded inside her, his cock throbbing and pulsing.
For a few moments, he collapsed on top of her, utterly replete. Sated. Content. Loathed to leave her body, he nonetheless gently pulled out of her and flopped onto his back. His mouth dry as a bone, he lay there, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. She lay on her stomach beside him, her eyes closed, her body shuddering with little aftershocks.
“You okay?” he asked. “I was pretty rough.”
“If it had been too much, I would have said so.” Her lids lifted, revealing slumberous eyes. “Thank you. For earlier. Helping me when I almost checked out with shock.”
“You wouldn’t have checked out. You always have your shit together. I admire it. A lot of people would have cried or raged, but you didn’t. Just like you don’t rage about what a bitch fate has been to you by lumping you with Paxton.”
“My dad drummed it into me daily that finding your true mate didn’t equate to happiness; that it wasn’t the be all and end all. He was right. There are so many imprinted couples around us, including Mila and Dominic. They’re solid and ridiculously happy.”
They were. It was almost nauseating. “My maternal grandparents imprinted on each other. It was an arranged mating, which doesn’t always work out well. But they have a tight, albeit highly dysfunctional, relationship.”
“My own grandmother believed imprint bonds are more special than true mate bonds, because it means your partner chose you. There’s no fate at work. The decision isn’t taken from your hands. That person wanted you enough that you mean more to them than anything else—even their true mate.”
“Yeah, that’s special,” Alex agreed.
“You know, Riley once told me that although ravens believe in destiny, they don’t believe that a shifter’s fate always lies with their true mate; they believe that if a shifter finds someone they love, their fate may lie with them. That rings true for me. I don’t believe my destiny ever lay with Paxton. I never felt that way.”
Curling his arm around her, Alex drew her closer. “Good. Because you’re not his, and he can’t have you.” He pressed a long kiss to her mouth. “Now get some sleep. It won’t be long before I wake you up to take you again.”
“No complaints here.”
“For the hundredth and final time, you’re not giving me money for groceries.” Bree slammed her locker door to punctuate her words.
“Baby girl, I eat more of your food than you do,” said Alex. “I have breakfast at your home every morning, and I eat dinner there every night. I snack like it’s my job, and I intend to continue to do so. It ain’t cheap to keep a wolverine fed.”
“And you’re still not paying for groceries.”
“Yes, I am—deal with it.”
“Don’t tell me to deal with it. It is my house, my kitchen, my food—”
“Which I’ll have paid for. Jesus, Bree, I’m not suggesting I pay to have your damn kitchen remodeled. We’re talking groceries here.” He gave his head a little shake. “Why are we fighting?”
“We’re not fighting. We’re arguing.”
“How is that different?”
“My claws are sheathed, and you’re not bleeding. But that can change fast.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re hot when you’re mad.”
“Don’t try to change the subject.” Taking in a calming breath, she raised both hands. “Okay, on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is this to you?”
“A gazillion.”
She sighed impatiently. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He gave her a hard kiss. “Glad we got that sorted.”
“We didn’t get anything sorted, we—”
“I have to go to the mechanic’s shop,” he said, referring to another of the pride businesses that he co-owned with Vinnie. “I won’t be long. If you need me, call.” And then he just swanned out of the break room.
Bree clenched her fists. The guy was a pain in her ass.
Wanting to use the bathroom before her lunch break was officially over, she headed to the restroom and did her business. Washing her hands afterward, she sighed at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Lines of strain were etched deep into her face. But then, that was no surprise, considering she had several questions bouncing around her head like pinballs.
Had it been Calvin who left the necklaces? Had he—or whoever the intruder was—broken into her home before? Would she arrive home later to find that someone had trespassed again and left her yet more “gifts?”
No one should have to feel unsafe in their own home. But knowing that some fucker had so easily snuck past her guards and security like that … the whole thing made her house feel tainted in some way. So, yeah, her cat was monumentally pissed. Like all shifters, the feline was pathologically territorial.
Having dried her hands with paper towels, Bree walked out of the restroom and headed to the showroom floor. She’d no sooner took up her usual position behind the counter when the bell above the door jingled. She looked up. And silently cursed a blue streak as Bernadette, Ruben, and Moira strode inside.
There was nothing confrontational about their body language, which was probably the only reason that Greg didn’t refuse them entrance. But the enforcer’s eyes were sharp on the trio, and she knew he’d throw them out if they gave him the slightest reason.
Alex stayed at the store most days while she worked, and it seemed awful convenient that they’d turned up while he was absent. She wondered if the Cages had watched and waited for an opportunity to talk to her without him present.
“Well, hell,” muttered Elle as she slipped behind the counter and moved to stand behind Bree in a gesture of support. James and Valentina didn’t move from their positions near his desk, but their eyes stayed on the newcomers as they crossed to the counter.
Bernadette looked at Bree with a tremulous but serene smile on her face. “You believe now, don’t you? I told Paxton was alive, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Bree sighed. Oh, Lord. “Bernadette—”
“Don’t say you think it’s Calvin who’s been doing these things,” the woman said. “You know he didn’t. You know he wouldn’t.” Her brows drew together. “You really threw away the half-heart necklace Paxton gave you?”
“He didn’t give it to me. You did.”