T. Grey: Bonds of Fire

Succubi generally didn’t experience sex before they reached the age of sexual maturity at twenty-nine because it was a known fact that they couldn’t orgasm before then. Her boyfriend David hadn’t cared one way or the other if she orgasmed.

She wasn’t bitter or angry about it. It was a long time ago. Okay, that was a lie. She hated him with a violent passion. But she was equally angry with herself.

To know that the only other man who’d felt that intimate part of her body was a damned dominating Alpha shapeshifter, the epitome of the kind of men she loathed made her want to slam her head into a brick wall. She’d gone for a man just like her ex. Stupid, stupid.

A pebble rustled behind her. Willow spun around in a heartbeat. He was there. Every tall, muscled inch of him. His hand grabbed her throat, not in a threat but in a dominating gesture that probably made lesser women swoon. Good thing she wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t some submissive bitch from his pack. His hand was warm and gentle, stroking the skin beneath his fingertips.

“Let go of me, asshole.” His hair was just thick enough for her to grip in her hands, not that she ever would do that. It was a sandy blond color, somewhere between a light brown and dark blond.

“How did you catch me so soon?”

His silence gave her a moment to really notice him. He looked angry and disheveled as if he’d been in a rush. His clothes were the same ones he’d worn when she last saw him. His shirt was wrinkled, and several buttons were missing. He looked like a hot mess.

She couldn’t help it; she threw back her head and laughed at him. Before she could blink, his mouth came down on hers. She struggled, turned her face away, breathing hard, but not before the lingering heat of his lips seared into her mind. Her body responded, remembering his touch from before.

He pulled her in close and she shivered at the hot press of his lips against her throat. His fingers caressed her skin, then wrapped around to curl around the nape of her neck. She was overwhelmed with his scent, couldn’t help but inhale the rich, animal scent of him.

His tongue licked a rough path from her shoulder to the back of her neck as if he was tasting her. Yet she wasn’t revolted in the least. Quite the opposite. The fire that had been raging inside her since she met him, since she left him, now had gasoline thrown on top of it—by the gallon.

“I see your nose has healed,” she said, her voice thick with arousal. She’d kneed him in the face the last time she saw him. After he’d taken her with startling passion behind a store. She was sad to acknowledge that a part of her was relieved that his face had healed.

His free hand wrapped band around her back, pulling her against him. She was plastered against him like a second skin. He reached down and cupped her bottom in a tight squeeze. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from moaning. He released his grip then did it again, massaging her possessively.

Did he know that when he did that liquid fire spread through her sex, readied her for penetration? Bastard probably did. The thought was slow to come though, languid as her mind so easily became swept up in him—in Alpha Lyonis Keelan.

“I heal quickly. Do you remember what I told you I’d do when I caught you?” he said, making her breath catch as she remembered. “Well I’ve caught you, Willow. Run now. Run fast. Because when I catch you, I’m going to take you hard, deep, and fast. Nowhere you go can stop me. And I know you’re going to love it. I know you want it.”

Suddenly Willow was standing free, on shaking knees that threatened to topple her to the ground. She stared stunned at Lyonis as he watched her with a heated glare. He moved and she jumped like a skittish mouse. A slow, sexy grin curled over his lickable mouth and then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

Heart racing, Willow turned and ran. It was too dark. They were alone. She needed to find people, a public place, anything. She wouldn’t let him touch her again, dammit. She raced into town, her heart deflating as she realized all the shops and stores were closed. She tried to remember where the hotel was but couldn’t. Besides that was the last thing she need. Him and her near a bed together.

Weren’t there anything 24-hour gas stations or something? She fled down one street after the next, blindly searching for a café or crowd of people. Nothing. No one. But then she heard something. The faint throbbing pulse of music. Willow sprinted towards the sound, tearing through the streets at a dangerous speed.

There was no time to look behind and search for him. She couldn’t let him find her, couldn’t let him win. She came up on the next street and smiled at the sight of a disco—a German dance club. The pulsing red sign in a cursive font read: CLUB EURO.

A heavy techno beat came from inside the club. Teenagers to college-aged clubbers hung in line flashing IDs to get in. Willow raced for it. If she got in there, he’d have no chance.

Willow stayed within the well-lit street and reached the back of the line with almost disappointing relief. Her heart raced with the delicious lick of excitement.

She was breathing hard but otherwise, she’d done it. The line moved quickly, and she took a moment to search the street up and down, high and low for any sign of animal or man.

He knew her scent and on top of that, his scent was embedded deep in her body. He could have pulled out, could have done things so differently, but what did she expect really. He was an Alpha. He had no qualms about taking her body, using her.

More people were let into the club, leaving Willow only two people back. She caught a flash of movement out the corner of her eye and whirled around. Nothing. She glared into the night and stuck out her middle finger just in case he was there.

Maybe he really hadn’t caught up to her yet. The bastard. She flashed her ID and paid a five-dollar fee to get into the club. It wasn’t exactly the bed and breakfast she wanted to be relaxing at but it would do for now.

The club smelled of alcohol and was dark except for the flashing bright strobe lights swirling and blinking from the ceiling. Bodies jumped and danced on the crowded dance floor, and Willow squeezed through them with the one purpose in mind: getting away from the front door.

She saw a white light on the other side of the room and made her way towards it. As she got closer, she saw it was the women’s restroom. Perfect. She’d hide in there. Her hope soon deflated as she saw the line for it. She went to the end of it, ready to wait.

It was probably one of those small restrooms, and she doubted these women would let her camp out in there until the club closed. At least it would buy her some time until she figured out what she was going to do.

The thought had no sooner left her mind, when she was grabbed from behind and dragged along the wall into a darkened alcove. She knew his scent; the feel of his hard body against her back.

His voice came at her ear. “Got you. I’m ready to take my prize now, Willow.” Willow scrambled to get away from him, but his arms were strong around her. He couldn’t take her here! There were at least a hundred people in this club. The line for the ladies’ room was a mere ten feet away.

She opened her mouth to scream but his rough voice came back at her ear, “I don’t want to hear anything from your pretty lips except moans, sighs, and the sound of my name. Or I’ll make you regret it.”

Something hot and not unpleasant warmed her blood, tightened her skin. He cupped her breasts over her t-shirt, rolling her nipples between his fingers. When that wasn’t enough his hands impatiently moved over her stomach, hips, thighs, and between her legs. He was rough this time, excited by the chase. A part of her badly wanted to let him win and claim her, but she couldn’t do it.