T. Grey: Bonds of Fire

“Still in Moscow. I couldn’t risk moving you after your accident. God you scared me.” The harsh way he said it almost convinced Willow he meant it. Couldn’t possibly. He didn’t know her. Besides, it’s not like she meant to slip on ice and tumble over the bridge into the icy water below.

“Dammit you need to feed, don’t you? Willow we were together days ago. What do you need? Your skin is cold, but I have you under a heap of covers with the damn heat turned up. I won’t let you die because you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Willow whispered. She blinked at him, focused on him since he was the only thing that didn’t spin around her. Her head felt discombobulated, separated from her actual body like she was on some kind of drug after a bend in the hospital.

The heat of his hands made her wince as he cupped her icy cheeks. Her face burned as he pressed his scalding cheek against hers. She hissed at the tingling sensations of his touch. It felt like her skin had been asleep until he touched her, and now little pinpricks poked her from the inside.

Her body snapped—acting on pure instinct. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. She ate at his lips, pressing hard, thrusting inside to taste and feel. She moaned, already the hazy feeling in her mind retreating like fog lifting.

She felt his hesitance, and then when he finally caved. It spiked her blood better than alcohol ever could. Groaning, his mouth ate at hers, tongue dueling. His tongue was thick and wide, made for sucking and pleasuring. She was mindless, desperate. The need to survive, the need to live driving her as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

Her core landed against the hard length of his shaft, and she rubbed herself against it. With a groan, he pulled his mouth away from hers. His eyes shone with molten desire as his hips pressed in a seeking rhythm against hers.

Thoughts of why she hated this man didn’t matter, never even popped into her mind. She was starved, and he could give her what she needed. She threaded her fingers into his hair and brought his lips to her neck.

She didn’t need to say what she wanted. He knew. He sucked her sensitive skin into his mouth. Breathing grew heavy, rapid as pleasure rushed inside her. His cock was hard as it thrust over her sex, brushing against her bud again and again.

Her pleasure spiked.

His teeth sank over the muscle of her neck as he pumped his hips faster against her. His arms wrapped around her waist so tightly that not an inch separated them. She heard his growl and it did something to her, gave her that extra push she needed. His cock rubbed hard against her, and she was tossed over the edge and into something earth shattering.

Hot waves swept through her. Hips jerking, breasts tight, she screamed, clung tightly to him as he rocked her into oblivion. His groan followed her and then she felt the sharp, wet jets surging against her as he ground himself close.

Willow didn’t stop to catch her breath. She thrust herself as far away from him as she could. The heavy clang of metal stopped her from moving more than a few feet across the bed.

“Get these off me, now!”

His eyes were slow to open, his breathing deep and heavy. Her eyes trailed down, no matter how she warned them not to, and saw the wet splotches between his thighs where he’d spent himself. Pleasure bloomed deep inside her, had her tearing her eyes away from it, from him.

“I’m not taking those off you unless you swear to stay and submit.”

Willow stared at him like he was mad. “You’ve lost your damned mind.”

“No, Willow. I’ve just found what I’ve been looking for.” Willow’s heart skipped a few beats.

“What does that mean?” She was terrified to know. His smile was slow and sure. It completely devastated her.

“Do you know much about shapeshifters?” Willow knew some, had had a few shifter friends in the past. Her ex was her experience with dominant shapeshifters, and that was enough for her.

She knew that shapeshifters were separated between dominants and submissives and there was no in between. She also knew the Alpha ran the pack. Lyonis wasn’t just any Alpha. In a great battle, he’d fought other Alphas, challenging them for the right to be leader. She snorted. Ridiculous the shit men went through to prove they had a bigger cock.

“Some,” she finally said when he only stared at her.

“Then do you know what happens when the male finally finds his mate?”

Ice filled Willow’s blood. Slack-jawed, she stared at the Alpha. He laughed at her reaction, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I thought you might. See, a male spends his life searching for the right mate, his one. When he finds her, he knows in an instant. It brands us in our soul with your scent, your look, your taste, your touch. You could go to the end of the world and I’d still find you.”

It took a moment for her to form words. “No way. That’s insane. That’s ridiculous.” Understatement of the year. “You can’t be right. You’re wrong. When did you figure this out?” Panic pulsed inside her, made her breaths quicken.

“The moment I saw you at the train station in Spain. That’s all it takes for Alphas. A mere look. For others they may need to touch the individual or kiss, but I knew long before our lips ever touched.”

“How poetic,” Willow said. He looked at her lips as if thinking how sweet they are. Willow tucked them in.

“It is in a way. I’ve been searching for my mate for most of my life. The single females in the pack have been angry with me that it wasn’t any of them. I’ve sought out females, yet none of them could even hold my interest. But you Willow, I knew the instant I saw you. However unexpected it was. I am not disappointed in the least.”

“Good for you.” Grinning, he stood and started taking off his pants. Willow tensed. “What are you doing?” His eyes laughed at her and she hated it. She’d slap him and then show him who was laughing, if only she wasn’t cuffed.

“I need to change. I can’t go around with a cum stain in my pants, right?” His pants slid to the floor, and Willow squeezed her eyes shut. He didn’t wear underwear. Of course. Only after she heard the rustle of clothing did she chance a peak. Just in time to see his sculpted ass disappear behind the material.

“Get me out of this chain.”

“Not unless you swear to behave.” Willow ground her teeth. She never was one to take promises or vows lightly.

“Listen, that’s not gonna happen and the blood’s draining from my hands. Seriously, it’s starting to feel numb. Get them off me.” He strolled towards her slowly then tugged on the chain.

“What would it be worth to you if I did?”

Willow’s jaw dropped at his audacity. “I’ll let you keep your balls intact?” Not to say she might not knee him a few times. Maybe it’ll take him down a peg or two. She was so not feeling guilty about the knee to the face now.

“Those will stay as they are if you know what’s good for you. No, I was thinking something more on the line of...submission.”

Willow laughed. “Never gonna happen.” His smile was cocky and sure. It twisted her insides.

“I think it will, Willow. And I can’t wait to see it.”

Willow flipped him the bird and prayed that the jump in her heart wasn’t because of him.

Sometimes a person had to make concessions in order to move forward.

Was she normally one to make compromises? Hell no.

Willow’s concession was a little too close for comfort. The only way she could get that damn mongrel to remove the chains was if she promised to return with him to his pack or to mate with him. She chose the lesser of two evils.