Marie Harte - Gunnar's Game

The man would make love to her; then his beast would push his way into claiming her, fucking, biting, petting, which would then lead to his berserker trying to break free from the tight hold he held on it. And that creature wanted nothing more than to possess Ava. No, not possess, own . As if Ava would allow that to happen. But when the time came, he'd just have to make her realize…

He started, aware he hadn't questioned the when of claiming her, but the how.

“Hell, this is not what I need right now,” he muttered and stomped up the stairs to his room.

Someone had cleaned it, because he'd left it a mess, as usual. Chaos made him feel at home. A clean room reminded him too much of his early years spent trying to please Eric Tersch, a time best forgotten.

He closed his bedroom door behind him and sighed as he finally relaxed.

Letting the tension ease from his tired muscles, he stripped off his boots, socks, and shirt. He walked into the bathroom and grinned at the stacked towels on the sink.

“Bet that burned her ass.”

Some twisted part of him got off on making Ava serve him. Probably because it annoyed her to no end, and he liked the strange relationship they had. He wanted her but wouldn't have her. She wanted him but didn't want to desire him. And they both knew how the other felt, so they dealt with their common frustration by pissing each other off. It worked for him.

He shifted on the balls of his feet when her scent hit him—the clean, pure smell of Ava Belle. Oddly enough, she didn't smell like a typical Circ. Nothing fruity or flowery about Ava. Hers was a feminine perfume uniquely her own.

And it was growing stronger.

He leaned closer to the towels. Not there. He turned around and followed his nose…to the slumped figure fighting to hold on to the bedspread. He hadn't seen her before since the bed canted to an angle, but she was now visible over its massive mattress.

“ Shit .” He dashed to her side and easily lifted her in his arms. Gently lowering her to the bed, he looked her over, running his hands over her to make sure she hadn't broken anything. “What the hell, Ava? Baby, you okay?” He stemmed the guilt he felt as pleasure coursed through his veins just from the simple contact of touch. I’m not copping a feel; I’m trying to make sure she’s okay. So why am I so fucking hard right now?

She groaned.

“Ava, talk to me. You're freaking me out.” With one hand he felt for her pulse, relieved to feel the steady thrumming of her heartbeat. She didn't look injured, but he couldn't tell with her clothes on.

At the thought, he froze, one hand on her belly, the other on her neck.

She dragged a hand to the one he had plastered to her T-shirt and opened her eyes. He stared into orbs more green than brown. So clear, so goddamn beautiful.

Sooty lashes made a mystery of those eyes, and she blinked lazily, like a cat, as she watched him.

“You're hot,” she said in a throaty drawl.

Unconsciously, he spread his fingers over the flat plane of her stomach, feeling the muscle and warmth of the vibrant woman beneath him. “So are you.” Any pain he might have expected to see on her face didn't appear. Instead, hunger and a familiar feminine defiance looked up at him.

His beast responded with an eager growl, taking note of a prime female waiting to be claimed.

Tersch had to force himself not to accept the challenge she presented. He slowly withdrew his hands and sat next to her on the bed. He coughed to clear his throat and hoped his position, sitting with his side to her, hid his erection.

“So, uh, Ava. You going to tell me why you were dozing on my floor?” When she flushed, he smiled. “Looking under my bed for something? All my nudie magazines are in the nightstand, if you're interested.” And the ones he used for inspiration all featured women who looked like her.

“Ass.” She tried to sit up, but he put his hand on her chest and forced her back down.

He quickly pulled his hand back from the pillowy feel of her soft breasts. “Spill, or I'm telling Grandma.”

She glared at him, relieving him that whatever had befallen her had been temporary. Ava seemed well on her way to recovery if she could stare holes through him.

“I tripped, must have hit my head.”

He raised a brow, knowing how much the gesture aggravated her. “Oh?” He ignored her protests and ran a hand over her soft brown hair, taken with the silken strands. Ava's light brown skin tone and straight hair hinted at European ancestry somewhere in her family tree. The woman fascinated him on every level. He loved everything about her. Small, curvy, pretty. Mine , his beast had to add.

Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder to ignore that inner voice. Too easily, he could imagine taking her hard, uncaring of her concerns as long as he could bend her to his will. Pain and pleasure, a heady offering only a monster would need…

But the disgust wouldn't come, buried under a desire so deep, he could no longer ignored its call.

“Funny, but I don't feel any lumps,” he murmured in a thick voice and turned to add another hand, stroking her scalp with pleasure.

She moaned and twisted under his touch as if seeking more. “You're a real jerk, but you have such good hands.” She relaxed under him and closed her eyes.

“That feels good. Yeah, get the lower part behind my head, just above my neck. A tension headache.”

He rolled his eyes. Somehow he'd gone from interrogator to masseuse. The woman had a way of wrapping him around her finger with little effort. God help him if she learned she had so much power. “Ava, tell me what happened.” He stopped his ministrations.

She blinked her eyes open. “It's no big deal.”

“Ava,” he warned in a soft voice.

“Okay, okay.” She glanced up at him, her lips parted, her eyes becoming more brown. The damned things changed color with her moods, and he could see her worry. “I need your help.”

“Oh?”

“It's only happened to me once before. A searing pain in my head. But it's Grayson's fault.”

He grimaced. “The psychic? The same one you told me you were sleeping with but who denied it like crazy? That Grayson?”

She scowled up at him. “I did no such thing, you pervert. He's my brother.” He blinked. “Like hell.”

“No, he is. I'm not lying.”

“Who the hell knows with you? You told me before that you were sleeping with one of the psychics. Now you're not, and he's your brother?”

“We have the same eyes.”

“Yeah, but you're brown. He's white.”

She sighed. “I'm black, not brown.”

He tried not to be taken in by her wide eyes and that soft, creamy skin. But where Ava was concerned, Tersch was weak. He'd made so many mental comparisons of that sweet flesh, he could tick them off on the fingers of both hands.

“No, baby. That skin is nowhere near black. A rich coffee, a dark caramel, a milk chocolate, something sweet I'd like to eat up one bite at a time.” His hands tingled where they touched her. He leaned closer, unable to help himself.

“We…we were talking about my brother.”

“Were we?” His brain seemed to have shut off. He'd been wondering for an entire fucking year what it would be like to feel her mouth under his. And she was so close. In his room. On his bed…

Don’t do it. Keep the monster away from her. You’ll put her in danger . In the back of his mind, he heard his sister's cry, Susanna's plea for life, an enraged roar.

But Ava surrounded him with pure, sweet need. He couldn't resist the temptation, not any longer.

He planted his hands on either side of her head and lowered himself so that his bare chest pressed against her thinly clad breasts. Fuck, he could feel her nipples against him, his body overly sensitized to her nearness.