Archer brooded all the way back to court, which thankfully, was short. Once they’d gotten clear of the warehouse, it had taken mere minutes to reach a café and call a car to fetch them. Reena found herself tugged along behind Archer as he burst through the front doors of their building to find Travis waiting, his arms folded over his chest and his expression tight with concern.

“What happened?” he demanded, but Archer just brushed past him.

“Hey! Wait up.” He whirled around, grabbing Archer’s other arm stopping the hellhound in his tracks. “What the hell happened out there? The restaurant said you were attacked right outside. Then we get a call…” He cut a glance at Reena, perceptive gaze taking in her tattered clothes and the replacement shoes she’d had brought in the car.

“Travis, not now,” she said softly, feeling the heat building in Archer’s skin. The mood he was in, he could easily take Travis apart. Then it would be blood on the floor all over again. Hers, since she wouldn't allow anyone to hurt either man. Not even each other. “I’m good. He’s good. We got jumped, but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. Talk later, okay?”

“Bu—”

“Later, Travis.” Her words swelled with authority and he nodded, letting go of Archer’s arm to step back. His set expression said she’d better make the explanation a damn good one.

Archer yanked on her hand, pulling her behind him as he strode through the corridors of the court toward their rooms.

“Archer?” She pulled on his hand, but he didn’t slow. Much taller than her, his long legs ate up the distance, forcing her to trot to keep up. It was that or be dragged. “Archer? Slow down. Talk to me.”

He growled in response, turning a corner to head up the main staircase, but didn’t stop. Finally, she’d had enough.

“No!” Digging in her heels, she yanked on his hand. Made him stop. “Archer, please. Talk to me.”

She knew he was fast and strong, but the speed in which he spun around made her gasp in surprise. His hand whipped out to snag her at the back of her neck and he yanked her against his hard body. The air left her lungs in a rush, her hands spread over his broad chest.

His eyes blazed red as he looked down at her, and the dark look in them sent a shiver down her spine. A little fear and a lot of something else.

“No talking.” His voice was low and thick, dangerous. “I don’t want to talk. I want you. And unless you want me to fuck you right here, you’ll move that sexy little ass.”

She gasped as he let go, and stepped back. His chest heaved, features tight with control, as though he couldn’t touch her for fear of losing it.

“Run, little wolf, because when I catch you, you’re mine. I almost lost you today and that’s unacceptable. I’ll make you mine, totally and utterly. Shove my cock so deep inside, you’ll forget where you end and I begin…” He moved closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “And when you’re screaming my name, I’ll sink my fangs into your shoulder and claim you forever.”

Her eyes widened and she turned her head to look up at him. He wanted to mate her? As in forever… Shit. What would the council think of their leader being mated to a hellhound?

He didn’t give her time to think, a grim smile curving his lips. “Your choice, beautiful. In private or here, on the stairs. I don’t care. You’re mine.”

Holy shit. He meant it.

Between one instant and the next, she decided. Screw the council—not literally, she wasn’t that kinky—this was her life and she’d live it how she damn well pleased. And she wanted Archer… a forever kind of want. Emotion blossomed, unfolding from the tight cage she’d kept it in. It had grown when she’d thought he was just a wolf, only to be shoved deep down when his real heritage had been revealed. But now…

She loved him. Did he love her? He wanted to mate her. That was love, of a kind?

They could make it work.

They would make it work.

Watching him, she stepped out of her shoes. Tension arced between them, the air thickening until it was difficult to pull into her lungs. She was fast. Could she make the stairs and the relative privacy of the upper corridor before he caught her?

A thrill shot through her the instant before she leaped. He growled, a damn sexy sound that hit her low in the abdomen, and swung an arm to catch her around the waist. She ducked beneath and scuttled up the stairs. Not elegant but she didn’t care. Sex in public was okay as a fantasy, but she’d rather the whole court—or even the few guards around at night—didn’t find out what she looked like in the throes of passion.

She reached the top of the stairs with the thunder of Archer’s pursuit bare seconds behind her. His fingertips brushed her shoulder, but she twisted and ran faster, a squeak of combined fear and excitement escaping her lips. Her feet were winged as she all but flew down the corridor. She daren’t spare a glance over her shoulder in case it slowed her down. There was no point. Archer was right behind her. The heat rising from his skin warmed her back.

She hit the doors of her suite a second before he did, bursting through them. She had managed one step inside the room before he was on her. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, stopping her flight and hauling her against him, her back against his broad chest, his groin against her ass.

Her breath came in short pants, her hands on his forearm around her. He swept her loose hair away from her neck to run his lips over the soft skin. Her size had never bothered her, except in a random irritated wish for her human form to be more regal and imposing. With Archer’s bigger form wrapped around her, she felt tinier and more delicate than she ever had.

“I could do this now,” he muttered, scraping the edge of a fang along her tender skin. She jumped, then moaned as a bolt of lust dug its claws into her. “Right here, right now. Bite you and make you mine forever. You’d come apart right here for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes…” Damn him, she would. She was so keyed up, it wouldn’t take anything more than his scent around her and his fangs buried into her shoulder to tip her over the edge. “Please, Archer, wait. Not here.”

He didn’t answer, but retracted the fang and pressed a kiss against her shoulder instead. She sighed, sagging against him in relief. Perhaps hellhounds did it differently, but for a proper werewolf mating he had to bite her during sex.

“Not here, but soon,” he promised, turning her in his arms.

His lips took hers in a brutal claiming that shattered her defenses. Moaning, she opened for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Parting her lips with his tongue, he sought hers. Teased and stroked with slow slides that stole her breath and her ability to think. The kiss deepened, became open-mouthed and desperate.

Breaking away, she rested her forehead against his chest for a second and tried to catch her breath. His clothes were tattered from his shift in the warehouse and her fingers found the tears to touch him. Stroked the hotter-than-normal skin.

“I can’t wait. I have to have you.”

Strong fingers under her jaw, he lifted her chin to claim her lips again. As his tongue thrust back into her mouth, he picked her up. A few short steps brought them to the large table in the middle of the room. With a sweep of his arm, he cleared it. The vase of roses crashed to the floor unheeded.

“Mine,” he growled, depositing her on the table and shoving her tattered dress over her hips. A hard knee between hers parted her legs so he could fit his hips between them. She gasped when the hard bar of his cock pressed against her. Her body responded as it always did, instant heat slipping from her to dampen her panties. Hand on the small of her back, he pulled her snugly against him and rocked his hips.

Pleasure exploded through her. Her pussy clenched, aching for him to fill her. To urge him on, she wrapped her legs around his hips, her bare feet caressing the backs of his legs.

“All mine.”

His hand closed around her throat and she stilled for a moment, looking up at him. She’d been born a wolf, but she’d not always been as powerful as she was now. She’d known what it felt like to fear for her life. It had been a constant state during her childhood. As an adult though, not so much. Now…he could snap her neck like a twig.

He smiled, his fierce expression mellowed by the emotion in his eyes, and he caressed the line of her jaw with his thumb. “So delicate, I’ll take good care of you.”

Urging her to lie back, he watched her for a second, thumb still whispering over the line of her jaw. The position underlined his power and dominance over her, but she’d never felt more protected and loved in her life.

He let her go, and instantly she missed the warmth of his hand. His fingertips trailed down the front of her throat. With gentle touches, he traced the edges of her collarbones, following the neckline of her bodice, such as it was. She’d shifted earlier and even the stretch fabrics she preferred struggled with such a change in size and mass, never mind the attack from a hellhound’s claws. The dress was ruined, she had no idea why he was so careful with it.

Strike that. Hooking his fingers into her bodice, he tore the dress down the middle in one movement. Cool air washed over her exposed body like a caress. She bit her lip, arching her back in response to the sensory overload. The weight of his gaze on her was a physical touch. A touch she needed more of.

His hands circled her waist, then slid up, cradling her ribcage. She felt his claws extend and scrape her skin, but it didn’t worry her, rather the slight sting added to the need rolling through her. A tug then slice later and her bra was whipped away, her unfettered breasts exposed to his touch and view.

“Beautiful.” His voice had dropped, the sound of his hound coming out as the scent of their arousal wound its seductive perfume in the air. Lifting her arms, she reached over her head for the opposite edge of the table for a handhold. Something told her she would need it.

His hands covered her breasts. The warm, rough skin on his palms abraded the tender flesh and she bit her lower lip. It felt so good. She loved that he wasn’t all primped and preened to perfection. That he was rough and ready, a real man. Not a wolf, but something far more dangerous. She liked that too. For once, she wasn’t the dominant party in the relationship.

He caressed her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Then, with a light pinch and pluck that made her pussy clench hard, he let go and slid his hands down to her hips.

“These have to go.” His claws made short work of her panties, leaving her naked before him. She opened her eyes, but it didn’t take a genius to work out what he was about to do. Before she could focus, he slid his hand between her legs, parted her pussy lips and slid two strong fingers deep into her cunt.

“Wet already,” he breathed, leaning over her to flick his tongue over one erect nipple. The dual sensation, his rough tongue on her breast and his fingers sliding into her pussy, made her moan. A soft plea. “Feel good?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice or her ability to form words. Hell yeah, it felt good. He knew that. Damn tease. She rocked her hips against his hand, a demand for more. Desire and need ravaged her body, instinct driving her hard. He needed to do something…not tease her.

“Slick and wet.” He pulled his fingers free, ignoring the silent cry of disappointment from her parted lips, and licked them, sucking her juices directly from his skin. “You taste fantastic. But…later.”

Later? What the fuck…what did he mean, later? She let go of her handhold, mouth open to argue, but she didn’t get the chance. Hands hard on her hips, he flipped her on the table. Her naked breasts, her belly pressed against the cold wood and she cried out in surprise. The sound of tearing fabric filled the air as the remnants of her dress were torn from her, leaving her as naked as the day she’d been born. Naked and bent over the table.

A flare of heat warmed her ass and the backs of her thighs. Looking over her shoulder revealed he’d burnt away what remained of his clothing, a fact highlighted when his hair-roughened thighs brushed against the back of hers. A large foot kicked hers wider, parting her farther for him, and the thick, broad head of his cock pressed against her.

“Mine,” he growled and shoved into her in one hard thrust.

“Oh…” She reared back, hands flat on the table as she tried to process the overload of sensation. He was big, his cock stretching her pussy walls tightly around him. Buried deeply inside her, his cock pulsed, his balls pressed against her ass.

“Oh? Just, oh?” he asked, breath whispering the fine hairs on the side of her neck. “I expected more than ‘oh.’”

He pulled her hips back from the table edge and reached around, sliding between her legs. Clever fingers parted her lower lips and found her clit, pressing and rubbing the slickness of her arousal into it. She whimpered, a rush of liquid heat bathing his cock.

“That’s better. Much better.”

He drew back, hard ridges on his cock making her eyes cross as they pressed nerve-endings no human or wolf could touch. She pushed up on her hands as he thrust in again, hard and fast. Slow withdraw. Quick thrust. Again and again. Hard. Slow. Push, then a drag back. All the time, he circled her clit, stroked and teased. His other hand joined the fray, closing around the sensitive flesh of her breast. Strong fingers toyed with her nipple, pinching then pulling. She gasped and shuddered in his arms, her body under his spell.

Her climax rose, at boiling point already. He knew exactly when and how to touch her to bring her to the edge. Always under control. She bit her lip, knowing he could alter his technique at any moment and leave her hanging, desperate for release but unable to attain it. She couldn’t help it, though, and the shuddering moan escaped before she could stop it. Her hand curled around his forearm as he stroked her clit, the corded muscles under her fingertips.

“Archer…please.”

She wasn’t above begging. Not now. Not this time. Tilting her head to the side, she offered him her neck. Pinned beneath him, her throat and shoulder bare to his fangs with his cock buried inside her was the ultimate submission for any she-wolf.

“You give yourself to me? To be mine now and always?” he asked. It was too late, but the fact he asked cracked the last defense around her heart. She loved him. Completely and utterly. And not just because he could make her come with a few touches and a drawl of her name.

“Always,” she whispered.

He struck.

Pain flared, dragging a cry from her lips as agony enveloped her body, but it was shortlived. Almost instantly, her climax broke over her, exploded through her body like a star going supernova and obliterating all else. She tried to suck a breath into lungs that no longer processed oxygen. Instead, her body ran on pure pleasure. It raced rampant through her, over her skin, through her veins. Invaded every skin cell in one perfect moment.

He growled, fangs still buried in her shoulder and his cock clamped in the vise of her pussy. His thrusts sped up. Pressing her down under him on the table as her orgasm washed through her in pleasure-inducing waves, he took her hard. Cock piston-like in the sheath of her slick cunt, he chased his own release.

It didn’t take long. Her pussy throbbed around him, tightening with each long roll of her own release and within seconds he disengaged his fangs. His breathing was ragged as he slammed into her harder, the sensation almost too much for her. Then he thrust one last time, bellowing as he buried himself and stiffened. His body shook behind her, as though every muscle pulled taut. Hands hard on her hips, he held her still. His cock pulsed, pumping his hot seed against her inner walls.

Their breathing rasped, the only sound in the room, as they both recovered. The storm of pleasure died down to ripples and then eased, leaving her with a feeling of satisfaction. Her limbs shook, weak after the sensations and energy he’d wrought from her.

“That was…” she murmured, hands flat on the table as she pushed herself up.

She’d never…never felt anything like that. Ever. Reaching a hand to her neck, she felt the marks of his possession written into her skin. The wound had already healed, cauterized by her hellhound’s touch. She couldn’t wait to see the mark in the mirror. A visual sign to all she was his.

“Perfect. That was perfect.” His voice was back to normal, albeit raspy with his recent release. Strong arms wrapped around her again, pulling her back against him into his embrace. His lips brushed against the mark on her shoulder. Gently. Reverently. “You were perfect. I love you, Reena. Have since the first moment I saw you, and now you’re all mine.”

“I am. I always was. And I always will be.” She smiled, tilting her head back to rest against his broad shoulder and breathed a sigh of contentment. “I love you, too. Man, wolf, or hellhound, doesn’t matter. To me, you’re just…mine.”

---