Nash
She’s all mating scent and greedy hands roving over my sweat slicked body.
“You came. You watched the fight.”
“Yes.” She rocks against me. “Yes. I have to have you.”
Even with her mouth against mine, my thoughts stray. She saw me at my worst, most violent, my animal out and wild.
“Denali, please—”
“I need you,” she pants. “I need you.”
I stop trying to make sense of it. I hitch up her skirt and suck in a breath. She’s not wearing panties. f**k, she’s not wearing anything but a tiny strip of fabric over her breasts and another one around her hips. Her skin is warm and smooth and clean, and I could die happy. Maybe I did. Maybe I died in the cell and now I’m in heaven.
“King of the beasts.” She nuzzles me, like a cat begging to be stroked.
“Only if you’re my queen,” I growl and
