Chapter 19
nineteen
DANE
If you dropped me in the middle of a desert with nothing but a ballpoint pen, I would have dinner on an open fire within an hour.
If someone kicked me out of a sky-diving plane without a life vest, threw my car into an ocean, or tied me to the back of a feral gorilla—I would find my way to safety before anyone even noticed I was missing.
I can kill a man with a paperclip. A penny. A cell-phone case. Give me a fork and I’ll kill three at once.
My life has prepared me for every type of unthinkable scenario.
But it takes standing over Briar Rose—hearing her offer up sex and submission like gold-wrapped truffles—for me to realize: nothing ever prepared me for this.
Something good.
A dream. Or fantasy. Hell, maybe even a wish.
Or all three, given that she looks like a goddamn goddess. And somehow smells like summer nights and Christmas mornings, all rolled into one.
Fucking hell, she is gorgeous. The tilt of her coal-lined eyes. Her shimmering jade irises. That luscious pink pout.
Do the stiff little nipples under this red silk match her mouth? Does she taste as tart and sweet as she smells?
What is wrong with me that I’m staring at her instead of finding out?
I came in here with a clear goal: tell her I understand how pissed she is about her situation, but make it clear I won’t be the punchline to her jokes.
Now she’s gazing at me, eyes full of the purest form of entreaty:
Fear.
Briar blinks to clear the mist glossing the verdant green, but it only reappears a second later. She glances away, clearly embarrassed. Something in my center loosens.
She doesn’t have one damn thing to be embarrassed by. Her father threw her to the wolves. All she’s done is try to survive with some sort of future for herself. And this, here? This is the moment she has to give up part of herself to get what she needs later on.
I don’t see any weakness in these tears. Only bravery.
The fact that they exist, that she’s letting me see them. I’ve underestimated her yet again.
That’s impressive. Especially when she exhales through her dainty nose and tosses her hair back, meeting my eyes while crystal droplets fall from hers.
It reminds me of the way she acted at the dinner table, ordering us around like bordello boys who live to service her. My lips flicker into a rueful smirk she can’t see, amusement and lust sparking in my veins while something heavy and thick scrapes my throat.
I cram the tangle of emotion down, focusing on the uncertainty spinning through her pretty irises. I can fix that.
I don’t know why her put-on confidence makes me hard, but she deserves to know.
With a quick flick of my hand, I balance on my left arm and snatch her palm with my right.
Before she notices I have her fingers in mine, I guide them to the inseam of my jeans, resting her touch against the ridge of my cock.
“Is this what you’re after, little girl?”
I watch her carefully, absorbing every flicker across her features. When I walked in, I didn’t much care what she wanted or didn’t. I thought she was mocking me and figured any sex between us would be an awkward chore.
Was I truly resigned to that just five minutes ago?
Because now, I won’t let her touch me unless she really wants it.
And I don’t know why.
The fresh scent of sugared black cherry makes it harder to think. Especially when she closes her fingers around my length and gives a careful squeeze.
“Yes,” she whispers, eyes blazing through tears. “I want it.”
My Alpha rages against that reply, concern pouring from him. I feel my forehead crease as I frown behind the mask. My hand finds the curve of her cheek, cupping her fine bones and porcelain skin. So breakable.
“Hey. Look at me.”
She already is, but I watch surprise leap in her gaze as I lean closer, lowering my voice to a stern murmur. “We don’t have to do this, Briar.”
She opens her mouth, but I pinch her chin softly, searing my stare into hers. “I mean it. I’ll leave right now and tell the others whatever you want. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”
Briar’s eyes bounce between mine. I can’t fathom what she’s thinking but her fear seems to shrink, leaving the glistening green pools warmer.
They trace what she can see of my face. Her tongue slowly swipes her lower lip as she reaches up to touch the titanium molded under my cheekbone.
“Will you take the mask off?” she asks, quiet but steady. Lust sparks in her gaze. “Or leave it on for me?”
Fucking—
My control doesn’t just snap. It dissolves.
My arms spring closed, ripping her off the velvet stool and into my panting chest. Briar goes limp, submitting and softening the second her nose finds the base of my throat.
She inhales my smoldering scent. And moans.
Fuck. Why isn’t she afraid? Doesn’t she know a man without control is just an animal?
I’ve never felt more like a predator than I do when she trembles and a burst of tart perfume floods the air. My canines pulse, a dizzying surge of pure carnal need shooting through my veins. Razing everything in its path, lighting every nerve.
I spin and haul her to the bed. Its enormous frame creaks when I tackle her onto the duvet. More of her scent wafts off the dark berry–colored covers rumpled under her.
Briar gasps and I rear back, an instinctive clench snapping at my stomach. But when I scan her face, I don’t find any pain—and I feel her press her naked core to the bulge running along my right thigh.
Holy God. Even through the worn denim, she’s hot and soaking. My chest rattles on a growl as my fingers follow my gaze, sliding down her silk-covered hip to trace the bare pussy lips shining in the room’s low light.
Her slick feels every bit as smooth as the fabric draped across her torso. It glides under my touch, beckoning me to the fluttering entrance gushing for more. My erection aches and my pulse pounds faster.
I dip one finger into her wetness. Feeling it clasp at me, begging for more. “Jesus, Briar,” I husk. “Is all this for me?”
The omega looks as dazed as I am. Her dark lashes flutter as she bites her lower lip. “I—yes.”
She’s shy like this. I didn’t expect that, but it’s the only other thing that could make me as hard as her queen-like confidence. The combination of one so soon after the other has me half-feral.
I clutch her hips and tug her closer, pressing the line of my cock against her slit. When I rub, she shivers under my palms and tugs at my shirt. A tentative question swirls in her eyes.
Hell.
“The scars on my face aren’t the worst of them,” I rough out. “You want me to keep the shirt on, little girl. Trust me.”
Her sexy-as-hell regal expression reappears. Telling me no, she doesn’t trust me. And she already knows exactly what she wants.
Pushing onto one elbow, Briar uses her free hand to reach past my shoulder and pull the Henley over my head. I don’t stop her, but my guts seethe. I clench my teeth. Bracing.
She’s about to scream. Struggle to escape. Get away from the beast as fast as possible.
Instead, her glimmering eyes gently roam over the wreckage, pausing on the more obvious burns. Puckered, swirled skin. Thick bands of mottled pink, darker splotches of discoloration that will never fade. And, eventually, the black ink tattooed over my unscathed left arm. Scars of my own design.
I already had half a sleeve before the accident; but, after, my body felt disturbingly uneven. I gradually wound up having everything from the left side of my collarbone to my wrist covered. Hoping it would restore some balance.
Briar lingers over every detail. The sweep of her gaze, touching parts of me no one else has in years… My stupid, desperate cock jerks. Like she’s ever going to want any of this.
“You’re so—” Briar stops and swallows. Icy arrows of dread swoop through my stomach. “Strong.”
My fingers curl tighter, dimpling her flesh. Disbelief spirals behind my sternum, landing in my middle with a hard thud. My eyes burn into hers. “What?”
“Your body,” she whispers, hesitantly placing her palm on my ravaged shoulder. “The muscles. The size. The tattoos. Even the scars. You just look… indestructible.”
I have to remind myself to keep breathing. Is this really her reaction? No screaming or squirming? Not even a wince?
I watch warily, waiting for everything to sink in. But she only glances lower, where I’m wedged between her creamy thighs. A shimmer gilds her gaze.
“You’re the biggest,” she murmurs, biting her lip. “Maybe I should have thought about that.”
It’s the second time I’ve felt the urge to chuckle because of her. Instead, I smile behind my mask and thumb the bitten curves of her mouth. “It will fit. Trust me.”
Briar flashes a small, beautiful smirk, sitting up. “You keep telling me to trust you,” she breathes, reaching for her hem. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
But she peels her nightgown off in one smooth motion, tossing it away. Leaving her naked under my touch. And completely at my mercy.