Page 79 of Pistols & Peonies

“I was thinking I was about to get a huge payout,” she snarls, fury radiating off her. “Did you follow me here? Are you fucking stalking me now?”

“I’m here on official pack business,” I say, voice low and dangerous. “This place is unsanctioned. Everyone out there could be hauled in for questioning. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

She scoffs a bitter laugh. “What, you gonna rat me out to Alpha?”

I fold my arms, glaring down at her. “Maybe I should. It’d be the fastest way to keep you out of trouble, since you seem hellbent on trying to get yourself killed.”

Her eyes go wide, then narrow to slits. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Try me, mate.” I lean in close, the tips of our noses almost brushing. “Grab your shit, you’re done here. This was your last fight.”

She plants her palms against my chest, shoving me hard, but I don’t budge. She shouts in frustration, but I just plant my feet and let her push until she exhausts herself, hands fisted in the front of my hoodie.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she snarls, teeth bared. “You’re not my fucking father, you’re not my Alpha, you’re not–”

Something snaps inside me. I wrap a hand around her throat, pivoting to slam her back against the wall. She gasps, clawing at my hand, but I just hold her there firmly, my other hand gripping her hip.

“You are mine,” I snarl. “And I’m done letting you put yourself in harm’s way.”

Her blue eyes blaze with defiance, but she pushes into my hand like she enjoys the pressure, the scent of her arousal flooding the space between us.

“You want a fight?” I ask, voice gone rough. “I’ll give you one. Every fuckin’ day, until you stop treating your life like it’s disposable.”

Her pupils dilate, breath coming hard and fast.

“You’re my mate,” I rasp, flexing my grip around her throat. “Mine.”

I slam my mouth down over hers, fury and relief tangling into something reckless. The kiss is desperate, punishing, fueled by the image of her fighting in that ring. She meets me with equal fire, her hands bracketing my face to drag me down to her level, teeth catching my lip and drawing blood. The sting only feeds the heat coiling between us, turning anger into something hotter.

I grip her neck tighter, then release her, dragging my hand down to her breast and squeezing until she moans into my mouth. Her back arches, fingers twisting in the fabric of my hoodie. She yanks it up and over my head, my hat coming off with it, then frantically claws at the shirt underneath. I grab the hem and pull it off, tossing it to the floor while she shoves her shorts down and kicks them away.

She’s on me instantly, raking her nails down my chest, legs hitching around my waist. I lift her and slam her back against the wall, hooking my thumb in her panties and ripping them in half with a single pull. She grabs at my jeans, unzipping and yanking them down just enough.

I’m so hard it’s fucking painful. I can scent how wet she is, and my mind goes blank to everything except the overwhelming, feral need to claim her. I line up and thrust inside in one savage motion, burying myself deep in her tight cunt.

She screams, muscles tensing at the intrusion, nails digging into my biceps. A savage growl rumbles in my chest as I start to move, barely giving her time to adjust. Not that she needs it. She’s slick and ready, bucking her hips, the locker room filling with the sound of skin slapping and our breathless gasps.

Distantly, I hear someone start pounding on the locker room door, but I’m so lost to the moment that it barely even registers. A female voice calls Violet’s name and she answers with a strangled moan, calling out to whoever it is that she’s busy.

Damn right she is.

I fuck her hard, punishing, not out of anger but necessity. I need this– need to exert my control, need to remind her what it feels like to surrender to me. My wolf’s so close to the surface I can feel the heat writhing underneath my skin, overwhelming me with the urge to claim her in every way possible.

She’s right there with me, clawing and bucking, matching me thrust for thrust. “Harder, Kane,” she pants, grinding against me like a cat in heat. “C’mon, is that all you’ve got?”

I scoop her wrists into one hand, pinning them above her head and slamming into her relentlessly. Her whole body tenses, and she comes with a choked gasp, legs trembling around my waist. I pause my thrusts, watching her unravel, and the sight of her like this– flushed and breathless, wild and uninhibited– nearly pushes me over the edge.

But then something else happens.

My gums tingle. My teeth ache. Pressure builds in my jaw, and the next thing I know, my canines descend, the sharp tips pressing into my lower lip.

I want to bite her.

No, not just want. Need.

I lower my mouth to the crook of her neck instinctively, and she feels it, jerking her head back.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of my canines poking through. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she hisses, voice trembling.