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Fascinating. Zephyr had never really given any thought to sex workers or fights, much less the entire industry, and now questions whirled in her head.

“What happened to the girl, Nala’s daughter?” Zephyr asked.

“She died.”

“I’m sorry.”

The dogs trotted to the table, quietly sitting on the side while their eyes stayed up on the food.

“And these three?” Zephyr smiled at the dogs, taking a bite of the bread. Damn, it was amazing. She made a sound out loud, and Alpha cleared his throat.

“I found them about four years ago,” he hesitated, contemplating something. “There had been an underground dogfight. I’d gone to meet an informant. These three—” he indicated the canines with his fork “—had been dumped in an alley. It was a cold night and they’d been crying, so I took them to my car just to warm them up. Couldn’t let them go after.”

She went soft. He was a protector, he always had been. That was one of the things she’d loved the most about him.

She extended her hand and touched his, her skin loving the sensation of his, and gave his fingers a squeeze. “You’re a good man.”

Alpha pulled his hand away. “Don’t look at me with those stars in your eyes, Zephyr. You’re fooling yourself if you think I’m anything but a beast under this skin.”

Zephyr raised her wine glass to him. “Then the world needs more beasts like you.”

His golden eye flared, the unscarred side of his mouth turning down at her defiance of his belief. His dark scruff caught her eye, and she wondered for the hundredth time how it would feel on her skin. Her breath caught, and she saw his fingers tighten over his fork.

“This feels like a date,” she breathed.

“It’s not a date.”

Stubborn man. She would break him yet.

“Whatever you say, sexy.”

He didn’t respond to that, just quietened down and quickly finished his food. He was up and clearing his dishes before she was done, rushing out of the room with a gruff ‘goodnight’ thrown her way, the dogs seeing him leave and settling down in the living room.

Zephyr sighed and finished eating, texting Zen about the day to keep herself from feeling alone. After she was done, she cleared up and walked up the stairs, the motion-sensor lights automatically dimming as she left.

His bedroom door was shut tight as she went to her room, the connecting door closed too.

Zephyr undid her robe and put it on the dresser, lowered the netting around the bed, and got in, staring at the ceiling fan slowly circulating the air in the room.

She picked up her vibrator from the side, her nipples tight in the cool air with arousal, and finally turned it on. The quiet buzz filled the room as she closed her eyes, sliding her hands under her panties, her wetness meeting her fingers.

She exhaled, palming her breast with one hand, remembering the way he’d pulled her hair back during their kiss. She let her mind drift to old times when he’d stared at her hotly with both his golden eyes on fire, when he’d kissed her softly, his mouth exploratory, his hands tender on her young breasts. She doubted he’d be tender now with the way he watched her. No, he’d pull her hair and smack her ass and impale her on his cock, whispering filthy things to her as she tried to fit him in.

Her heartbeat picked up at the fantasy, her fingers penetrating her shallowly as she placed her vibrator on her clit, a quiet moan escaping her mouth as the device shot the pleasure through her.

She kept her eyes closed, stuck in the fantasy, remembering the words he'd threatened her with at his office, her mind making it more profane. He’d hold her hair in a ponytail, pulling her head back until he could kiss her upside, thrusting into her so deep the motion would push her up the bed, her sensitive nipples scraping over the sheets, but his hold on her hair would keep her in place.

Oh god.

She tried to push deeper with her fingers, her hands making a wet, filthy noise as she fucked herself, imagining it was him as she drenched the sheets with arousal, pressing the vibrator harder on her clit as pleasure zinged through her body, on the precipice of an orgasm but not quite there yet.

A noise from her side suddenly had her eyes flying open, her heart pounding as she watched the shirtless mass of a man lean over her with one hand by her head, his golden eye focused on her like a hawk about to swoop down on his feast.

She hovered on the edge of the orgasm, knowing she needed more, needed him, and she had no shame in asking him for it. “Please,” she begged, her body writhing on the bed.

“Give me a taste,” he commanded, and she brought her hand to his mouth, touching his scar, coating his lips in her essence before his mouth sucked her fingers in, in a deep pull that she could feel in her nipples, in her stomach, in her core as her walls clenched emptily around nothing. He swirled his tongue around her fingers, his eyes hot, and she felt the motion on her clit where the vibrator was pressed.

“Oh god,” she moaned, biting her lips.

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