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My fury wells up inside me and I shift, shredding my clothes. I bare my teeth as I prowl to them. I think of all the moments I missed, the time I could have spent getting to know my sister. All the women Grant damaged and traumatized.
The kill is so easy.
Elijah steps back, letting me take Grant’s body down to the ground. I tear out his throat first. I bite through skin and bone. I relish his screams until he can’t voice his pain anymore. I don’t stop there. I finish him, making sure he can’t come back. He can’t hurt anyone ever again.
Once again, I am standing in a pile of bones, flesh, and blood.
This time I shift back quickly.
I’m naked when I do and covered in blood.
“Sally,” Elijah calls while he takes off his shirt and covers me. “Go to the hotel and stay with her family. We will be there soon.” He grabs my hand and pulls me into his body. “The rest of you, leave.” His eyes bore into mine. “Now.”
They are swallowed up by the trees.
Elijah pushes me into the nearest tree and holds my wrists high above my head. The smell of him intoxicating me. My eyes travel over him. His jeans riding low on his hips, showing me thedelicious view of his muscular chest, and the vee leading to what I desperately want. His cowboy hat shadows his glowing eyes.
“Elijah,” I gasp.
“I am going to fuck you,” he says. “If you don’t want this, tell me now.”
I look at his gorgeous face so close to mine and smile.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elijah
“Do you want me?” Her smile is a sweet sign of permission but I need her words.
“Yes, Sir,” she says firmly.
“Leave your hands above your head. Do not move them.” I squeeze her wrists once before I let go. “I need you so fucking bad, baby.”
“Take me, Sir.”
I grin wickedly and slide my hand around her neck. “Do you know how difficult it was to let you do that? I had to wait, helpless to be near you.” It pained me, but she is a fierce warrior. Logan was correct; she is strong, and her cheetah is ruthless to those who want to hurt her.
“Yes.”
“It was such a rush when I saw you again.” I flex my fingers and her eyes heat. My Kitty Cat likes my style of love. “I got so hard seeing you kill that asshole. Does that make me sick?” I muse, not expecting an answer.
She gives me one anyway. “No,” she assures me. “Did you really kill his pack?”
The vibrations from her question make my hand tingle. “I did.”
“I’m glad you did. Does that make me sick?”
“Fuck no.” I release her delicate neck and move down between her breasts, feeling the heavy thud of her heartbeat. “Are you wet for me?”
“Why don’t you find out, Sir?” she dares.
I glide two fingers down further through my unbuttoned shirt and it falls open further. I reach her belly button but go no further. Instead I travel up again, circling her nipples that have become rock hard from the chilly wind and her need for her mate. She hisses when they pebble further at my attention.
“You are so stunning, holding still for me in nothing but my shirt. How did I get so lucky?” I repeat my path down. But again I stop. Over and over again.
“Please,” she whimpers.
I chuckle and decide to reward her. I tease her, slipping my fingers through the wetness that covers her, lightly—barely touching. My claws on my other hand dig into the bark by her head.
