Jesus, she was so damned responsive, opening like a flower after the rain. He never knew a woman could be both sweet and sexy, vulnerable and yet a firecracker when treated right.

Latching on to her clit, he suckled until she trembled, started to unravel, and then moved to crouch on his knees between her legs, poised and ready. “You want this?” He wouldn’t take any woman for granted. She’d have to let him know what she wanted, with no chance for misunderstanding.

“I do, but . . .” She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her gaze.

“I can’t get any sexually transmitted diseases, nor pass any to you,” he said. “And I couldn’t make you pregnant unless we were mated. We’re still learning about our kind, but the doctors have confirmed that much. I would never risk a lover by not being sure.”

Kira nodded, looking relieved. “All right, then. Yes, please.”

“Please what? Say it.”

She flushed but didn’t look away. Her voice was thick with desire. “I want you inside me. Now.”

“My pleasure.”

Giving her a wicked grin, he rubbed his fingers along her folds, spreading the moisture. “You’re nice and wet. So hot and ready for me.” His cock throbbed.

She arched her hips. “Yes.”

Ignoring the twist of pain in his bad leg, he remained on his knees, and brought the head of his cock to her slit. Parted the slick flesh and began to guide himself into her heat. Cupping his hands under her bottom, he lifted her, shifted forward and drove his rod deep with a throaty growl of sheer bliss.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, angel.”

Her moan, the way she submitted to him, completely opening to his possessing of her body, electrified his blood. Where their bodies were joined, the connection sizzled, sent fire rushing along every nerve ending. His world narrowed to the delicious clasp of her silken sheath hugging his cock, the little blonde spread for the taking. For him.

Mine.

“Nobody’s but mine,” he told her, his tone brooking no argument. He didn’t know where the words came from, and the odd protective instinct confused him more and more. He didn’t know anything except how right she felt under him as he drove into her snug channel. Thrust, long and slow, all the way to the hilt, his balls hugging her ass. Out again.

“Ohh, Jax.” She clung to his shoulders, hooked her legs around his waist. “Oh, God, fuck me harder!”

He pumped with more force, careful not to hurt her. She met his passion with equal fervor, not seeming to mind it a bit rough. In fact, the sprite was stronger than she looked, evidenced by her hands digging into his muscles, giving as good as she got. When blunt little teeth sank into his shoulder, it was all he could do not to return the favor with his sharp canines.

But he wouldn’t stop with a gentle bite. No, he’d sink his fangs deep, and her blood would taste so fine . . .

His control shattered and he stiffened with a shout, emptying himself into her so hard he damn near turned inside out. His spasms were soon joined by Kira’s as she clutched at him with a cry, milking him until they both lay spent and panting.

After a minute, he moved off her, not wanting to crush her under his weight. As he did, he realized that while the maddening itch had subsided, it definitely wasn’t gone. With dread, he took stock, suspecting that the reprieve might be temporary. If it didn’t go away, he’d have to see Melina for a checkup whether he liked it or not.

He didn’t want to hear what he feared, deep down, she was going to say.

Rolling off the bed, he headed for the bathroom, aware of her gaze following his progress. He cleaned up quickly, cursing himself as lust cooled and reality set in. What a goddamned idiot he was for complicating things between himself and their new charge. What had he been thinking?

Simple—he wasn’t. He’d let his fifth leg do the thinking, and look where that got him.

Padding into the bedroom, he wondered what the hell to say. He sucked at small talk, and in truth, conversing had never been at the top of his agenda when a beautiful woman graced his bed.

Kira lay on her back, the sheet pulled modestly over her nakedness. She studied him with as much caution as he felt, as though uncertain what to say. But she gave it a stab. “You were fantastic. I feel like a limp noodle.”

He couldn’t help but puff up a bit. “Thanks. You were pretty incredible yourself.”

They stared at each other, an awkward silence stretching between them.

Sitting up, Kira sighed and shoved a strand of blond hair from her face. The sheet slipped to reveal one rosy nipple. “Look, this was fun, but don’t think I’m going to go all clingy on you. I realize we were two consenting adults blowing off some steam, and I’m fine with that.”

Jax stared at her, thrown for a loop. “What?”

“I mean, the last thing I intend to do is put a strain on your relationships around here, and in spite of what I said earlier about screwing my way through the team, I don’t plan on being the resident slut.” She slid out of bed and began to hunt for her clothes. “So this was great, but we’ll just leave it at that. Right?”

“Uh, sure.” He should be relieved she was letting him off the hook so easily. Why wasn’t he?

Locating her panties, she slid them on and reached for her bra. “And now that you’ve scratched your itch, I’m assuming the possessive ‘don’t let me smell another man’ thing shouldn’t be a problem for your wolf.”

He blinked at her. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Grabbing her borrowed jeans, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Asking, I suppose.”

Watching her dress, he stumbled over the question. Was he fine and dandy with the idea of her suddenly reeking of another man’s stench? With the knowledge that she’d been touched, pleasured, by someone else?

His wolf bristled, rumbling ominously inside him.

“I don’t know what came over me before,” he said, striving to sound casual. “It’s none of my business who you spend time with.”

His skin prickled, the burning itch worsening, the reprieve apparently coming to an end. His own words felt like acid on his tongue, and he stood like a statue, willing down his wolf’s rage. And it wasn’t only the beast that was unhappy, he realized—his very human side was pissed as hell at her calm dismissal of their fling and even worse, his own stupidity in agreeing with her.

“I’m glad we have that cleared up,” she said. But a flash of something that might’ve been hurt clouded her eyes, and then was hidden as she sat on the edge of the bed and bent to tie her sneakers.

At a loss, Jax pulled on his clothes as well, hiding his conflicting emotions. He knew she was right, that his possessiveness was nothing more than a by-product of his beast flexing its muscles, but for some reason it didn’t make him feel better.

“How did you hurt your leg? If you don’t mind my asking.”

He did mind, very much. But she was looking at him with such honest concern, not pity, that he found himself answering. “Six months ago, my team was ambushed and five of us were slaughtered. The mangled leg was my souvenir from that night. Guess I got lucky.” The bitter sarcasm in his voice wasn’t lost on either of them.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. Her eyes locked with his. “But I thought you said shifters were almost impossible to kill.”

“Almost being the operative word. But we were lured to an abandoned building, and lowered our guard when we saw it was unoccupied. The next thing we knew, bullets were flying. Silver ones.” Remembered horror had him swallowing hard.

Screams of agony, his friends falling. Writhing on the cold concrete floor.

Creatures unlike any they’d ever seen, conjured as though from the worst of their nightmares, swooping from the rafters. Screeching in salacious joy as they ripped through flesh and bone, tearing him apart.