Falke’s Peak

When she let them go, the lacy thong fell free of one foot and caught on the other. Dakota dangled the flimsy material like a lure of water to a man dying of thirst. Then she met his gaze and grinned. “Have I told you how incredibly turned on I am by a man in nothing but leather?” As she spoke, she shoved his jeans farther down to pool around his ankles.

He blinked at her question. He wasn’t wearing leather pants. “Leather?”

Her gaze dropped to his collar, black leather bearing his family’s crest. With a sly grin, she nodded and hooked a finger in his collar, drawing him closer.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured against his lips.

“Nothing but leather.”

That did it. She was naughty and sweet, and sexy as hell. Even with human nostrils he could scent her arousal. Gunnar kissed her as if he’d perish without her, which he began to believe might be the case. He’d never needed a woman so much in his life. Finesse escaped him. He pushed all thoughts of responsibility to the farthest corner of his mind. His hands weren’t gentle as he wrapped them around her waist and pulled her hot, damp core against his belly. He demanded with his mouth that she give her all…and she did.

Tongue, teeth, nipping, biting, mewling like a kitten, panting like a tigress. Ah, yes…

“Please,” she said on a harsh breath when he grabbed her ass cheeks and lifted her from the counter.

Then she cried out when he shoved inside of her. She was so hot, so wet for him. Her inner muscles squeezed him, and he grunted as he slammed her back against the counter for leverage.

“More,” she begged, and so he gave her more, everything.

She gripped his neck, her head thrown back, her legs anchored around him. He leaned over her and drew one fat nipple between his teeth.

Dakota squealed and bucked against him, then fell back and whacked the back of her head against the wall. “Shit!” she cried, but her nails dug into his back and shoulders.

He lifted her, nearly toppling both of them to the floor because his pants were around his ankles, and she landed hard on the table, him over her. One of the stools crashed to the floor.

Her husky laugh sent a piercing shard of heat into his heart, and when she looked at him with that come- and-fuck-me grin, his knees damn near buckled. Her nails scored his sides, making him hiss, causing goose bumps to erupt across his back. She squeezed her inner muscles around his cock, and he groaned.

Gunnar pulled away, out of her, and flipped her over, her belly against the sturdy table. She had the cutest ass he’d ever seen, and he grabbed it with both hands then gave it a sharp little slap that made her squeal and wiggle.

“Don’t tease,” she said, laughing. She tossed her hair and looked over her shoulder at him.

He met her gaze, aligned his cock and plowed in to the hilt with one hard thrust.

She cried out. He didn’t stop. He rode her hard, fucking her with wild abandon. And, damn him, she felt perfect.

He slapped her ass again and she yelped. Another smack and stroke, and she hissed, “Yes.”

Dakota clawed at the tabletop, flailed for a handhold, until he grabbed her wrists, pulled them behind her back and bound her with one firm fist. His other hand at her shoulder, Gunnar pulled her toward him, held her steady, while he repeatedly bucked against her, rocking the table, ramming his cock as deep as humanly possible.

“Oh…oh, yeah. Yes. D-don’t stop,” she begged, not that he had any intention of doing so. He’d prefer this moment last forever, but all too soon his climax neared.

He struggled to hold it off a little longer, wanting to stay united flesh with flesh, needing this union to last.

Maintaining a tight grip on her wrists, Gunnar reached beneath her with his free hand and found her slick clit.

He pressed against it with the heel of his palm as he fucked her harder and harder with every stroke.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Her body tensed, she went up on tiptoes.

He slid his hand back, found that little bundle of nerves and pinched.

She screamed, and her body clamped down on him so tightly he thought he’d pass out. His orgasm struck with the force of a grizzly’s paw. Gunnar gritted his teeth, shoved into her body as deep as he could, and let himself go.

He had no time to revel in post-coital afterglow.

As soon as he came, his sanity returned, his senses restored, and he heard the telltale thud of catamount paws.

He glanced up and saw Axel peering into the window just feet from them. “Oh, fuck.”

Dakota giggled.

He tensed, knowing Axel would’ve roared if he could have.

Instead, his big brother deafened his mind with, Gunnar! And his ears with the most powerfully shrill cry of fury.

Gunnar pulled out of her sweet body and struggled to yank up his pants without falling on his ass.

“Where the hell is my shirt?” He couldn’t find it, and judging by the sounds coming from outside, he had little choice but to go without.

“What’s wrong?” Dakota straightened up, her tee still bunched up above her breasts and lacy panties caught around one ankle.

Reowww!

“Nothing. Stay here. I need to go…uh…check on Falke.”

Worry marred her face now as she pulled her shirt down, her panties up then ran to the window. She reached for her coat. He stopped her as he grabbed his own.

“No. I’ll be fine,” he said with a slight wince at the lie and a glance out the window to see Axel swipe, with claws bared, at a support post on the front porch.

Get the fuck out here, now, goddamn it!

He was a dead man.

“Stay here,” he repeated, trying not to cringe at the volume of Axel’s telepathic curses. “I’ll go see what has him so riled up and be back soon.” I hope.

Damn, he’d screwed up.

* * *

You fucking son of a bitch! Axel cursed when Gunnar cleared the doorway and shut the door behind him. He hissed, spat, growled. The ridge. Now!

Axel took off for the woods, and Gunnar strapped on the snowshoes still sitting on the porch from less than a half hour earlier. How was he going to get out of this one? Especially after all his talk about Axel not being able to control himself.

Damn, though, she’d been sweet.

He glanced at the window as he stepped into the snow to see Dakota there, watching him. He forced a smile and waved, then headed for the ridge, and his fate with his pissed off brother.

As soon as he cleared the trees, Axel demanded, Change. Now.

“Wait a second, Axel. Let’s be reasonable—” Axel took a swipe at him with bared claws, ripping into the heavy winter coat. Now, goddamn you. Shift!

After a moment of stunned silence, unable to believe his brother had swiped at him while he was still in human form, anger rushed through him deep and fast. “Fine!” He threw off the jacket and dropped his pants. In a flash, he shifted. Just as he finished the change, Axel was on him.

Gunnar’s cat legs tangled in the pants, boots and snowshoes, and he had to twist and contort to scramble out of them and avoid Axel’s snapping jaws. Stop, Axel. Hear me out!

Axel pounced, snapping his teeth in his face, digging his claws into his hide, as they rolled in the snow.

Gunnar broke free and faced off against his brother.

It took you all of five minutes, didn’t it? Axel demanded. You planned it. You wanted to pretend to be me so you could fuck her.

No! Gunnar protested. I didn’t tell you to run off.