God bless her. He was going to fuck her until she was begging for mercy. Right there on his desk if she wasn’t damned careful.
“Your punishment is a week in my bed, every night, eight hours, while I’m sleeping. Beginning tonight.”
“I’m returning to Haven, along with my security force.” Her voice was strangled. “You can’t order me anywhere.”
“Check our separation agreement,” he suggested casually as he scrawled his signature on the document and sent it to Brim. “While I’m here you’re only allowed off this base if your safety and security isn’t endangered. I’ve deemed both in jeopardy. My report was filed no more than an hour ago with the members of the tribunal and has been returned with their agreements.” He lifted his head. “As for sleeping in my bed, yes, Mate, I can order that as well under the same conditions. I’m certain you’ll consider that your punishment, rather than your reward for actually managing to stay alive.”
He pushed the e-pad to the side and watched as her breasts heaved, her nipples spiked. Caffeine and anger. They were a destructive combination with the mating heat and he knew it. Keep her pissed off enough, he might get a chance at that kiss that he was dying for.
“You’re not serious!” she exclaimed. Her blue eyes were shocked. Her face was flushed.
Oh, he was serious. As serious as the hard dick in his pants.
“Give me forty minutes, cupcake.” He smiled back at her. “And I’ll let you go bitch about it to the lupina while Dr. Armani is upping your hormones. I can smell your arousal. I like it.”
Her fingers curled at her sides. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Nope, not this week,” he laughed back at her. “I’m really pretty sane for me right now. Ask Brim, he can tell you, sometimes I’m actually trying to have fun.”
Anya stared back at him in outraged amazement. The man took idiocy to a new level. He was sitting there grinning at her as though he were actually having fun. Calling her “cupcake.” She was going to poison his cupcake if he didn’t find a measure of intelligence in that thick skull of his.
“Look.” She tried for calm. “You can’t take Ashley’s allowance. Getting her nails fixed, buying her shoes and girly stuff keeps her grounded. Emma will break everything in the kitchen if you put her in there. And Sharone will end up shooting Brim. Not that he won’t deserve it. But I’d prefer she not have to deal with the guilt later.”
He relaxed farther back in his chair, lifted those long, powerful legs and propped them on the corner of his desk as he stared back at her, his lashes lowered over his eyes.
“If Sharone shoots him, then he’ll have deserved it.” He shrugged. “As for Emma, inform her if she breaks anything I’ll add a week. And Ashley will survive without her nail treatments for a while. It will remind all of them who the alpha is around here.”
His smile was all teeth as he crossed his arms over his chest and let his gaze drift down her body.
And she felt it, almost as though it were a phantom touching her.
“I will not sleep with you either,” she bit out. “Get it out of your mind.”
“Fine. I’ll sleep in your bed with you.” He shrugged. “Either way, you’re gonna be my cuddle bunny for a week. It gets damned cold at night for some reason, Coya. You can keep me warm.”
His what? His cuddle bunny?
“Oh, you are so reaching,” she said scathingly. “Warm your ass on a brick, because it’s not getting in my bed.”
“It’s not my ass that gets cold,” he laughed. “Come on now, my little coya. What’s wrong, afraid you’ll have another of those hot little dreams and let me actually get a taste of that wet little pussy?” His gaze dropped to her thighs. “I’ll make sure you’re awake for it. I’m a gentleman like that.”
“You’re a sorry excuse for a Breed and an even sorrier excuse for a mate,” she snarled. “How dare you order me to sleep with you. You didn’t buy me off the street, you crackpot.”
His brows lifted. “I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap. Be civil or we’ll try for two weeks.”
“You bastard!”
“Three?”
She was shaking. Anya couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had been more furious. It swept over her like a tidal wave, slammed inside her and sent heat searing her insides for vital seconds.
She stumbled against the onslaught, almost gasping as it peaked in her clit and sent a shot of pain racing through her system.
“Anya!”
Del-Rey’s chair slammed into the wall as he tore from his seat and raced to her, catching her before she hit the floor. Her face was suddenly pale, sweat gleaming on her forehead as her blue eyes stared back at him in stark pain.
“Brim!” He tore the door open as he held her to him, then picked her up in his arms.
Brim and Sharone raced from Command as Emma and Ashley moved from the lounge, fear flashing across the girls’ faces.
“I need transport,” he called out. “Contact Armani and tell her to be waiting at the door.”
Anya moaned, a low, pain-filled sound as she tried to curl against him. Sweet God in heaven.
What the hell was wrong? He ran for the base exit as Brim shouted out orders for his personal security detail to be waiting. Behind him, Anya’s friends followed, weapons being strapped on as they ran, concern filling the air with a dark, fear-tainted scent.
What the hell had happened? One minute she was sniping at him and the next she was nearly passing out from pain? This wasn’t mating heat. Mating heat didn’t do this. He’d researched that fucking curse and it simply didn’t do this.
“Del-Rey.” Her voice was weak as he stepped through the doors swinging open into the late evening air. “What’s wrong with me?”
Fear filled her voice as her body tensed. Del-Rey swore he felt the pain that tore through her slight body. She moaned, her forehead pressing into his shoulder as a Coyote threw open the passenger door to the all-terrain/all-duty vehicle they used on the rough passes they called roads.
Sharone, Emma and Ashley jumped in through the back access door and braced themselves as the soldier moved quickly behind the wheel and set the vehicle into motion.
“Hurry, Martin,” he ordered the Breed furiously as Anya moaned again. “Get us to Haven as fast you can get through those fucking passes.”
He held her tighter, wishing he could take the pain, hating the cold sweat that gleamed on her pale face as he braced her against his broader body for the rough ride into the valley.
Each time she flinched, gripped her stomach and cried out from the pain, he swore he lost a part of his control. He was enraged, fury roaring through his veins and, yes, fear tearing through his mind. Nothing could happen to her. God, nothing could happen to her, because Del-Rey knew, if anything did, he would lose himself.
Anya had never felt anything like the agony undulating in her lower stomach. She swore it felt as though something were being ripped out of her body in pulsing waves. Ice lashed at her, then heat. She was sweating and she was freezing everywhere except where Del-Rey was touching her.
What the hell had happened? She remembered the anger coursing through her, tasting it in her mouth, wanting to claw his eyes out. Then she remembered the wave of heat that swamped her an instant before the pain began clawing through her system, and the ride down the mountain at breakneck speed before Del-Rey rushed her into Armani’s examining room.
She was breathing through another wave of pain when the doctor’s gloved hands touched her arm. Excruciating, unbelievable pain ripped through her, causing her to cry out as she fought to get away.
She heard a snarl filled with fury. That was Ashley. She opened her eyes to see the three women in front of the bed, bodies braced as the sound echoed around her of a door crashing in on the room.