Yet by the time they pulled into a driveway, Paige could barely keep her eyes open. She knew she should be more anxious, but her body refused to acknowledge the tumult inside her. It was as if she'd simply shut down. She didn't stir when Hale opened the garage, nor did she move when he pulled in and finally stopped the car.
Paige felt his hand on her head, his fingers sliding through her hair, stroking with a gentleness that soothed her.
“You've had a long day, sweetheart.” He exhaled a long, deep breath. “Let's put off what we should do today until tomorrow.” He left the SUV and opened her door.
Taking her in his arms, he carried her as if she weighed nothing, no mean feat for a man only a few inches taller than herself.
Strangely content, she snuggled deeper into his embrace, giving over to the strong male carrying her. He smelled right, and when she instinctively licked his neck to sense more, she felt as if she'd come home. Vibrations lulled her into a trancelike state.
“Holy hell, you're purring.” He hugged her tighter. “That's it, Paige. Settle next to me. I'll keep you safe.” Hale walked with her in his arms and murmured, “God, you smell good.”
So do you. She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck and surrendered to sleep as her worries faded into nothing, her mate by her side.
McKinley hadn't come this far to falter because he couldn't keep his hormones under control. He forced himself to ignore a svelte prostitute eyeing him like her next meal. He wanted to take what he needed, to fuck her hard right there against the wall no matter who watched or how much pain he caused. Her tight little ass swayed back and forth as she strutted down the alley being trolled by the darker side of life. By people like him.
He adjusted the glasses hiding his eyes and walked faster toward his destination.
A quick phone call had guaranteed they'd admit him. Ignoring the dull pain in his ribs and the burn in his thighs, he made several more turns on the off chance anyone had managed to still trail him. He'd run hard these last few miles after ditching the car. But now he was in the clear and able to take care of business, as he hadn't been able to before. He made a left onto a nearly deserted street in this bad section of the city, toward what looked like a dilapidated brownstone.
Christ, he needed a short respite from his iron-hard cock. The urge to thrust into something, to pound and pound until he came, was excruciating. As much as he longed to have Paige in his arms and in his bed, he knew it could never be. Just the thought of taking from her what he needed made him ill. Sweet, gentle Paige would never talk to him again if he did to her what he really wanted to.
Perverted, unclean, deviant.
Shaking off his self-disgust, he focused on sating the demon raging inside him.
Though he never changed, he too suffered from an extreme type of mating heat. Oddly enough, being around Paige simultaneously exacerbated and pacified his hungers. He craved the feel of her pussy gloving him, while he took comfort in just holding her close. His inner beast loved her, recognized her as his, no matter that his body couldn't.
He had recently satisfied his urges, but this last visit by Rogers and Paige had to be stirring him. Add the recent excitement of nearly becoming another mutant at the labs, and it was no wonder his hormones were all over the place. The beast that owned him demanded a cease to the constant struggle for dominance. Sexually, the beast ruled.
And McKinley knew better than to delay the inevitable.
He rubbed his aching cock as he ascended the small set of stairs leading to the building he sought. Before he'd reached the door, it opened into darkness.
A huge man encased in leather waited until McKinley entered, then he closed and locked the door behind him. “The basement. Room two.” McKinley had been here before, when too many visits with Paige forced him to desperation. He passed unfamiliar faces, smelled the stench of stale sweat, fear, and blood, and felt more than dirty as he trudged down the stairs. He found room two and entered, closing the door behind him. Three large, naked men stood motionless, their feet shoulder-width apart, their eyes glued to the ground. They were extremely well hung, clean—a mandatory requirement—and muscular enough to withstand the night's play.
A part of him cried out not to do this, not to degrade himself again with humans who couldn't really satisfy him. But he was too close to temptation. His beast locked on to the sexual prey before him and refused to leave. Time to start the show.
“You three think you can take me? That you can fuck me into submission?” he growled. The challenge.
“Yes,” they said as one.
“Show me.”
They rushed him en masse. The blond men moved too quickly, their steps jerky as they telegraphed their movements. McKinley would have enjoyed their dance more if he weren't so damned hard. He allowed two of them to hold him while the dark-haired male, the most dangerous of the three, hammered him with blows and stripped him to nothing, including his sunglasses. None of them mentioned his odd-looking eyes, probably used to the fetishes and strange costuming of the men who enjoyed this particular club.
He waited while the others took their turns beating him until he bled. The violence relieved a small part of his hungers, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
When the dark-haired male ordered him to his knees, McKinley took action. “No,” he growled and shook free of the men on either side of him.
The leader dealt him an open-handed blow to his face. McKinley tasted blood and grinned. “Is that all you've got?”
Angered, the leader motioned to the others and the fight commenced in earnest.
Reveling in the brutality he let loose in small starts, McKinley ended the fight all too soon by knocking one of the blonds unconscious. The other lay on the ground moaning, favoring his ribs while he stroked his cock, amped on the pain. The leader's left eye swelled, and he already had bruising on his thigh from a particularly tough hit McKinley had purposefully pulled too late. He also had the hard-on from hell, like McKinley.
“So it's just you and me,” the man said, still crouched on the balls of his feet. He studied McKinley, shifting his gaze to McKinley's monstrous cock. “If you think I'm taking that up my ass, you're out of your fucking mind.” McKinley gave him a closemouthed smile, hiding his extending canines. The man's wet cock said otherwise. He'd been stimulated by the aggression they'd shared, and he wanted more. But first, McKinley needed to sate his beast so he wouldn't damage his opponent beyond repair.
Moving quickly, McKinley feinted right and stepped left, hitting him hard enough in the temple to temporarily knock him unconscious. He placed his opponent belly down over a raised table and spread his thighs wide. The table was the perfect height, high enough to reach McKinley's hips. Attaching cuffs to the man's ankles and dangling wrists, he clipped the cuffs to the chains already mounted on the floor. A warrior's prize, waiting to be tasted.
A groan from behind him took McKinley's attention. Leaving his prize for the moment, he sought the other two. The unconscious blond stirred. Not wanting to deal with him, McKinley hefted him easily over his shoulder. He opened the door to his room and signaled for assistance. In seconds, two of the management arrived to take the groggy male off his hands.
Used to such sights, they left quietly with the man in tow. McKinley returned to the room, his wounds already healing.
“Your ribs sore?” he asked the blond trying to rise to his feet.
“Yeah.”