Page 75 of Immortal Burden

I knew why he was surprised. I wasn’t seen as the wild type. Werewolves had a predatory streak that made them horrifically violent with their enemies and passionately aggressive with their lovers. I favored slow and easy, tender and sensual. It was all I could allow to ensure I always maintained control. Ryker was the only man I’d trusted to give me that and not press for more. Because he knew what I was. He understood the consequences if I lost it.

But just the idea of Jaxon being close had me yearning to cast off those century-old shackles, consequences be damned.

“Alpha,” Lucian snarled suddenly, rising into a primed crouch.

The door through which I’d entered earlier flew open, the hefty lock be damned.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ryker flick his wrist down, the universal sign that a magic-wielder was preparing for imminent battle, calling forth their magic.

Vibrant green energy sparked, but then died an instant death.

I attempted it too and experienced the same result.

In this place we were both powerless. I saw his alarm that mirrored my own.

A rush of hot air rushed through the room.

Lucian vamped-out.

And then a blur of movement rushed us. It was barely perceptible to the naked eye.

The bed shook, the blur dissipating as the visitor returned to a still state.

My heart leapt into my throat as I looked up to see Jaxon standing above us, barefoot and shirtless, his muscles rippling, a sheen of sweat slicking his skin, from the sheer ferocity emanating from him that he was clearly struggling to keep in check.

Ripped blue jeans clung to his muscular legs.

A memory of them fought to breach the surface, but, as before, it slipped away as quickly as it had come upon me.

“Princess,” he uttered on a rumble.

I attempted to rise up to go to him, to reassure him, to try to help him check his rage. But Lucian and Ryker’s hands came down on my shoulders, holding me at bay.

I could tell from their gentle touch that they meant it as a protective gesture.

But in his furor, Jaxon misread it as aggression.

Or, perhaps all he was seeing was their attempt to keep me from him.

“Mine!” he roared, smashing his fist into his palm, his eyes drilling into Lucian, completely ignoring Ryker.

He was focusing on the greatest threat in the room. With Ryker’s magic unable to be called, that was Lucian, the Ancient, infamous vampire warrior.

“I won’t let another fucker keep me from her!” Jaxon thundered.

He suddenly burst forward, yanked me from Lucian and Ryker and whisked me off the bed over to the other side of the room.

“I can smell it. So fucking needy,” he rumbled, shoving me up against the wall, his body covering mine. “But I need to hear you say it.”

I could barely breathe, let alone fathom uttering actual coherent words.

Between him knocking the wind out of me in a major way with his supernatural speed and the engulfing haze of sexual desire that had becoming unbearable since he’d burst in, I was feeling more than a little off balance.

“Say… what?” I managed to eke out.

One of his hands left my waist and trailed down between us. I jerked against him as his thumb brushed over my clit. “This,” he spoke on a husky breath, spreading my wetness everywhere, saturating my clit. “Is this for me? Or is it all their doing? You want me, or are you still running?”

“Oh God,” I gasped as his fingers quickened.

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