Page 129 of Those Who Are Bound

Shifting on the stump, she shook her head. “This isn’t a case of me being a Baptist and you’re Catholic. You’re, like, the leader. And I don’t believe in any of it at all. I’m anatheist.The entire concept is laughable to me.”

Jonah frowned and nodded, looking again to the scattered rocks.

“So, you see? You… believe in something that I equate to Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, if I’m even forced to think about it at all. Which, I don’t.”

Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance. She tilted her head back as she looked up at him. “I’ll be suspicious that you staying in a relationship will only be because you want to save me, and I’m not interested in being saved.” Yep, she threw him right under that bus and turned this around on him.

Was religion surmountable? Yes. But it was all she had as ammunition.

He knelt, taking the beer from her. That they’d played this exact scene out before struck them both at the same time, and they shared a smile. There was a recognition of intimacy. The beer was at least cold this time. It made her heart fracture a bit more.

After taking his drink, he observed her carefully. “Saying something like that leads me to think you can be saved.”

Elliott groaned. “No, that’s the problem. I don’tneedto be saved. That’s not a thing for me.”

Setting the bottle aside, he caressed her shins, staring up at her in concern. “Who hurt you?”

Disappointment in the question rolled over her. “Because that has to be it, right? I’m damaged. That’s the only reason you can come up with for why I’m not a fervent believer? That is so arrogant, so narcissistic.”

Jonah shook his head. “It was a question, not an accusation.” Studying her, he continued his caress of her shins, thighs; he was stoking flames that he had no business lighting, and she was trying hard to ignore his hands on her.

“Belief systems aside, Elliott, how do you feel aboutme?”

Damn, that wasn’t a fair question. “Jonah…”

“You, me, just us.”

She leaned forward and evaded the question. “It’s a nice thought, but I have a feeling that it’s not just you and me anymore. It is you, me, and the expectations we’re both going to have around this. And everyone else.”

“Everyone else? Who do you think has a say in our relationship?”

Elliott made a face. “Your god? Your followers? Doesn’t God have a plan for you? Aren’t you supposed to marry a righteous woman? Because that’s not me. Or, maybe you’ll justify it along the lines of the story of Job: you have to suffer me to prove your faith.”

His expression would have been comical if not for the tension. He looked impressed that she knew the bible story, but he was pissed about the accusation. “You’re a little jaded.”

“I’m not jaded. I’m not interested in becoming your project. I won’t bend. And I won’t stop challenging you because it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Jonah shook his head. “You aren’t a project. That’s not why I’m with you. I don’t need a new parishioner, I’m looking for a mate, a partner.”

“I’m not that; we don’t match.”

“I don’t need religion from you; I don’t need you to believe in it. I just need you to not disparage it. I’m confident in who I am and what I believe. You can’t shake that. So go ahead: challenge me. I welcome it. I’m not afraid of it.”

In the back of her mind, she saw her demon in its dragon form lunge against its chains. She both collapsed internally and rallied: the collapse was from fear of what he was asking; the rally was from the excitement of his dare.

She slid from the stump and onto his lap, straddling him. With her arms around his neck, she looked him in the eyes as she rolled her pelvis, rubbing against him. His breath caught as he watched her face, trying to read her intentions, but he settled his hands on her hips, stabilizing her. Leaning forward, she nipped at his lips, biting lightly. “I always take the dare, Jonah. You know that.” Grind, swivel. The result of her actions swelled beneath her.

He chuckled through his breathlessness. “I’m looking forward to the battle of wills, kitten.” He tried to nip her back, but she dodged his mouth. He scowled at being denied.

Gripping the back of his neck, she scolded, “You asked for this by holding out on me—” When he opened his mouth to speak, she tightened her hold on the back of his neck, silencing him. She dropped her head forward onto his, her body a sheet of flames. She rode him hard through their clothes. He’d challenged her, and she demanded this sacrifice of him.

He gripped her waist, his fingers digging in; he jerked under her as she ground herself frantically against him. “Take what you need.”

Elliott grazed her teeth over his neck. Hottest fucking words ever spoken, from a man allowing her to use him as a humping post. He was panting with her, shaking, meeting her mouth when she demanded his lips. He offered his neck when she ran her tongue over it, tasting the salt of his sweat. His groans were full of torment, but he submitted to her will.

When she bucked against him, losing her mind in the headspace of lust, she begged, “I need more. I need more.”

Her wolf returned and promised, “I’ll give you more.”

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