Bad Decisions

bad decisions

“ S o your grandmother basically raised you?” I say as I wipe the remnants of the delicious sauce off of my chin.

Lucas’s eyes dance as he watches me. “Yep. My folks are… exactly what one would imagine for trust fund kids who got married. Nana took over, so I wasn’t being parented only by nannies and au pairs.”

I think about how lonely that would be, especially if he was automatically suspicious of all his peers because of the Wolfenberg family fortune. My brow furrows and I tilt my head. “Why is your name Wolfberg and your grandmother’s is Wolfenberg?”

“She’s the matriarchal grandmother. And yes, a lot of the families are intertwined from a bunch of inter-marriages centuries ago. It’s sort of like two dudes named Travis getting married and having the same name.” His grin is playful as he bobs his brows. “I’ve never been worried about what will happen with that because I told Nana I’m not continuing that bullshit. I’ll date or mate or marry with whomever I want and we’ll negotiate that when I make my choice.”

My face flushes bright red when I realize he’s being very purposeful with that information. Obviously, I didn’t mean for my curious question to lead there , but I’m sure some women fish in that pond early on to test their chances. “I guess I’m lucky my parents were never concerned with family lineage because their money is ‘new money.’ They never liked Magnus, though, and boy, does my mom love to remind me how right she was.”

Lucas reaches over and picks up the chianti bottle, pouring me another glass before he replies. “So she has excellent instincts—that’s good to know. How are your parents dealing with the whole… trial and punishment thing?”

Looking down at my plate, I shrug. I’ve done my best to keep them out of my mess and it’s been convenient that they live in that chic retirement community with gates and security. Paparazzi and lookie-loos can’t get in and they don’t get constantly hounded; it’s something I’m incredibly grateful for. “My dad supports me entirely; my mother thinks I should have made better choices. However, they’re not disowning me or withdrawing support. Mom is just tired of people quizzing her all the time—gossip and such in their neighborhood. It disrupts her joie de vivre , as she calls it.”

“Interesting. I wondered why they weren’t at the trial—hearing they disagree on their support makes that understandable,” he says as he leans back in his chair.

“No!” I shake my head. “I asked them to stay away. Magnus made poor decisions, and I did what I had to. No one besides the two of us should suffer the consequences of those actions.”

“Ah, but you are the only one suffering, Morgana. He’s dead, and you faced all the censure, plus they have sentenced you to cleaning up his fucking mess. How is that fair?” His features tighten and I realize he means it—he doesn’t think they should punish me this way.

How odd. No one reacts this way.

I let my gaze move to his hands, then up his arms, and finally to his chest before looking him in the eye. “It’s not fair, but neither is life. There’s always a price to pay for vengeance; my mother is a witch, and she’s been preaching that my whole life. You can have your justice, but you can’t run from the blowback.”

He rubs his hand over his face and then shakes his head, looking frustrated. “I don’t believe you killed the creepy ass fucker just because he cheated on you. I know there’s more—which means you’re doing penance you don’t deserve. It doesn’t sit well with me, Morgana.”

This fucking guy—it’s like he can read me, but he’s a shifter, not a mind bender.

“Why do you say that?” I ask as I twirl the stem of my wine glass nonchalantly.

Pushing to his feet, Lucas stands and holds a hand out. I try to ignore the urge to do as he wants, but my body has a mind of its own. When I’m standing in front of him, mere inches from his frame, the polar bear shifter brushes the hair away from my face as he looks down at me. The heat from our bodies is making me tingle and I have to actively work to keep my eyes open. It’s been so long since… everything. I haven’t been this close to a man since well before the trial.

“Because something about you clicks for me, Morgana. I don’t know why, but the minute you walked into the locker room, it slid into place. It was damn near impossible to focus on the dead body and the goddamned police station for all those hours.” His hands land on my waist, tugging me forward until I’m pressed against him in a way that makes it impossible to misconstrue how he feels.

“Lucas,” I say as I put my palms on his chest. “Maybe it’s the thrill of something forbidden. You’re young, and based on how you behave, I doubt you’ve really had many serious?—”

A hungry kiss cuts off the flow of my protests and my arms slide up behind his neck of their own volition. Our tongues tangle and teeth clash as the pent-up tension between us is finally unleashed. Large hands slip from my waist over my ass to my thighs and he lifts me up without the slightest bit of effort. My brain screams ‘bad idea,’ but my thighs wrap around his hips and squeeze. I can feel his erection through my thin suit pants and even though I know better, I rock against him as we kiss until we’re breathless.

I’ve never been good at listening to my logical inner voice—it’s what landed me here.

When our lips break for air, my eyes meet his and something in his gaze entrances me. The creatures inside of me practically purr with approval—and neither of them is the purring type. Blood and gore, yes, but kitten-ish satisfaction? That’s a new one for me. I lick my swollen bottom lip, our harsh pants the only noise in the room as we continue looking at one another as if hypnotized. The stand-off finally ends when I whisper, “What is happening to us?”

His laugh is part humor and part growl as he bears semi-elongated canines at me. “Fuck if I know, Morgana. This shit doesn’t happen to me. I don’t lose control.”

“I lose it all the time,” I reply as my fingertips brush over the hairs at the back of his neck. “But… this isn’t that.”

“No shit.” He rests his forehead on mine with a rumble in his chest. “I want to devour you. But that’s not all.”

I tilt my head, trying to ignore the crawling under my skin that indicates one of my supe sides wants me to shift. “Then what, Lucas? What else do you want?”

The smile that curves his lips up is sinful. “Other than to strip you naked on the island and make you scream? Hell if I know, Morgana. I’m a one night carnival and the rides don’t close; that’s as much as I can promise you. But at least I’m honest.”

It’s sad that’s a step up from anything I’ve had recently.

“And if I want to climb on the Tilt-A-Whirl tonight? What then?” I look at him through my lashes, my expression unsure. “You plaster it all over the internet to draw attention away from the impending murder charge?”

He snorts, backing me into the counter he just mentioned and pinning me there. “No. What we would do here is no one else’s business and we enjoy every second until it’s over.”

Closing my eyes, I savor the feel of a hard body and equally firm cock pressing against me. It’s been so very long and I don’t allow myself the luxury of taking what I need very often. Except for my vengeance, I haven’t given myself permission to enjoy anything since I discovered Magnus’ treachery.

Aren’t I owed just a little pleasure in this never ending punishment I’m living?

“Okay,” I breathe as I lean back on my hands, bracing on the marble countertop. “You win, Lucas.”

A purely masculine laugh escapes his lips as his hands grasp my thighs and lift me onto the cold island with ease. “Oh, no, Morgana. Trust me when I say you win. ”

His hands knead my legs through the suit pants before he uses his palms to push my shoulders until I’m reclining on my elbows, looking up at him. Dipping his head, he nuzzles my breasts through my shirt and uses his hips to bump my legs apart. Teeth tug at my nipple through the thin button down and I let my head fall back on my shoulders as his mouth wets the fabric while he plays. A low throb builds in my pussy as he works his way down my body until he drops to his knees and yanks my hips forward to the edge of the counter.

“Lucas…”

“Shh.” His fingers work the buttons of my slacks and he lifts me a little to tug them over my ass to drop them on the floor. “I’m busy.”

I’d argue, but since his teeth are tugging my lacy thong down while he holds me up, I can’t say he’s mistaken. My ass hits the cool stone when he lowers me and warm hands spread me open so he can blow lightly over my bare mound. The juxtaposition of the temperatures makes me shiver, and he turns his head, sinking his teeth firmly into my inner thigh.

How he knew I’m a sucker for teeth, I have no idea.

“Baby likes to be marked. Good to know,” he murmurs before nipping and suckling at the tender skin leading up to the juncture of my thighs eagerly.

“Uh-huh.”

When his mouth hits me, I know I’m damn near dripping. Lucas might be young, but he’s got skills. His tongue traces along the seam of my pussy, then further back to my entrance, drawing a low, dark moan out of me. My core clenches when he finally flicks the tip of his tongue over my clit and he growls softly in response. His tongue traces circles around the aching nerves, teasing me in a way I’ve never experienced before. At least, not without the help of a toy. I’ve dated a handful of men over the centuries and I haven’t met one yet who seems to enjoy this activity like the hungry bear in front of me.

But I can’t tell him that; it would be far too pathetic to admit.

“You taste like spicy peaches,” he mutters. I open my mouth to scoff, but that falls out of my mind completely when he thrusts two thick fingers inside of me as he continues torturing my clit with patterns and licks that make my thighs tremble.

My back arches off the counter and I can’t help but rock into him, letting the jolts of pleasure rocket through me. Between teeth, tongue, and fingers, the sensations assault me and melt every protest and worry from my brain. It doesn’t take long before I realize I’m going to come—and hard—all over his face and hand. Wiggling a little, I try to push him off so he can fuck me, but he holds firm. There are definitely going to be bruises on my hips from his firm grip because he will not let go until I…

The orgasm that slams into me takes me by surprise and I let out a strangled scream, grasping at air with hands that have shifted into dark, charcoal claws unbidden. I know my skin color is changing and I vaguely hear the low hiss of the girls emerging, but my body is shaking with the intensity of the climax Lucas pulled from him. He laps up the juices slowly, as if savoring me, and then places an oddly gentle kiss at my apex before he lifts his head to snarl.

“By Odin’s beard, Morgana… you’re…”

I flush, knowing that the dark gray color of my skin as it partially shifted paired with my hair writhing under me is weird and unattractive. That’s what I’ve always been told, especially by Magnus, and I want to wrap my arms around myself to hide it all in shame. “I know; I’m sorry. I lost control and I can’t…”

“Oh, no. Baby, don’t you dare cover an inch of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.”

What?

“I…”

A loud growl echoes out of his chest and before I can find the words, his clothes drop to the floor and he’s yanked me against him in a way that tells me he’s not lying. His cock is pressing against my entrance and I have to strain not to rock until it fills me. “Clean? Pill?”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “Yes.”

His grin is feral as his hips slam forward, and our bodies are joined. I’m more full than I’ve ever been and for a moment, I wonder exactly how big my one and done shifter is. My questions float away when he leans down and bites the juncture of my shoulder hard, causing me to whine in pleasure. He likes that and his hips withdraw, swirling the tip of his cock around briefly before he thrusts into me again, hard. I shudder, enjoying the opposing sensations as he repeats the motion over and over. He doesn’t let go of the bite, even when the snakes hiss and snap above him.

Motherfucker, this boy is goddamned perfection.

My hands lift and claws rake down his back as we pant, and our hips slap together wildly. I dig in harder and he lets out a dark growl that says his own beast is close to the surface. I have no idea what that would look like, but if he keeps fucking me like this, I don’t care. Every time his hips piston and he buries his cock in me, it feels like it’s going deeper. When my walls flutter around him, I let my head fall back on my shoulders again and bury one hand in his shaggy hair.

“Lucas, I’m gonna come,” I breathe, squeezing my hips on the outside of his thighs hard as the tremors zing through me like electricity.

His answer is another primal sound, and he stays right where he is, holding on as I drop over the edge and his cock swells inside of me. The waves of pleasure make my gut tighten and he finally lets go of the bite to throw his head back with a roar that vibrates over my skin. His body pins me in place as sweat rolls down my spine and my breathing hitches. Something about the way our bodies are connected, and he’s buried inside of me, keeps me still as the colors behind my eyes slowly fade.

The room is silent for a few moments and I hear him mutter under his breath in a weird, gravelly voice. “Mine.”

My lips curve and I decide not to correct him—after all, he did just rock my world off of its axis.

His head dips and he pins me with darkened pupils, his large bear canines poking out of his normal mouth oddly. “We’re in deep trouble.”