Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

RUTH

E at me?

If this male were anything other than a werewolf, I'd be game.

But this was a wolf, and I was a bunny. I could literally be game.

I bounded out of his room and through the darkness of his cabin.

For a tense second, I stared at the front door and considered making a break for it. A second later, I dismissed the instinct to run.

I needed his mark. I couldn't leave without it.

Besides, my heat cycle was making me want to play this twisted game of chase with the big bad wolf.

My eyes swept around his living room as I frantically searched for a hiding place. My heart bottomed out when my attention landed on the animal head trophies mounted to his wall, staring back at me as if in warning.

"What do you think of my collection?"

I whipped around to see the silver-haired male in his bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame with his muscular arms folded over his now bare chest.

He'd stripped down to nothing but gray joggers.

He pushed off the door and prowled toward me. "Should I stuff and mount you among the rest of my kills?"

All sense of self-preservation was gone. Thrown out the window. Because fuck me, this man—this monster—was hot as Hell. Which was exactly where I'd be going, judging by the way my body was reacting to him.

I wanted to resist him. To get his mark without taking any pleasure from the act. Too bad there was no way of ignoring my pussy and the way it throbbed under his glare.

Spinning around, I fled into the kitchen. His heavy footsteps thundered through the room.

My feet froze in place when I spotted the severed head on the kitchen counter, blood oozing off the tile surface and dripping into a pool on the linoleum.

Fucking hell. I couldn't forget why I was here or the blood on my hands. I couldn't let myself believe for a second that I was safe with this male. Mates or not, I'd taken something from him I wouldn't ever be able to give back.

I managed to grab a knife from his knife block—it looked handmade. The wooden handle was created for larger hands, and the blade had weight to it.

With the knife raised, I whipped around, but he was there, grabbing my throat and forcing me to look at his twin's head.

Shifters often shifted back to the form they frequented the most in death. Casey had clearly been more man than wolf in his life since there was a human head on the counter instead of a wolf's.

"He's going to watch. Hope you don't mind."

Before I could fully process just how fucked up this all was, he shoved me back against the fridge.

I raised the knife again, but he plucked it from my hand and slammed it at my shoulder.

My eyes closed as I braced myself for the impact. A scream left me. Then, nothing. No stabbing sensation. No pain.

I cracked open an eyelid to see the knife protruding from the fridge. The only thing the blade had punctured was the shirt I wore—his shirt. He hadn't hurt me. All he'd done was pin me to the fridge.

I could probably slip out of the shirt—ancient instincts telling me to do what bunnies did best and run.But the heat radiating from his body threatened to burn me alive. I had to sate this discomfort.

So, when he bent down to press a kiss to the soft edge of my bunny ear and when he tongued one of my many piercings, I didn't fight him.

"So fucking beautiful…" he muttered into my ear, his voice crumbling under the wave of lust that threatened to drown us both. "So ruthless…"

He hated me for killing his brother, but I could feel his wolf gaining strength, lurking just beneath the surface of his tattooed skin. Something told me it didn't hate me as much as the man who served as its cage.

Earlier in the woods, it chose me for its mate, but maybe that was all a part of this sick game. Making me think I had a chance to live, only to tear me apart in the most brutal way a man could hurt a woman?

The silver-haired male stamped another kiss to the slender column of my neck, every muscle in my body winding tight when he trailed his mouth to my throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive patch of flesh.

It would be so easy for him to rip out my throat.

"You're shaking…" His growl was rough and deep, like sandpaper against my skin. I sucked in a breath as he slipped a hand under my shirt—his shirt—and palm my goosebump-covered breast. "Like a rabbit caught in a snare. You know what my instincts demand I do to prey caught in traps?"

A wicked feeling swirled in my chest, tight and confusing. "Eat."

"That's right, Ruthless."

He fell to his knees, kissing me down the length of my body, all while holding my glare. "I'm going to consume you until there's nothing left of you but a pool of blood and cum."

The closer he came to my apex, the more frantic his kisses became. Feral and hungry.

"You smell so fucking good."

My breath latched in my throat. His voice sounded different. It was deep and monstrous—wolfish. Only his growl wasn't that of a starving predator. His words were heated. Full of need.

I sucked down a gasp when he gripped my thighs and pulled them apart. He shoved his face between my legs, hot breath spilling over my center.

I hadn't had a man between my legs in a long time. The last one had been Sawyer, and that whole experience had been traumatizing.

As a bunny, I was supposed to like sex. I didn't. Just another reason why I didn't feel at home in the burrow.

It was like I was broken. Or, so I thought.

The moment his tongue slid through my folds, the pleasure winding through me was enough to make me see stars.

He felt good. More than good. There wasn't a word in my vocabulary to describe how incredible his tongue felt, swirling teasing circles around my clit.

It wasn't just the heat. I'd been in heat when Sawyer had taken it upon himself to mate me. And that had felt wrong.

Getting tongue fucked by the enemy was screwed up, too, and in a way that somehow felt more right than Sawyer ever had.

This silver-haired male was scrambling my brain and my body, making my instincts go haywire. I wanted to run away from him as fast as I could, only so he could catch and claim me.

My thighs shook as his tongue pushed into my pussy. His fingers flexed tighter on my thighs, working with the knife to keep me upright because I was turning to putty in his hands.

"Sh–shift. I want to see your wolf."

He pulled his tongue from my pussy and sat back. My heart stuttered at the sight of his glistening lips wet with my juices.

He licked them as they curved into a savage grin. "You already saw it when you butchered my twin brother."

He wedged his hand between my soaking thighs and sunk two very thick fingers inside me. I was so fucking wet that I took him easily, but the sudden stretching sensation as he forced my body to accommodate him had my head swimming.

Pushing his face back between my legs, he hooked his tooth on my labia piercing and pulled hard enough to wrench a pain-laced moan from my lips.

His cruel laugh sunk straight into me. "That's right. The little murderous whore likes a little pain with her pleasure, doesn't she?"

His breath washed over my center, wrapping around his fingers as they plunged into me.

He released my piercing and looked up to capture my gaze. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, and his pupils were blown wide with lust. "Answer my question, Ruthless."

The male wiggled the tip of a third finger inside me—a silent threat. "Answer me, or I'm gonna play a game to see just how much of me you can fit before you break."

I nodded frantically, the back of my skull bashing against the fridge. "I like it when it hurts."

His smile turned smug. "I figured as much. You put on such a pretty little show for me in my bed when you thought I was dead."

My breath froze in my lungs as realization bled in. He must have been spying on me through the window.

"That's right, Ruthless. I saw you rolling around in my sheets, finger fucking yourself. With Casey's blood still wet on your flesh."

His tone was husky and rough but not with anger. With need.

It was like there was some part of him that was turned on by the fact that I'd killed his brother.

My suspicion was confirmed when my attention dipped to watch his hand slip into the waistband of his sweats and fist his cock.

"Y–you're seriously fucked in the head. You know that?"

He chuckled as he pulled his fingers from my pussy, while keeping his other hand anchored to his dick and rose to his full height.

His hands slipped under my thighs and lifted me up the fridge. The sound of my shirt tearing free of the knife filled my ears as he lifted me off the ground. My legs instinctively banded around his hips.

My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he shifted my weight in his arms for a beat while he reached between us to tug his sweats down.

Everything in me went cold and hot again when he pushed me flush against the fridge and lined himself up with my pussy. "Of course, I'm fucked in the head. You think I don't know that? Look at me. I'm about to screw my brother's killer while his disembodied head watches from my kitchen counter. All because my wolf tells me that you're all that matters. How's that for fucked?"

The monster behind his eyes seemed to grow stronger, and for a moment, he went quiet. What was his wolf saying to him? I'd give anything to hear it speak again. Anything to see it shift and mark me…

"You're not the only one fighting a war. I want you, too. I want to mate you. You. The redneck loner wolf who tried to strangle me not even an hour ago."

He brought his forehead to rest against mine, making it so I couldn't look away. "I couldn't. I wouldn't. I fucking can't hurt you, not in any way that won't leave you moaning for more. Thank my wolf for that, Little Bunny."

"Let me see him," I panted, my hips bucking—desperate to take more of him inside me. "Shift. Please. I'm ready."

He bared his teeth, shooting me a manic smile through the dark. Fuck, he was so hot when he smiled. "No, you're not. First, we have to train that tight little pussy to take my wolf form."

Before the last words left his mouth, he slammed his hips forward, filling me with one harsh motion.