Primal Pursuit

Tomorrow, when she’s down from the high of all this, she’ll fucking kick the shit out of herself for getting too caught up. But that’s tomorrow. Tonight, it’s the hunt and chase and the devourer of the spoils.

“Ten,” I mutter.

I just go straight for the crowded bar and burst through the door with a single-minded purpose. I scan through all the unfamiliar faces, but she’s not there. She’s not tucked in a corner or even taunting me by flirting with someone else. I keep my eyes peeled as I move through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and broken dreams cling to the stuffy air.

I catch a glimpse of a woman coming out of the restroom, and a flash of blue darts inside. Rabbit’s wearing blue.

I can’t help but grin as I make my way to the restroom, darting my eyes around like a hawk before slipping inside. There are two stalls. One has the door shut.

Oh, my beautiful red drug of a flower.

I lock the door behind me and go up to the closed stall, high on the electric current moving through me. I kick the door open, and there she is, standing to the side, her eyes hooded and lips parted. She already knows what’s about to happen. She wants it to.

So do I.

I grab her and pull her to me and whisper, “Hey, Rabbit. Got you.”

Chapter

Eleven

POPPY

His arms arestrong around me, almost gentle, and his body warm. His erection is big and hard and something I crave like I’ve gone and lost my mind.

Maybe I have.

My heart beats about a thousand thumps per minute, and his scent is there, evocative and making my mind short circuit. Everything’s doing that. Every fucking thing about him. I’m aching, craving release, needing him, and the idea of turning tables and brandishing a whip on him is hot, but being caught? Even better.

I’m so fucked up, and yet if he doesn’t slide his hand between my legs, I might go mad.

Through the door of the bathroom, someone pounds on it and the music filters in along with the noise from the crowd. Dull, inconsequential, and I press back into him.

“People want to use the bathroom.”

“Too fucking bad, Rabbit. Those people can use the other one.”

He spins me, and the heat and need and feral want onhis face hooks down so deep in me it’s almost like a mini orgasm. I’m pressed between him and the stall’s wall, and he drags me out, into the main part of the bathroom, to stand in front of the sinks. And we are reflected through the graffiti covered mirrors.

Seeing us, together…shocks.

My eyes are too big, mouth swollen, cheeks flushed. And he…he looks like the pagan god he might be. The demon hunter with his spoils.

And I look like what I am. His prize. His victim. His sacrifice. Or—God help me—his wild goddess.

No, I’m not his. Not ever. This…this is a game.

Deliberately, he pulls the dress down to expose my breasts, and the skirt up so he can tie it in a knot. In the mirror, I look ravished, stripped back. It’s worse than being naked. It’s lewd.

Our gazes meet in the reflective glass, eyes glittering, and he reaches up, cupping my breast with his tattooed hand, pulling and pinching my nipple, slowly driving me insane.

It’s when he reaches down to my bare pussy that I suck air through my teeth. I’m swollen there, reddened, and yes, wet. My clit pokes out, and he starts to stroke it, then slides two fingers down and pulls the lips of my pussy upward, exposing me to us even more.

I swallow hard, and he leans to my ear. “Look at you, Rabbit. Perfect and delicious.”

“Trapped.”

“Just the way I like you.” His hand dips low between my legs, a finger teasing at my entrance. “Thing is, Rabbit, you fucking lost. So, I need my reward.”