Page 11 of Siren’s Kiss & Feral Beasts

KAI

T hat’s all the warning I give her.

One step. Two steps. I take ten steps back, closing my eyes for a few seconds while I savor her need for me. She’s everywhere. Her slick desire in the air between us and the sweet with a delicate-hint-of-salt perfection complements her naturally addictive perfume.

Floral. Fruity. Mine.

There’s a subtle shift in front of me, the soles of her open-toed sandals dragging against the cobblestone beneath our feet. I’m attuned to the most minute movement, and when she moves closer instead of away, I snap my teeth at her playfully.

Her squeal—half shock, half laughter—slides across my every nerve ending like a pulse, and my eyes snap open.

Moreover, the longer she’s near, the harder it thrums through me, and I grunt in approval.

The sound is full of pride, both man and beast, a low growl that causes goosebumps across her tanned skin.

That sinful blush also deepens from her cheeks to her bigger-than-a-handful breasts. They’re encased in a soft, white cotton dress sans bra, and I can’t help but let my eyes wander low. I follow the path of small bows down the front to where her cunt is hidden from view.

Are you bare for me, pretty girl?

Motherfuck, I’m hard. My cock thickens and pushes against the fabric of my pants. I can feel the beads of pre-come as they slip from the head and down the shaft before disappearing into the stitching. Anticipation and lust—a heady combination I welcome for the first time in my life.

Only for her. For the woman I will claim and mate.

“Run, little treasure.”

“W-what are you?—”

“Ten, nine, eight…” Before I get to seven, she bolts. Her dress flares around her thighs as she races down the street, heading in the direction of her house. Hair whipping. Hips swaying. The game of chase is exquisite, and I plan to indulge myself.

I’ve never touched a woman. Never felt the urge to break my vow to my goddess-given mate, but the way I react to her, I know she’s mine. The same way she leans into me and softens at the sound of my purr is all the proof I need.

“We’ll get the stone tomorrow,” I say, stretching my neck side to side. “Tonight…we hunt.”

My wolf’s agreement comes in the form of a rippling awareness. Contentment.

I’ll pick it up tomorrow before breakfast and explain.

I give her a small head start while my wolf stretches, savoring the trail of her scent and the unhidden arousal I plan to drown in. He agrees with me. It’s there in the heightening of my senses and the coiling of my muscles, my weight shifting forward as we prepare to give chase.

Moreover, she gets as far as the end of the street before I give in to my impulses and half-shift. My clawed feet dig into the ground while I lick a fang, inhaling roughly before taking off after her.

And the moment I do, she looks back, nearly stumbling but rights herself as another delighted sound leaves the back of her throat. Not a scream. No fear. My female is excited.

And the faster she runs, pumping those lithe legs, the more I slow my gait.

She’s so much smaller than I am, and for every three of her steps, I take one, and she’s never out of my view.

Businesses give way to a winding road, and there’s nothing on either side of us.

Just grass, some patchy areas of sand, a small playground for those who have children here, two wooden ramps that lead to beaches?—

Her home comes into view.

There’s a small porch light on, its glow giving the front of her home some warmth, but she doesn’t head inside.

Instead, she bypasses the cottage and heads toward the back.

More precisely, the jungle behind it. It’s different than what you’d find in the southern or western sea, a denser forest, but the tropical vegetation here grows wild and heavy—palms, broad-leaf trees, and flowering vines that thrive in this damp heat.

It's darker now as she slips inside; the sun has fully set, and the varying shades of purple and orange have slowly become a dark blue. Almost black. A clear night, except for the sea of stars guiding her tiny steps past the thick tree line.

I stop at the edge a few seconds later.

While my wolf follows her every move, the way she dodges overgrown roots, I send a final mindlink to Torren on the ship.

Do not contact me unless it’s an emergency. I’ll be back at dawn.

Through the pack bond, I feel the weight of his unasked question, but Torren’s trust outweighs his curiosity. If nothing else, he’s loyal. Trustworthy.

Yes, Alpha. Enjoy your night.

Cutting the link, I lick my lips and catch traces of her desire. It’s softer now; the breeze coming off the nearby water marks it with its salty brine, but I like the combination. The sea has always felt like home, even if I never spend time inside of it.

Wolves travel through, but never bathe in it. Sirens aren’t to be trusted, and their king is a joke who hides beneath the water. The entire royal family does, including the future heir.

“You’re slower than I imagined,” she whispers, a coquettish lilt to her tone, and I laugh at the slight mock. We both know it wouldn’t take much to subdue her, but I love the playfulness. Let her believe she has the advantage.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” I call out, stalking her slowly like the predator I am while the jungle welcomes us.

Humid and alive, its shadows curl around each tree.

Every leaf, every rustle…it’s the perfect backdrop as I follow her deeper into its cradle.

She’s a few minutes ahead of me, and yet easy to find.

Every gasp, every quick glance over her shoulder—her laughter that rings and reverberates—feeds my hunger.

Branches scratch at her calves and leaves cling to her sweat-slick skin, but she doesn’t care or stop.

If anything, it’s a challenge to push harder and see how long it’ll take for me to catch her.

Those giggles will be my complete undoing.

This foreplay: a delicious game that taunts and teases until one of us snaps will have her marked before the sun rises.

Because there’s no mistaking who will snap first.

We have the rest of our lives to get to know one another.

Tomorrow, when the sun rises and I wake her with my tongue, I’ll ask questions and answer her, but for tonight, I plan to let the wolf have full rein.

Because our animals aren’t ruled by logic, but instinct, and every single one of mine is pulling me in her direction. Who and what she is doesn’t matter.

I pick up my pace, muscles taut and senses alive. The distance between us closes, the tip of my black-tipped claw skims the back of her arm, and the squeal of delight she emits causes my knot to throb. For my cock to give a harsh jerk, and the head slips out of the half-closed zipper.

She sees this from over her shoulder, stumbling in the limited light, but rights herself at just the right moment before turning right.

There’s a thicker crop of trees up ahead, almost maze-like, and she slips within the Ceibas and breadfruit trees.

A couple of almond and guava trees are also present, but they flank the outer rim of this cropping.

“Name, sweet female?”

“You have to earn the right, Wolf.” My beast likes the challenge.

His chuffs mix with my laugh, and the sound reverberates through the jungle.

More so when she finds refuge behind a large trunk, her front plastered to its bark.

She’s trying to be inconspicuous, but those violet eyes cannot be hidden.

They catch the moonlight, dim as it may be through the treetops, and I bite back a smile.

It’d be easy to snatch and mount her, take what is mine, but I don’t.

Instead, I drag my claws across the closest tree trunk. The gouges I leave behind are jagged and deep, but it’s the sharp splintering of wooden fibers that makes her run. From one Ceiba to another, even a palm if she ventures farther to the edge, while I watch.

Her heart rate speeds up, and her breathing is a bit labored, but it’s the spike in her scent that has me fighting back a full shift.

It’s stronger now, spreading through each tree until reaching me, and the way it slides across my bare skin feels like the soft stroke of her hand.

As if she were walking around me, dragging her finger over each muscle before dipping low.

From tip to knot, I pulse in time with her heartbeat. The thump, thump, thump is a cadence I walk toward while she moves again. I’m at the center of the cluster as she prances around me, hiding behind trees, while I let her think she’s won.

“You’re not good at this game, are you?”

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“I’m not afraid,” she singsongs, making another change in position. A mistake. Her thought process, though cocky, trusted that this predator had become docile during our game. Thinking she could slip past me and escape my grasp. Another mistake.

One I will capitalize on. The second she rushes, I turn and pounce, slipping a hand around her waist as I lift her off the ground mid-sprint. What starts as a shriek quickly turns into giggles, but even those are cut off within seconds.

Her back meets the trunk of the nearest vine-covered tree, my body pinning hers in place.

I don’t lower her, either.

We’re not face-to-face, more like she’s level with my upper chest, but she’s high enough that with a quick dip of my face, I can kiss her.

Not that she complains. Instead, this little treasure digs her fingers into my arm and arches up into me.

There’s just a thin bit of cotton separating her skin from mine, and yet her heat sears me.

Having her this close feels right.

“Whose bad at this game?” It leaves me in a groan when she manages to wrap one leg around my hip. The hem of her dress rises, more soft skin exposed, and I groan out as one hand traces from her knee to her upper thigh and back down again. “Tell me.”

“I can admit defeat.” She tries to hop and wrap her other leg around me and fails. Then she pouts, an unconscious act from the furrow of her brows and the way she looks down toward said leg.

Cutest fucking thing.

“Ask me.”

“I don’t?—”

“Tell me what put that look on your face, and I’ll fix it.”

Understanding dawns, and once again she blushes. With my wolf's ability to see clearly at night, I catch the pink on the apple of her cheeks and the thin misting of sweat clinging to every inch of her. It’s light, but hard to ignore when each drop that rolls down her skin is magnified decadence.

My fangs ache with the need to bite, but before I can at the very least nip her ear, she tips her face up and flutters her eyelashes at me. Slowly. Coquettishly. “Help me lift my leg.”

Playfully, I snap my teeth a hair’s breadth from her small button nose. “And place it where, little treasure?”

Those violet eyes narrow, and her lips purse. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I am. Not going to deny that.”

“Please wrap my leg around your waist,” she says, voice so sweet. Low and breathy.

A wish I grant, pressing my hard, half-covered cock against her bare pussy. The head grazes her slit, and we both pause, lust striking through me with the force of a battering ram.

I know there are things we need to discuss.

Who she is. What I am. Her fucking name…

But everything ceases to exist when she slants her mouth over mine and the tip of her tongue traces my bottom lip. The world could cease to exist, and I wouldn’t give a single fuck.

All I hear and feel is her. Just her.