King's Proposal: Paranormal Shape Shifter Alpha Male Cage Fighter Werelion romance (Shifter Fight League Book 3) (2 page)

* * *

H
e’d done it again
.

Zara murmured softly in the back of her throat as Logan’s lips whispered over hers. She’d come in here determined to talk, but somehow she was in his arms again. The crisp cotton of his shirt moved smoothly under her fingertips, the clean scent of the fabric wrapped around the unmistakable scents of man and lion. Just one breath and she was lost, her body heating and her lips parting beneath his. Fuck’s sake, was she really that easy?

He dipped his tongue into her open mouth, flicking it against the underside of her top lip in a move that had her clutching at his shoulders for support. Pulling her backward, he leaned against the edge of his desk and settled her against him. She went easily, happily, tilting her head for his kiss.

It felt so good, but at the same time frustration rolled through her. She couldn’t say no to him. All he had to do was touch her…kiss her and she lost the ability to think about anything other than finding the nearest horizontal surface. How pathetic was that?

She pulled back, breaking the kiss, to search his eyes.

“How do you do this to me?”

It was an honest entreaty, but the tone of helplessness revealed far more than she wanted. The question was valid though. He had to have some sort of hold over her. It couldn’t be just sex. She’d had boyfriends before…

A tiny frown creased her brow. Actually when had she broken up with her last one? She couldn’t remember, not with Logan’s thumb gently stroking the side of her waist. It didn’t matter because just the thought of another man touching her sent a roll of nausea through her body.

“Do what?” His deep voice was an auditory caress in the silence of the room. “Affect you as much as you do me? I’d say fair’s fair.”

She shook her head. “I do not affect you the same way. Not at all.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow and reached for her hand, sliding his fingertips down the outside of her wrist before capturing it. Pulling her hand down, he used it to cup his groin. His thick, hard cock pressed against his pants insistently. She gasped, unable to stop her fingers stretching out to measure his length.

“See how much you affect me?” he murmured against her lips, catching the full curve of the bottom one between his teeth and nipping lightly. “I want to fuck you so bad it fucking hurts. Fucking physically hurts.”

She stroked him through his pants and savored his shudder. “You seem fixated on the word fuck.”

He parted his lips, teeth clenched as he purr-growled at her. “I’m fixated on fucking you.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Really? You think you’re that lucky?”

Gold flared in his eyes and he shrugged. “I don’t know, am I?”

Instead of answering, she leaned forward and kissed him. Like before, his kisses were light, soft brushes of his lips and tongue against hers rather than the deeper exchange she craved. Crowding closer, she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, demanding access from him rather than the other way around. When he parted his lips to let her in, she sought his tongue, twining hers around it.

The kiss was long and lazy but still full of heat. Sunlight streamed through the half-closed blinds, surrounding them in warmth. Soon though, even deeper kisses weren’t enough. Breaking away with a pant, she pulled at his shirt, undoing the buttons with shaking hands. One tore, pinging away unheeded to the floor as she slid her hands beneath the fabric with a sigh of relief. She needed to touch him…

He groaned, dropping his head back as she explored.

“Fuck, kitten, you’re killing me.”

“I’m not done yet,” she whispered, leaning down to flick her tongue over his nipple. He flinched and then groaned, his grip on her hips punishing. She grinned against his pec, opening her mouth to nip the skin lightly.

He swore, his cock jerking against her soft belly. “Dangerous games, kitten. Careful with your teeth unless you want under me and fucked senseless.”

She chuckled softly. “I thought that was the idea.”

Taking heed of the warning, she straightened up and, grasping his open shirt, pulled him up from his position against the desk. He looked at her curiously, but she just winked, pushing him backward toward the leather couch in the corner of the office.

“Besides,” she whispered and then yanked his shirt down over his arms to pin them in place, “dangerous games are the only kind I like to play.”

L
ogan gasped
, the sound of surprise making her grin in response. She didn’t give him a chance to react, hands holding the shirt taut and keeping his arms pinned to his sides. It was a false captivity of course. All it would take for him to free himself was a roll of his shoulders, and he’d tear the shirt to shreds.

But he didn’t. Instead, he let her run her hands over his chest and abs, fingers exploring the hard muscles and lines of definition. Silence reigned between them, tension stretching out as he watched her touch him. His jaw was clenched, top lip curled back to reveal that his teeth were gritted. Reaching up, she placed her hand in the center of his chest.

Yes, he was purring.

“Pussy-cat likes that,” she teased, drawing a line down his abs.

“Just one pussy here,” he threw back, flexing his arms just enough to make the fabric around them complain. “And we both know what’s going to happen to that.”

“Yeah?” She crowded closer, brushing her lips over his so that she was almost kissing him, but not quite. Her hands weren’t idle, sliding between them as she swiftly undid his pants. His cock, ever eager, leaped free. She wrapped her fingers around the thick length and stroked him from root to tip. The groan that welled up from his chest was deep and carnal, stretching out as he dropped his head back and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know about you…” She lifted on her tiptoes to kiss the side of his neck, trailing her lips up to just under his ear. “But I think I’m the one in charge now, and you’re going to do as you’re told. Aren’t you?”

His purr was all the answer she needed. With a firm grip, she worked his cock. Used fast strokes mixed in with hard ones and then swept her finger over the wide head. She collected the bead of pre-cum gathered there to spread it slickly over him.

“Fuck, kitten… you’re killing me.” His groan was accompanied by tearing cloth as he tensed against the shirt.

“You can take it.” She gave him a small push backward so he sat down suddenly on the couch, shirt still holding his upper arms in place.

“Lean back.”

He scooted his hips forward at her command, looking up at her with such a hot expression it took her breath away.

Moving with as much sensual grace as she could muster, she climbed into his lap and straddled him. Her tight skirt nearly foiled her, constraining her movements, but she used it to tease him. Hands flat on her thighs, she slid the hem up, revealing that she wore stockings. His quick intake of breath told her he’d noticed too.

The skirt slid higher, until it was merely a swath of fabric around her waist, revealing her tiny panties. She watched him watching her. His gaze riveted to her crotch as she slid her hands between her thighs. Dipping her fingertips under the lace edge of her panties, she teased him by pushing the fabric to the side and sweeping her fingertips through her pussy lips.

They slid easily, coming away slick with her arousal, and she stroked her clit. She moaned and did it again, watching him all the while.

He groaned and growled, the sounds fighting with his purr as he watched her pleasure herself. He watched her writhe as she stroked, fingers spread to keep her panties out of the way so he could see as well.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” His cock jerked, brushing his tensed stomach and drawing her attention. A wicked devil on her shoulder, she moved her fingers down and slid one, then two into the hot, wet grasp of her pussy. She pumped them as he watched.

His eyes widened, nostrils flaring, and with the sound of tearing cloth, he was free. His hands clamped over her hips, lifting her even as she pulled her fingers free.

“Naughty kitten,” he purred, settling her over his cock. Before she had a chance to reply, he thrust upward to impale her on his thick, hard length.

She gasped, and fought a deep, dark need and the burning pleasure-pain of his invasion. Wide and thick, she was filled almost to the point of pain. Her body stretched around him as he held her tightly. Giving her no time to recover, he began to move, hands hard on her hips as he thrust up into her tight sheath again and again.

They didn’t talk, no sweet nothings. Instead, the air was filled with the sounds of sex as they strained against each other — the slap of skin against skin and the rasp of their clothes as they moved in sync. Pleasure rolled through her with each rock and roll of his hips, her thighs clenching to lift her up so that she could slide down his cock again.

Their tempo sped up and she leaned forward, hands clutching the back of the couch as she rode him. The leather squeaked in time with their movements, in time with his hips as he fucked her hard and deep.

“Oh…god… yes…” She gasped, her pussy clenching tightly as a familiar tension rose up from her toes. Liquid heat bathed his cock in a rush and pleasure burst through her in one blinding, earth-shattering wave.

“Yes, that’s it, kitten,” he growled, voice no longer human. “Come all over my cock…let me feel what I do to you.”

She couldn’t answer, just nodded as she rode both the waves of pleasure and his hard length. He growled again, reaching up to grasp her around the nape of the neck, the other hand on the back of her hips as he sped up.

Harder. Faster. Deeper.

She cried out as she came again, hard on the heels of her first climax. Her pussy clenched tightly around him, milking his cock, and his tempo stuttered, becoming faster, erratic. With a final hard thrust, his body stiffened and he roared in pleasure as he came.

* * *

Z
ara wanted to leave him
.

Logan’s brow creased. No, not leave him. Leaving him would indicate that they had a relationship rather than just the…arrangement that they did. She wasn’t looking to leave him. She was looking for an end date on sharing his bed.

He sighed and ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. The strands were starting to twist and curl, meaning he needed to shave the damn lot off again or people would start to see him for the street thug he’d been in his teens.

Fuck. He’d thought he’d have longer with her, but the contents of the folder she’d forgotten after he’d fucked her senseless in his office indicated otherwise.

A fond smile twisted his lips. His kitten was nothing if not thorough. The figures were neat and organized, her train of logic sound. But he’d known that anyway. When his accountants had looked over the figures she’d prepared to estimate what her father had stolen, even the senior partners had been impressed. Impressed and prepared to offer her a job on the spot…a notion he’d quickly squashed.

She already had a position… Shame hit him for a second. Sure, that position was on her back for him, but it was still a role that took up a lot of her time. He didn’t want her in a stuffy office looking at spreadsheets. He wanted her like she was this morning, skirt up around her waist riding the fuck out of his cock. That was where she belonged.

He couldn’t argue that she wouldn’t make a good accountant, though. When she’d estimated what her father had stolen, she hadn’t hidden anything or massaged the figures, even though the naked truth could have meant her death. Instead, she’d put it all down there in black and white, trusting in honesty and his good nature.

Same with her projections in the file he’d found. She’d estimated how much she was worth as a sex worker and offset it against what she owed him. He didn’t know whether to laugh, be pissed off, or shake some sense into her. She wasn’t a sex worker and even if she had been, by pitching her price at somewhere just above streetwalker and below high class escort, she’d massively underestimated her worth.

She was worth at least a million a night, if not more. So technically, she’d already worked through her debt and he was in hers.

But it wasn’t about money. Not now. They were way past that.

It was about Zara. It always had been.

As soon as he’d seen her in that club, he’d wanted her. At first he’d thought she was Hunter’s, Kylan Hunter’s, girlfriend. All the way through that walk across the club he’d been making plans to get rid of the man and lay claim to his woman. One shallow grave to go, and he could have her in his bed. Then they’d introduced themselves and he’d realized she was not only
not
Kylan Hunter’s woman, but also that he had an in with her that didn’t involve killing anyone.

That had been too much temptation for a man like him and he’d taken what he wanted. But she’d turned out to be far more than the quick screw he’d anticipated. He found he wanted to keep her in his life. Permanently.

But how?

She was way too good for the likes of him, and Logan knew it. He was a bad boy from the wrong side of town who, somehow, had made good and she was scarily intelligent and beautiful. AKA way out of his league.

His lion grumbled within him and he reassured it. Nothing, not his background, or hers, was going to stop him. Zara Hunter was his. End of story.

“Want to crack a smile at some point soon, big guy?” The voice of his second in command, Gage, broke through his thoughts. Blinking sharply, he looked around to find the other man watching him keenly. “It’s just you’re gonna scare off the natives… and we kinda need them if you want to buy something today…”

He indicated the store around them. A high-end jeweler, it was all white walls with fancy art and gleaming glass cases filled with diamonds and other precious stones. Sales staff were dotted around, all looking his way with that sharp “helpful” expression that said they’d probably hand over their firstborns to secure his patronage.

And not one of them would have given him the time of day ten years ago when he’d stepped off the streets and into the ring. They only bothered now because he was the king. When he wasn’t, not one of them would piss on him if he were on fire. Sycophantic assholes, he hated the lot of them.

With practiced ease, he kept his thoughts off his face and indicated the case in front of him. Filled with necklaces, a king’s ransom in diamonds was within, but the price didn’t bother him. All he could think about was how pretty some of the designs would look around Zara’s neck. But would she prefer delicate and floral or chunky and bold?

“I’d like to look at tray E8 please,” he said, turning to Gage as the nearest sales girl scurried to do his bidding.

The sight of the two of them in the classiest jeweler’s store in town made him smile a little. “Betcha never thought we’d be in a place like this, eh bro?”

Gage cast a glance around and chuckled. “You mean, and not robbing it? No. Have to say I didn’t.”

Logan joined in with the chuckle. He and Gage had been friends since they’d been in diapers, kids from the same apartment block who ran wild together until they got old enough to really run wild. Both shifters, Gage’s leopard to his lion, they’d been targeted by street gangs before they’d really been old enough to understand that not even shifters could outrun silver bullets.

It had only been a chance encounter with an old fighter that had gotten them into the gym, and from it, into the ring. Fighting had stopped them going down the gang route and saved both their lives — gotten them and their families out of the rough-as-fuck neighborhood they’d lived in.

“Yeah,” Logan sighed. “We did good, didn’t we?”

Gage barked a laugh. “No mate, you did good. If you weren’t so good at beating the living crap out of people, we’d have been two washed-up old fighters with busted faces and not a hope between us, or…”

He didn’t end the sentence but he didn’t need to. They both knew that if they’d stayed on the streets one or both of them would be dead by now.

“I just wing it, bro.” Logan broke the tension with a chuckle. “Not my fault if they’ve all got a hard-on for hitting my fists with their faces now is it?”

“Yeah, that’s got to be it. You’re just a lucky bastard, ain’t you?”

He grinned and looked down at the tray in front of him. Diamonds winked back at him but he didn’t see them. Mention of the rougher areas of the city brought other thoughts to mind.

“Tell me about the underground fight clubs.”

Gage sighed and rubbed his hand over his shaved scalp. “We’ve had scouts out but the fuckers are elusive. As soon as we get a tip off and move in, they’re already gone. I suspect the fangers are involved.”

“Hmmmm…” Logan shook his head. “Can’t see that Zane would get involved in this. It’s not his style. Whether he is or not, we need to do something about it and fast.”