Badlands: The Lion’s Den(12)

“But what does it mean for me?” she persisted. “And you?”

He looked down at her, struggling to control the desire burning through him. “You’ve got to understand, I suck at relationships.” Which wasn’t really an answer. It was an excuse. An attempt at putting up barriers between them even as he pulled her in close.

“Why did you claim me, then?”

“It was the only way to keep you safe.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip, and the sight of it sent a lightning bolt of arousal sizzling through him. “Thank you.” Then she looked up at him again. “So…what’s this about punishment?”

The last thing he wanted to do was push her into something she wasn’t ready for. “We could go up to my apartment and pretend that I’m punishing you, and then I’ll come back down and tell them the deed is done.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “What’s the alternative?”

“I could take you out into the club and spank you in front of everyone.” His fingers trailed down the side of her face and her breath caught in her throat. “Claim you as mine. Publicly. But we don’t have to.”

She surprised him by meeting his gaze with an unexpected boldness.

“Do it,” she said. Then, ever polite, she added, “If you don’t mind. I mean, if you want to.” Now she sounded a little more uncertain.

He let out a harsh laugh. “If I want to? That’s all I’ve wanted from the minute I laid eyes on you,” he growled. “Well, the spanking is just the beginning of what I want to do to you.”

“Oh.” It came out on a trembling breath, and he stifled a groan of pure animal need. God, he just wanted to bury himself in her softness. Plunge into her, hear her moan beneath him…

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go show those bears.” She raised her chin defiantly, took a deep breath, and strode towards the nightclub.





Chapter Six




As they walked back out into the club, her legs felt wobbly and thousands of butterflies were swooping and fluttering in her belly. All eyes were on them – some curious, some lascivious and some hostile – and if it hadn’t been for the warm pressure of Finn’s strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, she thought she might have fallen. Or fled. This was complete madness. She didn’t even know this man, and she was going to let him punish her – let him publicly claim her as his.

But looking at the scowling faces of the enormous bear shifters standing with their massive arms folded across their barrel chests, muscles bulging, she knew she didn’t have any choice. Finn was definitely the lesser of two evils.

Besides, the fine hairs at the nape of her neck were standing on end and little chills were running over her skin, and while she was frightened, she knew it was partly curious anticipation that was making her heart drum in her ribcage.

Finn led her towards a small stage against one wall of the club, and as they mounted the steps, behind the throbbing of the music, Flora was aware of a susurrus, a low murmuring of speculation, and a prickling expectation in the air as the kinksters in the club paused in their activities and turned their attention to the stage.

Despite being fully clothed, Flora felt more exposed than she ever had in her life before. She swallowed hard. She had a strong suspicion she was going to feel even more vulnerable, and soon.

Finn was a reassuring presence beside her. Something about his size and his solidity made her feel safe. She might be lost, bewildered, pushed into a strange world that had her equal parts terrified and exhilarated, but she knew on an instinctive level that this big Alpha male would not allow her to come to harm. He laced his fingers with hers and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture, his skin shifter-hot. She squeezed back.

Then he strode to the back of the stage and from behind the heavy red floor-length curtain he produced a simple straight-backed wooden chair, which he placed center stage. The lights dimmed briefly, then shifted so the stage was washed in a silvery light that she realized suddenly would make her pale skin glow like moonlight. She crossed her free arm self-consciously over her ample curves and tried to calm the frantic thrumming of her pulse.

Without dropping her hand, Finn took a seat on the chair, then drew her over so she was standing in front of him, her back to the audience. She looked into his face. His pupils were huge, his eyes glowing amber in the stage lights, and a soft, cynical smile gave a gentle curve to his lips. She tried to fix that expression in her mind, ignoring the expectant hush at her back as the club kinksters waited to watch the show. She had the impression that seeing Finn on the stage was a novelty, despite his apparent comfort with this world of whips and chains and collars.