Page 20 of Back River Quiver

“Call me by my name,” he demanded.

Her breathing hitched as she leaned in and clung to him, her hips pumping faster now, his little angel fucking herself on him to an orgasm. “Daddy. Daddy.”

As always, when she called him by that title, victory broke loose in his gut. Rixen gripped her butt cheeks and squeezed hard, helping her move, earning a grateful moan. “What else?”

She laid her open mouth on his neck, whimpers and gasping falling past her lips. “Breeder. M-my breeder.” He sensed a dam giving way inside her. “Breed me, Daddy. I want it. I want it. I can’t help it.”

With a growl, Rixen surged to his feet, slapping her ass down on the kitchen table and reaching down to unzip his jeans. When he took out his cock, semen sprayed from the top, coating the back of his hand and her thighs. Need her. Need Morgan. He guided the moist head of his cock toward her waiting pussy—

A knock at the front door went through the room like a gunshot. Rixen paused with his cock in his hand for a moment, before performing the painful task of stowing his erection away and zipping his jeans. “It’s probably one of my brothers.”

“Oh.” Still breathing heavy, Morgan rolled her eyes adorably. “Hooray. Break out the good china.”

“So feisty,” he breathed at her mouth, tugging the shirt down to hide her sweet cunt. “Save that spirit for your daddy so he can enjoy it later.”

Pink-cheeked, Morgan nodded and slid off the table. Rixen couldn’t help stealing another kiss before heading to the door. But what he heard next stopped him in his tracks.

“Police. Open up.”

His inner peace shattered in an instant, leaving him in turmoil. Where a moment ago, he was a man with no concerns, save winning the love of a woman…he was now an animal defending his mate. Keeping his mate. At all costs.

If he’d had more time with Morgan, maybe he wouldn’t have panicked. Maybe he wouldn’t have feared for the worst—that she would leave with the police. Or consider their arrival a rescue. So many maybes. But it boiled down to this. No one was taking Morgan away from him. Not even Morgan herself. And he couldn’t risk it happening. Not with his very sanity at stake.

With a roar building in his chest, Rixen wheeled around to find Morgan watching him wide-eyed across the kitchen. She didn’t know whether to leave or stay—Rixen could see it in her eyes. No. No. They just needed more time.

They didn’t have it, though, so he would buy it the only way he could.

Already knowing the damage his actions would cause, but no idea how to avoid it, Rixen stormed toward Morgan and scooped her up, hastening toward the bedroom. He hesitated at the closet door, before kicking it open and depositing her inside.

“Rixen, what are you doing?”

It anguished him to ignore her, but he focused on tearing a strip off the closest shirt in his closet and gagging her beautiful mouth with it. Tears lay unshed in her beloved turquoise eyes, ripping his soul in half. Mistake. This is a mistake. His heart knew it, but his fear of losing her overwhelmed everything in its path. “I am sorry, but I can’t risk you leaving me, my gift. It will be over soon. I just need more time with you.” Another knock at the door. Louder this time. “Please understand.”

Hating the betrayal on her face, he closed her in the closet and went to face the police.

A man was mid-knock when Rixen opened the door. Him and his partner immediately stepped back, their hands moving to hover over their weapons. Rixen only watched them in silence, his hatred for them mounting. Hatred for shattering the growing happiness between him and Morgan. For forcing Rixen to betray her trust.

A voice in the back of Rixen’s head told him they’d forced him to do nothing. That his own fears and insecurities had hurt his mate’s feelings. But he ignored the voice and focused on his anger. These men would not separate him from Morgan. No one would unless he was cold and dead in the ground.

“What do you want?”

At the low timbre of Rixen’s voice, the men backed up farther. The one in front appeared braver, however, wetting his lips to speak. “There was a car broken down about two miles back at the road. A girl was driving it. Young. Reddish-blonde hair. Goes by the name Morgan.” The cop’s eyebrows went up. “Odds are she didn’t make it this far without getting snapped up by a gator, but we’re performing our due diligence. You wouldn’t have happened to come across a young thing out this way? Have you, mister…”

“Rixen,” he snapped, annoyed by having another man describe his woman’s appearance. “No. There has been no one.”