Axes & O’s

8. Fox

Chapter 8

Fox

“You need to rest,” Morgan says from her place on our bed. She’s freshly showered, and her hair lies wet around her face, the glow of the fire only adding warmth to her cheeks.

“I need to shovel that drift before we’re completely trapped in.” I pull on a pair of long underwear and then go to our closet to get the rest of the clothes I’ll need. I’m used to the elements, and I thrive in the cold, but digging through snow requires I wear layers so I don’t get frostbite. I prefer having all my digits intact, thanks.

“You should at least wait until the sun comes up. Sleep for a couple of hours.”

I walk out of the closet as I’m pulling a sweater over my head. Morgan has the sheet pulled down, offering me her perfect tits for feasting. I lick my lips, and the desire to suck her pert nipples as if they’ll provide me sustenance until she’s begging for me to stop builds in my stomach.

“Fox,” she pouts. “Get into bed.”

I grunt. My wife can be persuasive, and if my need to protect her wasn’t so strong, I would do what she’s asking. But I can’t shut off my brain, the brain that was trained for many years to be on guard, to be smart, to pick off threats. I don’t even like the idea of leaving her with a man I don’t know down the hallway. If I could, I’d lock him in his room.

He may not be built like me and come off as skittish, but I recognize a likeness in him. Not only could I feel it when I carried his limp body back to our cabin, but I saw the way he responded to seeing me fuck my wife. I heard the need he has to get to his family, the anger and fear at not being able to leave. He may present outwardly like a sheep, but I see the wolf lurking under his skin—and I wonder if it would be ready to come out and play with a little coaxing.

“Lock the door after I leave,” I say.

Morgan rolls her eyes. “Baby, he’s harmless.”

I want to take her over my knee for that eye roll, to strap her back to the stockade and watch her come on that fake cock while she chokes on mine until the sun has long been in the sky. And I would be doing that if I didn’t have work to do. If I didn’t have two people now depending on me for survival.

I get on the mattress, the bed dipping under my weight until my hand is wrapped around the column of her throat. The letters M I N E are inked on my knuckles, made bolder and more pronounced against her ivory tattooed skin by the light of the roaring fire. I smile every time I see those tattoos wrapped like a necklace around her pretty throat. Not only because she is mine, but because those tattoos were inked on me by the little lamb currently in my grip.

“Lock the door, Morgan.”

I’m not gripping her throat hard, so she grins at my order. I bite my tongue at her brattiness, but my wife would not be mine if she’d didn’t test me. It’s the switch in her—something I admire, but not when I’m trying to take her safety seriously. My grip tightens, and I take her lower lip between my teeth and bite down until she’s gasping into my mouth.

“Lock the door.” I pull back so I can see her now dilated eyes. I know her cunt is soaking for me after that, but I’m not going to give in to her.

I release her throat, and she sucks in a deep breath, though the corners of her lips are still upturned. “What do I get if I listen?”

I chuckle, the tone deep and dark. “You get to continue wearing clothes in front of our guest. ”

Morgan’s eyes widen. “You’re a bad boy.”

I kiss her forehead before standing. “I never claimed to be good—nor am I.”

She shakes her head because I know she disagrees with that statement, but I don’t take the bait. We’ve had this debate many times, and I’m not going to argue with her right now because I know she’s attempting to distract me from leaving.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I’ll use my key to get in if you’re still sleeping. Which I hope you are.”

Her smile turns mischievous at that. Morgan and I have been together since we were teens, so she knows me inside out, and we’ve done a lot of things. Waking her up by coming inside her would be one of the tamest things we’ve shared, and I know it’s something she likes.

I grab a sky-blue beanie off the dresser and put it over my head before I lean down to give her a final kiss. “Get some rest.”

She salutes me, and my palm itches to spank her as I exit our bedroom. Once I’m out the door, I wait for thirty seconds knowing Morgan will debate if she should follow my instructions or not. It takes forty seconds, but eventually I hear the lock click, and a warm satisfaction fills my stomach. Such a good little lamb.

Sometimes.