~Editor's Pick~
Pixie has been on the run from a dangerous man hunting her, and when she stumbles upon the Iron Sentinels’ clubhouse, she hopes for a brief moment of peace. But Beast, the club’s MC president, catches her trespassing. Instead of throwing her out, he gives her a choice—leave or work for her stay.
Though Pixie tries to keep her distance, she can’t deny the pull between them. Beast is everything she’s avoided—domineering, dangerous, and too damn tempting. As their chemistry intensifies, Beast tells himself he’s just keeping an eye on her, but Pixie is more than just a job to him. She’s fierce, vulnerable, and the attraction is undeniable.
When the past she’s running from catches up with her, Beast realizes he can’t walk away. He has to claim her as his—body, heart, and soul—before the danger consumes them both.
Pixie was aware of how close Beast stood. Too close, his frame a wall of heat and power as he looked down at her, eyes dark and wild.
Her breath hitched as his hand rose to cup her face. His touch, so gentle despite the calloused strength in his palm, made her heart lurch painfully against her ribs.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled, voice rough with restraint.
He brushed his thumb along her cheekbone, just under her eye, like he was memorizing the fragile curve of her.
Pixie couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. She should say no. She should turn away.
But the fire licking at her spine, the heat pooling low in her belly, and the ache that had been growing in her chest for days—none of it would be denied. Not anymore. And then he kissed her.
Savage. Starving. Like he’d been holding back for far too long and finally let the leash snap. His mouth crashed down on hers, demanding and deep, and Pixie’s world tilted.
She gasped, caught somewhere between surprise and surrender, but Beast didn’t hesitate. He devoured her like he’d been waiting forever, and maybe he had. Maybe they both had.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she felt every hard inch of his body press into hers. Pixie could even feel his erection, pressing up against his jeans.
Every wall she’d built, every rule she’d clung to cracked under the weight of him. And then her hands found his shoulders, gripping tight as the breath left her lungs. Don’t stop! her body screamed.
She tore her mouth from his just long enough to whisper it. “Don’t stop.”
That was all it took. Beast growled low in his throat, a sound that made her shiver, and then he kissed her again—fiercer, deeper, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a hunger that matched her own.
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