only in his socks and underwear. His mate laughed and his eyes narrowed.
“What?” she asked innocently. “You look cute.”
“I’ll show you cute.” He stripped off his briefs and his cock slapped his stomach.
Stalking her, he turned her around and went to work on the tiny zipper at the back of her dress. It was tasteful, a slim lovely column that accented her body like a glove. And he wanted it off, now.
Once she was naked, he led her to the bed, striving not to jump her like the starving wolf he was. He wanted to be gentle, but there was a greater fire tonight. A passion that wouldn’t be denied. He wanted to take charge. The answering heat in her eyes said she wanted it, too.
Pulling her onto the bed, he grasped both wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head, pinning them to the covers. He loved that position, the way it made her look vulnerable to be taken by him. At his mercy. The way it exposed her breasts to him, ripe and waiting to be sucked.
“I’m going to suck and lick every inch of you,” he asserted. “Then I’m going to slide my cock into you and fuck your sweet pussy until you scream.”
“Talk is cheap.”
Giving her a feral grin, he proceeded to do as he’d warned. Bending, he sucked her pretty nipples—one, then the other, nibbling them until they stood proud and tight. She squirmed, and he liked that.
“Don’t move your hands.”
Leaving her arms over her head, he moved lower. Licked a path down her flat tummy, to her thatch. Then lower, he mouthed the lips of her sex, chuckling when she spread her legs wider to give him better access.
“You like that, my pretty slut?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “I need you.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Eat me, please!”
With pleasure. He licked her mound, swirling his tongue until she was writhing. Twice he had to remind her to keep her hands still, and that seemed to excite her even more. Then he plunged his tongue between her folds, fucking her for a while, getting her nice and slick. He loved her taste, and pretty soon he’d relish her blood when he claimed her again.
He suckled her clit, not letting up until she was begging, hips bucking. He knew she wanted to reach down and pull at him, but he wouldn’t let her. His control heightened the eroticism. Finally, he moved up and crouched between her legs.
Lifting her thighs, he draped her legs over his shoulders. Her ass was in the air, her sex spread and glistening. Waiting for him to master.
Neither he nor his wolf could wait another second. Lining up his cock, he plunged into her moist, hot depths. She screamed, a sound of pure ecstasy. She loved this, craved more, and he gave it.
Cupping her ass in his hands, he pounded into her tight channel, spearing home again and again. Their joining was raw. Primal. Filled with lust and need, and the air around them reeked of pheromones and sex. It was real.
His climax built, and he felt the tingle at his spine. The tightening of his balls trying to climb into his body as it prepared for release. And then he exploded, shooting inside her again and again, the force and sheer pleasure of it almost turning him inside out. This surpassed every time before. He’d never come so hard in his life.
Lowering her to the bed, he fucked her toward release. His fangs descended and he nosed into the curve of her neck and shoulder. And struck, her blood like honey on his tongue.
Her orgasm shattered and she cried out, writhing on his rod and squeezing out more of his juices as he rode the aftershocks. At last they came down together, and he withdrew his fangs, licking the wounds closed. Then he wrapped her in his arms, her head on his chest.
“That was perfect,” he murmured, kissing her head. “I love you, my wife. My mate.”
“And I love you.” She nuzzled his chest, snuggled close. “I’m so glad we found each other.”
“Me, too. I think it was fate.”
“Same here. I never dreamed I’d meet the love of my life while studying wolves. Not to mention that he would
“Not long ago, you weren’t so thrilled about that.”
“I was scared,” she said simply. “Now I’m nothing but happy and in love with my mate.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, baby. Because you’re stuck with me from now on.”
“That’s the best news I’ve ever heard.”
Drowsy, they drifted off to the sounds of the party still in swing outside, blissed-out and at peace. Daria had completed him, had tamed his restless, lonely spirit—not to mention the real spirits that had once plagued him. He didn’t have to run anymore. She loved him, and was home with him, with the Pack, for good.
A man couldn’t ask for more.
Miles away, the white wolf sat on her haunches and howled out her grief. Her pain. She hadn’t gotten what she’d come for, her plans delayed time and again.
But soon. The day was coming when she
That would be the day Nick Westfall paid for his sins.
In his own blood.
Turn the page for an exciting preview of the first in the
Torn Between Two Lovers e-book trilogy by Jo Davis,
RAW
Coming in October 2013 from InterMix.
Anna Claire sipped her dirty martini and observed the restaurant from her soothing darkened corner. From back here, nobody could see her slip off her Pradas under the table and stretch her aching feet.
This place was her domain, her baby. Every stick of furniture, every glass, every fork, knife, and spoon belonged to her. The staff moved as efficiently as a well-oiled machine under her ownership and also the direction of her brilliant head chef, Ethan Collingsworth. They respected her and were quite terrified of Ethan’s wrath, an arrangement that suited her just fine.
She didn’t need to be bosom buddies with her employees to be a success. Quite the opposite had proven true in her previous business experience. She merely needed intelligence, persistence, and lots of money.
Anna had plenty of all three.
Which didn’t explain why she was sitting alone in a corner booth of her own high-end New York establishment, feeling sort of down, when by all rights she should be basking in the glow of two years of hard work come to fruition, from conception to success.
Soft laughter and a tinkling of glasses drew her attention toward a table on the far side of the main dining room. A group of four was having some sort of celebratory gathering, and they looked happy as they toasted with champagne. At ease and on top of the world. A promotion perhaps or the landing of a big account. An engagement or a pregnancy. Whatever the occasion, Anna couldn’t help but feel proud that they’d chosen her restaurant for their celebration. On the way to her own table, Anna had welcomed them and told them so.
But as she watched, a sense of melancholy stole over her. Nobody had ever really celebrated
