by Thorne, Elle
The panties dropped.
His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over taut nipples, a delicate rose pink against her ivory flesh.
He pinched a nipple, and she gasped in response. Niko lowered his head and touched his tongue to the pearlized tip. His thumb caressed the other nipple, rolling over it, pressing it in, then pulling on it, pinching it.
Her eyes were fixed on him, pupils dilated. Her scent rose, growing stronger.
He lowered his hand, roaming over her stomach while his tongue toyed with her nipple and he alternately sucked and flicked it.
He grazed it with his teeth as his hand passed over her thigh and made for the moist target at the apex. Her heartbeat thudded in his mind, trying to match his. He slid a finger over her sensitive little core, and she flinched, almost jumping.
He parted her folds with his fingers, enjoying the scent that rose toward him, stronger, more musky, sexier than ever.
He glided a finger along her wet folds, near her hot entrance.
A whimper escaped her. She spread her legs farther.
The scent of her became sheer torture. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he lowered himself, eye level to her pussy, where a nicely trimmed triangle of dark-blonde hair greeted him, flagging his target.
Niko paused to breathe her in, letting her essence sit on his tongue, teasing himself with the taste of her scent.
One thumb on her clit, the other hand parting her, he blew on her mound, a slight breeze cooling the warm flesh.
His cock pulsed with need, demanding entrance. Niko shoved his desire aside. This was for her. He led her to the bench seat on the deck and sat her down.
Then he spread her legs and leaned back, admiring the view.
“Beautiful. Gorgeous.”
Her eyes flashed amber.
* * *
Sophie’s lungs still burned from holding her breath while he was touching her.
Niko’s smile was pure panther, pure predator, and pure lust. Sophie leaned back. Her breathing was erratic, as much as the clenching of the muscles deep in her channel was.
She gripped the ledge of the bench seat with her toes, spreading herself wider for him, wanting him. He leaned in, his breath hot on her sex, so very different from the coolness of the sea wind.
He swiped at her with his tongue, from the top of her entrance up over her clit.
Oh, heaven help me.
She jerked in response, her muscles within seizing. That was the moment he drove two fingers in, stretching her while she was in the middle of flexing. She wiggled and pitched her body forward, wanting more of his fingers.
He licked her clit, his tongue flicking with superhuman speed while his fingers pumped in and out, over and over.
“Slow.” She panted. “Slow down…” Another pant. “Or I’ll…”
He picked up speed, pressing on, relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure.
Ohhh, damn.
“No. No. No.” She had no idea why she was saying no, or why she was fighting this.
“Give it to me, now.” His demand was a growled hush.
She pushed her legs out, putting them on his shoulders, locking his head between them, while deep inside her muscles tightened around his fingers.
She screamed his name as a series of waves struck her and carried her into a monsoon of pleasure. She gushed her orgasm, releasing it onto his face.
Sophie squealed.
She’d never done that before. She gasped as another series of waves seized her.
Another scream and she pitched forward. Tugging him upward, she kissed his lips, tasted herself, licked his bottom lip.
She fumbled with his zipper while she kissed him, their tongues tangling in an eternal dance.
Finally! She freed his hardness and took him in her hand. She pulled him close, rocked her hips, and pressed him against her moisture.
“I’m not done pleasing you.” His words were sex-husky.
“I want a totally different type of pleasure.”
She guided his length inside her, enjoying the velvety texture as it slipped from her hand into her waiting warmth.
“That feels incredible,” she whispered in his ear, her words punctuated by the waves lapping against the side of the boat.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted herself closer to him, taking him in as deep as she could.
“You feel incredible,” he groaned.
He began to pump, drawing out, then pushing in, deeper and deeper, pressing against the back walls, making her gasp with every thrust.
He watched his cock going into her, taking her, branding her. And she watched his face, relishing the look of passion merged with love.
She squeezed her muscles, tightening around him, making him growl. He lifted his gaze to hers, leaned forward, locked her lips with his. She could still taste herself on his lips. It was a reminder of the amazing things he’d done to her with his mouth.
She dug her nails into the flesh of his neck, making him grunt with the pleasure and pain of it.
His grunting drove the tigress within her to greater heights. The sound of the waves lapping, their flesh slapping together, and her wetness slurping with every thrust was the greatest form of an aphrodisiac. His hands dug into her ass, raising her and pulling her closer.
He tore his lips away from hers. “You. Are. Mine.” With every word, he drove into her, deep, hard, pushing, demanding. Branding her pussy with his cock.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
His cock throbbing inside her, straining for release, swollen and ready to reach a pinnacle, Niko lowered his head, sank his canines into the ivory skin between her shoulder and neck and pierced her flesh.
She screamed her pleasure, pushed by his bite into the throes of an orgasm that had her grasping him with all her might, taking him deeper, seeking his release.
He pulled his canines out and licked the spot as he drove deeper and shot his heat into her channel.
With every spurt, she felt as if lava was coming out of him. She moaned as another climax pulled her into a frenzy, her body growing stiff, tiny shards of light exploding in the back of her head, somewhere behind her eyes.
Deep within, her tigress roared her pleasure, roared their bonding.
Epilogue
A few days later…
Sophie and Niko had spent two days on the island while Rafe and Jax returned home.
Now, Sophie and Niko were in Rome. She took his hand, and they walked up the stairs to the Tiero Villa.
The afternoon sun baked the air with the fragrance of pines. The ochre color of the villa was welcoming to Sophia, though a part of her dreaded the upcoming events.
Her father would be here. There’d be a showdown, the one she’d anticipated and avoided.
One of many she’d anticipated and avoided.
She took a deep breath.
“I’m here, you know.” Niko’s voice was low. “I’m always here.”
Giving him a sideways glance, she nodded. “I know. Some things are difficult, though, no matter how many reinforcements you have.”
“Maybe you’ll be lucky and you won’t have to deal with him. Not yet.”
“Maybe. If he’s not back from Sicily yet. He goes down there to pout. Pouting for him can take days.”
“So, he’s like you—he runs?”
Sophie quirked a brow at him. “You didn’t have to say it that way.” She squeezed his hand. “But you’re right. I do take after him that way.”
Niko opened the door for her.
The entryway was charged with emotions; she scented concern and fear. She tried to pinpoint who the scent was coming from but couldn’t. Too many different scents. She glanced at Niko, whose nostrils flared; he’d scented the same.
They moved into the living room.
Vax, Callie, Rafe, and Jax were sitting on the couch and the love seat. Near them, a woman whose green eyes almost seemed to glow was sitting in a wing chair, and
a giant of a man was standing behind them.
Rafe made quick work of the introductions. “Kane, Astra, my sister Sophie and her mate Niko.”
Sophie watched Vax. There was no sign of surprise on his face at the announcement she had a mate, so it was obvious Rafe had briefed everyone.
She felt relieved she didn’t have to go through any explanations.
She still took the tea, waiting to announce the baby, hoping to avoid the hoopla.
“I’ve heard about you from Mae and Doc.” Sophie smiled at Astra and Kane, the huge bear shifter standing behind Astra.
Astra smiled, but her smile was strained and there were circles under her eyes.
“What’s going on?” The worry in the air was easy to scent.
“Maia,” Callie said.
“Is she okay?” Sophie looked to Rafe for an answer.
In Dallas, Sophie had thought she might have been the one who was closest to Maia, but that wasn’t saying much. The exotically beautiful, curvy leopard shifter kept to herself.
Rafe frowned. “She’s gone.”
“Where did she go?” Sophie found it difficult to believe Maia would leave without having a job lined up. Rafe had provided her with work, and she had a place to stay, here at the villa. “Why would she leave?”
Jax stood and began pacing. “I think she left because of me. She cared for Rafe, that was obvious. Then when I entered the picture…” Her face was etched with concern.
“Even so,” Rafe said. “I never gave her a reason to think there was anything between us. And you never exchanged more than a greeting with her. It’s not logical that she would just up and go.”
“Is her suitcase here?”
“Everything is gone.”
“So she moved out,” Kane said, making it sound as if that was perfectly logical.
It did seem logical, Sophie had to admit. “So, why the panic?”
“She was seen having a heated conversation with another shifter,” Rafe said.
The answer seemed simple to Sophie. “Who? Just talk to him.”
Vax shook his head. “No one we know.”
“So he’s trespassing? And no one can find him?”
“I’m putting someone on it,” Rafe said.
“I’m around if you need help,” Niko said.
Sophie looked at the man she’d fallen in love with. He kissed her on the temple.
“It seems I haven’t paid you for the last job,” Rafe said.
“I’d say I’ve been more than paid. Doubly compensated.” Niko squeezed her hand, his eyes resting on her stomach.
Sophie turned toward Astra and Kane before a blush could threaten to give her away. “How long are you in town? Do we get to spend some time with you?”
Astra glanced back at Kane. “We’re going to Monaco.”
Sophie gasped. “That’s where my mother is.”
“She’s the one who told me where Anya was,” Rafe said. “Jax and I were thinking of going there, so Mother can meet Jax.”
Sophie hadn’t seen her mother since her parents had split up. She stared at Niko, forming a question with her expression.
“You want to go?” he asked her.
“If you don’t mind.”
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. “Then let’s go.”
Forgotten
Anya Masenti is a passionate, curvy white tiger shifter bodyguard nicknamed the Ice Princess.
Bryson Courtland is a leopard shifter billionaire who needs a specific bodyguard.
Problem?
Anya wants nothing to do with the job.
Problem escalation?
Their sexual attraction could be the death of them.
That’s not even mentioning the secrets that follow Anya from Bear Canyon Valley.
Chapter One
Once. Just once, Anya would like to be in America for Christmas.
Not that Christmas was a big deal for someone who had no family. Anya Masenti, a white tigress shifter, half-Puerto Rican, half-Italian, raised in America, was in Monaco. Yes, all the way across the big ocean, on assignment. She hadn’t been back to the good ole USA since she was a teen.
She stopped the Peugeot and stared at the white villa in front of her.
No Christmas decorations.
She blinked her wishful and wistful thinking away and reassessed the villa.
Gated entrance. The villa was not atypical for one in Monaco, though there was a large range in types of villas here. Some were newer and techier looking, and some were of the older, more sophisticated generation. Either way, there was a lot of money in Monaco.
Why didn’t Cas find someone more familiar with Monaco to send for this assignment? There are more experienced agents not far away.
She opened the file and read the details again, although she felt she already had them memorized, she’d studied them so much, and they were sparse.
Client: Bryson Courtland.
Client bio: An American who’d spent a decade in Europe. A shifter. Leopard.
Mission: Personal security.
There were no more details than that. Was she doing a threat assessment? Was she his personal bodyguard? A male agent would have been better suited for this, considering the client. She glanced at Bryson Courtland’s photo, paperclipped to the paperwork. Heat traveled up her chest to her cheeks, warming them. She didn’t need to look into the mirror to know her pale complexion had a red glow to it. She chastised herself for the blush.
It’s not like I’m a virgin.
Her tigress growled.
I know, I know! It’s been forever since I’ve kissed a man. Or felt anything for a man. I get that. What am I supposed to do, randomly sleep with men because I get horny?
Her tigress roared this time.
Anya wasn’t sure whether her tigress had roared in agreement or disagreement, so she tuned her out because she wasn’t interested in getting into a snarling debate right now. She didn’t need to be late for her appointment.
She glanced at the file again. Studied the photo. The man in the photo—Bryson Courtland, she reminded herself—was striking.
Maybe striking didn’t quite cover it.
He was hot.
Sex-a-stick hot.
Dark haired and blue-eyed, a combination she hadn’t seen much of. She drank in the planes of his face, her gaze staying on his full lips far longer than it should have. His cheekbones were well defined, his hair wavy and thick—the kind of thick you wanted to run your fingers through.
God, yes, hot. Totally hot. Sex-on-a-damned-stick hot!
Her tigress chuffed in appreciation.
Oh, hell to the no. We do NOT sleep with clients. Ever.
The tigress snarled in Anya’s head, but she did back off.
Thank goodness.
It didn’t list his marital status or if he had any children. All it said was he was an American. Cas was usually much more thorough in creating a dossier for a new assignment. She hefted the file. Yes, definitely lighter than typical client files.
She took a deep breath and put the car into gear. Time to head into the villa to meet the client. She nosed the car toward the wrought iron gate. The driveway was so immaculate, someone certainly manicured and swept it daily. Hell, maybe twice a day.
I guess that’s what this kind of money gets you.
Not that Anya wasn’t used to clients who had money. Tons of money. But not this kind. Not Monaco-kind. What the hell did the man do for a living? And why didn’t the dossier cover that?
I’m going to chew Cas a new one for this. It’s bullshit, sending me in here half-prepared. You don’t send your people into battle ill-equipped.
She lowered the window and pressed on the silver button.
“Yes?” a feminine voice said.
Wife?
Housekeeper?
Secretary?
Anya would find out soon enough.
“Anya Masenti. I have an eleven o’clock with Mr. Courtland.”
Th
e gate glided open, swinging wide with a low mechanical whir.
Anya pulled in, passing columns garnished with stone lions. Then she heard the voice on the speaker at the gate giving her directions. All she could hear was a voice, unable to make out the words since she’d driven too far past the speaker, even for her supersensitive shifter hearing. She’d figure it out when she got inside.
She pulled up behind a Lamborghini.
A Lamborghini, for Pete’s sake.
She refrained from shaking her head. Yes, this Bryson Courtland had way more money than any other client she’d worked with.
God, I hope this doesn’t make him an asshole.
No matter how hot a guy was, if he was an asshole, then his hotness couldn’t make up for it. She braced herself mentally, preparing for the inevitability of his assholeness.
She put the Peugeot in park and got out, smoothing her business slacks, making sure the 9mm in her holster wasn’t creating too much of a budge.
She heard the sound of the front door opening and looked up, expecting the housekeeper.
Only this wasn’t the housekeeper.
Her breath was trapped in her lungs, which were unwilling to work. She stared.
Bryson Courtland stood in the doorway. Well over six foot, probably six-four, if she had to guess. His wide shoulders filled the doorway, dropping to a broad chest with muscles that flexed beneath a casual golf shirt. The chest tapered down, the shirt hugging his abs. An arm on the door pulled his shirt tighter, showing off those abs, emphasizing each segment in a six-pack. The pants flared into his thighs, quads that had definitely seen a gym, possibly even a soccer field.
Her tigress roared, definitely interested in Bryson and his leopard.
Anya gulped down the lust coursing through her, pushed her tigress away, and stepped toward the staircase leading to the front door.
“Ms. Masenti? Anya Masenti?”
His voice. God, that voice. Deep. Sexy to the extreme. A vibration rushed through her like the first tremors of an earthquake.
“I’m Anya Masenti.” Her voice held the same quiver coursing throughout her veins.