Shifters Gone Wild; Collection
Page 115
“Raise your arms.” When she did, he pulled off the camisole.
He palmed her breasts and flicked the nipples with his thumbs. His skin was callused, the roughness exciting against the delicate buds.
“So pretty,” he said, and switched to a guttural Portuguese.
He tongued and sucked her nipples until they were wet and rosy. Somehow she ended up on her back, panties off and knees bent, wide open to him.
He dragged off his jeans and crawled over top of her, his hard face intent on her slick folds. He gripped her hips and swiped a hot tongue over her sex in slow, languorous licks that made her whole body quiver.
He swirled his tongue around the swollen furl of her clit before moving to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, nipping and stroking them. He even moved down her leg to the anklet, sliding his tongue erotically under and over it.
From far off, she heard her own moans of pleasure.
She stroked her hands over her body, pinching her nipples and fingering her mound, hardly knowing what she did, but desperate for more. “Please, Nic. Touch me…”
“Here?” He slid his mouth up her inner leg to close warm lips around her aching clit.
Her lungs seized. “Yes. There.”
He settled in to suck and nibble her like they had all the time in the world. Taking her close, and then backing off to stroke her thighs or ass or breasts.
He stopped and rose up over her. She opened passion-dazed eyes to see him break off a stalk of lavender from a pot on the nightstand. He trailed it over her neck, the sweet-sharp scent filling her nostrils.
She moistened her lips. “Nic?”
He tapped her throat with the lavender stalk. “Close your eyes.”
She obediently shut them and stilled as he traced the soft spike down around her breasts. He brushed it over each nipple, then continued down her abdomen to her inner thighs, stroking the flower over her in light-as-air, tantalizing touches. He finished by tucking it into her anklet.
Then he was back kissing and stroking her again. This time his hands and mouth were sure and steady. Taking her over, controlling her every response. Winding her tighter and tighter until her whole world was Nic and his clever mouth and work-roughened hands.
“Please,” she begged, and reached for his head.
“Soon,” he crooned against her slick, tender center. “I want you to remember this.”
She moved her head against the sheets. “I will, I will.”
“Shh.” He captured her wrists in his hands and pressed them against the mattress, and something about that sexy dominance sent her hurtling toward the edge.
Her hips bucked. A cry of pleasure ripped from her throat.
Nic pulled away and she sobbed out his name, but he crawled on top of her and thrust inside. And that was perfect, exactly what she needed—him stroking hard and fast while she clenched around him and rode the orgasm in a wild arc of joy and need and love.
He caught her face between his hands and pressed a kiss to her open mouth. Then he stilled and came with a low growl.
“Mine. You’re never leaving me now.”
“Yours,” she agreed. Between them, the mate bond had solidified—a shining cord of light and emotion that she could almost touch.
His eyes flickered and she felt his wonder through their bond…wonder and an ocean of love that swept through her, warming her down to her toes.
“It’s beautiful,” he said as he settled on top of her, careful to take some of his weight on his forearms.
“Mm.” His skin was damp with sweat. She licked the side of his throat, taking his taste inside her—masculine, a bit salty, and all Nic.
Almost, she could thank Blaer for sending her to California and Nic.
She wrapped herself tighter around her mate’s hot, hard body…and smiled.
* * *
Excerpt of Saving Jace (#4, Fada Shapeshifters)
Best Shifter Novel of 2018 ~ Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewer’s Choice Awards
Shifters. Dark fae. And a human who’s more than she seems…—>
Evie almost didn’t see him.
It was after eleven, and she was walking home from a late shift at the restaurant. Thunder rumbled and raindrops splattered onto the asphalt. She raced the last few yards down the alley and onto the narrow path that wound through her tiny backyard. The lavender her mom had planted was about to bloom. The purple spikes trembled in the rising wind, their scent mixing with the coming storm.
Suddenly, every hair on her nape lifted. Someone was watching her. She halted and glanced around. The yard was dark save for the light cast by a single bulb over her back door.
There. A man huddled next to the stoop.
It was his eyes that gave him away, an unearthly green glow in the gloom. His breath shuddered in, and the chunk of quartz hanging from a cord around his neck caught the light.
Earth fada. With those glowing eyes and the quartz, he had to be.
Without taking her gaze from him, Evie scrabbled in the garden for something she could use as a weapon. The fada were shapeshifters: hard, dangerous creatures who rarely interacted with humans. An earth fada lurking outside her door could only mean trouble.
Her fingers closed on a rock. She came back to her feet and raised it threateningly. “Get the hell out of here.”
The man gazed back at her, unblinking. Then his lips curved. The bastard was laughing at her.
Anger shivered through Evie. Anger, and fear. Her younger brother Kyler was in the house—at least, he was supposed to be. She had to get this man—this fada—out of here.
“Did you hear me?” Her fingers tightened on the rock. “I want you gone. Now.”
His eyes closed. The small smile faded, and he rested his head against the concrete foundation. “Can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
She inhaled sharply as he slid sideways, boneless as a ragdoll. Was it a trick?
Several seconds ticked past. The man didn’t move.
She took a step forward. That’s when she smelled the blood, sharp, metallic.
Fuck. She darted a glance around her. She lived in a rowhouse, with three houses to one side of her and six to the other. Usually you couldn’t walk two yards without a neighbor popping out to see what was up. Where was nosy Mrs. Linney when you needed her? Or Kyler, for that matter?
“Hey.” She nudged the shifter’s shin with her toe. “You all right?”
When he didn’t move, she dashed up the steps to the back door and yelled for her brother. “Kyler?” She pounded on the door. “Open up! It’s me, Evie.”
No answer.
She set her jaw. Would it kill him to be where he was supposed to be for once? She dropped the rock and dug in her backpack for her keys, her eyes on the motionless earth fada.
Her fingers closed on the keys. She shoved the house key in the lock and pushed open the door. The kitchen was empty but the light was on. She dropped her backpack on the nearest chair.
Her brother sauntered into the room, tall and thin and full of sixteen-year-old attitude until he saw her face. “Evie? What’s the matter?”
“Outside.” She jerked her chin at the back door. “A shifter. He’s hurt—bleeding.”
“Seriously?” Kyler pushed past her and vaulted over the railing to the injured man.
Evie was right behind. “Hurry. I have a bad feeling about this.”
Somehow, she knew she had to get the shifter inside—and soon—or he was dead. The fada were the killers of the magical world—assassins and mercenaries. If this man was injured, someone dangerous was after him.
Kyler slid his hands under the fada’s shoulders and head. “Grab his legs.”
She hurried to obey. The rain was pouring down now, drenching all three of them.
“Ready?” Kyler asked.
“Yep.”
“One, two, up,” he said, and they lifted him.
Evie staggered, struggling to keep her end up. “Damn, he
’s heavy.”
“Here, let me.” Kyler moved his hands lower on the shifter’s back, taking more of the weight.
Together the two of them maneuvered the limp body up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Her brother raised a dark brow. “Where should we put him?”
“The floor, I guess.”
They set him down on their sad excuse of a vinyl floor. Evie swiped the rainwater from her face and peered down at the unconscious man. His face and shoulders were wet, but the dark stain spreading across his T-shirt wasn’t from the rain.
While Kyler locked the door, Evie scrubbed her hands in the kitchen sink and squatted down for a closer look.
Despite her worry, she couldn’t help noticing how good-looking he was. A lean, powerful build. Warm brown skin. High, broad cheekbones and thick black lashes spiked with water drops. But then, the fada had a few drops of fae blood, and with it a touch of the fae’s beauty.
She eased up his T-shirt and sucked in a breath. He had a deep slash across half his lower abdomen, and there was another small but deeper wound right above it.
“Damn,” said Kyler. “Somebody cut him good.”
She nodded grimly. “Get me something to clean it with. Hot water, but not too hot.”
Kyler nodded and filled a bowl with warm water. Meanwhile, Evie found a couple of clean kitchen towels, and then knelt next to the fada and dabbed at the blood. From what she knew about first-aid, the wounds weren’t life-threatening. Neither was spurting blood, which meant the knife or whatever had cut him hadn’t hit an artery. And the blood seemed to be clotting.
The biggest danger was probably infection, and hopefully he’d be out of here before she had to worry about that.
She wrung out the cloth and dabbed at the gashes again. She’d heard somewhere that whiskey disinfected a wound, but only thing she had in the house was a six-pack of beer.
“Do you think we should pour some beer on it?” she asked Kyler. “You know, to kill the germs?”
“No.” The earth fada’s eyes opened. The intense green had faded to hazel. “Use…my quartz.”
Evie didn’t know much about shifters, but everyone knew earth fada had a special connection with their quartz. This man’s looked like a run-of-the-mill rock to her, but what did she know?
She reached for the pendant.
“No.” He grabbed it himself. “Don’t touch. Only…me.”
“Okay.” She jerked her hand away. “Take it easy. I’m just trying to help.”
The fada’s fingers toyed with the quartz, and it started to glow the same green as his eyes had. His lips moved, and the blood stopped seeping. His wounds seemed to close a bit, too.
“Wow,” said Kyler.
The fada’s head dropped back onto the vinyl. “Can’t.”
He released the pendant. The quartz lost its glow and turned back into a plain, smoky gray with a touch of purple. Pretty, but nothing out of the ordinary.
She swallowed. “So what can I do?”
His eyes shut. “Nothing.”
She sat back on her haunches. “Look, you are not going to die in my kitchen. You got that?”
He just grunted.
Kyler dropped onto the floor on the other side of the shifter. They met each other’s eyes over his body.
“Maybe I should call an ambulance,” she said.
“What good would that do? Fada use their own healers, and I’m not sure a human doctor could help anyway.”
“They could clean it out and stitch him up.”
Outside the storm boomed. Wind whipped through the trees and rain drummed against the kitchen windows. A crash of thunder shook the house. She and Kyler stared at each other but neither moved to take out their phones.
Her shoulders slumped. It had been a long day. First, she’d gone to her biology class at the community college and then she’d rushed home to work her waitress shift. Now she was exhausted, out of ideas.
Hopelessness rolled over her. “He’s going to die,” she said dully. “And take us along with him.”
Kyler’s throat worked. “There’s nothing we can do.”
The earth fada roused himself to growl, “Fucking fae. He’s messing with your minds—you have to fight it.”
“What do you mean?” Evie asked.
The fada’s hand was on his quartz again. The muscles of his neck strained with effort. The glow infused it again.
“Touch me,” he gritted.
“Touch you?” she repeated. What was the point?
“Now. Anywhere.”
She and Kyler glanced at each other and then Evie shrugged. “All right.”
She took the earth fada’s hand while Kyler touched him on the shoulder. Nothing happened.
Evie blew out a breath. Why bother? She was so tired, and soaked from the rain. Maybe she should just lie down…
Then something odd happened. The hand touching the earth fada warmed. She frowned down at it. The heat moved up her arm to her shoulder, and then she and Kyler were enfolded in its warmth.
Her brother’s mouth dropped open. “What the fuck?”
“Night fae,” the fada rasped. “Don’t…talk. He—hear you.”
Evie’s stomach did a complete flip. “A night fae? That’s who’s after you?”
She’d only seen one night fae in her entire twenty-six years, but one had been enough. He’d been coming out of an after-hours club in downtown Baltimore, tall and loose-limbed with black hair and pale skin. She’d stopped and stared. He was rock-star sexy in his tight black shirt and leather pants.
Then he’d turned and caught her looking—and smiled, a cold show of teeth. Darkness washed over her, powerful, seductive. When she’d shuddered, his smile had only increased.
Evie had sprinted out of the alley, his mocking laugh echoing in her ears.
The earth fada gave a terse nod. “Afraid so.”
Evie shut her eyes. What had she done?
For the most part, the fae kept to themselves, considering humans as somehow less—which was fine with her. You did not want to attract the attention of a fae. You especially didn’t want to attract the attention of a night fae.
She looked at her white-faced brother, the brother she’d promised her mom to protect, and stifled a moan.
The rain eased. They all heard the crunch of gravel.
The night fae was right outside.
Evie grabbed the fada’s hand with both of hers and prayed. Hard.
THE END
* * *
When Jace is stabbed by a fae assassin, Evie takes the sexy shifter into her home—and her heart.
But now she’s the fae’s new target—and the Darktime isn’t over.
Start the next book in Rebecca Rivard’s award-winning Fada Shapeshifters world now!
SAVING JACE
About Rebecca Rivard
Rebecca Rivard read way too many romances as a teenager, little realizing she was actually preparing for a career. She now spends her days with dark shifters, seductive fae and alpha vampires—which has to be the best job ever. When she’s not writing, she walks, bikes and kayaks in the Chesapeake Bay area with her guitar-playing, storytelling husband.
Sea Dragon’s Hunger was the 2019 RONE runner-up for Best Short Paranormal, and her Fada Shapeshifters Series was voted Best Shifter Series of 2018 in the Paranormal Romance Guild’s Reviewer’s Choice Awards. She also writes books in the Vampire Blood Courtesans world as well as her own upcoming Vampire Syndicate Romance world.
To stay informed and be eligible for giveaways and sneak peeks of upcoming novels, go to rebeccarivard.com or sign up for Rebecca’s newsletter.
Beginnings
J.A. Belfield
Take a trip back in time with these two beautiful novellas about love strong enough to bind for eternity.
INSTINCT
Werewolf Sean Holloway treats the village marketplace like a sexual buffet, though his charm does little to win over his latest entrée of choice. Whether because of
Jem Stonehouse’s unique scent, her headstrong nonchalance, or the fact he is forbidden to see her by his pack’s rules, Sean wants her.
When Jem is nothing but flippant toward his advances, he pursues her with vigour, stealing moments alone with her without a libido-driven agenda.
The new and heady experience for him drives their relationship beyond romantic interest, and straight toward love.
That is, until Jem learns the truth about Sean’s heritage. Because knowledge of the existence of werewolves leads to only one outcome: death.
Will Sean defy his own pack to save the woman he loves?
ETERNAL
An unmarried woman living in a house of men breeds hearsay and lore.
If only the villagers knew the truth.
It’s not Jem Stonehouse’s marital status that brings unwanted strangers to town, however. It’s that she is the only female werewolf in existence — a prize to any pack.
Sean Holloway, the love of Jem’s life, has gone to great lengths to protect her. As a new attack becomes imminent, Sean realizes he must take greater measures with Jem’s safety, or risk losing her forever.
His first task must be to marry her, but a force greater than the largest werewolf stands in his way.
Her mother.
BEGINNINGS
Published by J.A. Belfield
www.jabelfield.com
Copyright © 2019 Julie Anne Belfield
Originally published individually as Instinct [January 2012] and Eternal [July 2012]
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.