Mated to a Cajun Werewolf

by Selena Blake

  He dropped his hips a fraction, steepening the angle of penetration. She gasped and arched her back, pushing them away from the wall. Still holding her hips, he spun toward the seat across the back of the shower.

  Juliette loved that they were on the same wave length. She tucked her legs around his thighs and settled into his lap. It was her turn to control their love making.

  Linking her fingers behind his neck she let herself fall back, enjoying the way his cock moved inside her. Delicious pressure made her moan. He leaned forward and suckled a nipple into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the tip. She moaned a second time.

  When he’d licked his fill, she began a slow up and down rhythm. The tile bench was hard beneath her shins, but she hardly noticed as she moved against his cock. So hard. So big.

  His hands locked around her hips, aiding her movements. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him how much she loved him. How much she loved making love with him. But he pressed her hips down and back and his cock brushed against her g-spot, setting off an explosion of pleasure.

  “Oh!”

  She collapsed against him, her arms tightening around his shoulders. He murmured her name into her hair as they thrust against each other wildly. Dieu, it felt so good. He felt so good. So solid.

  “Come with me,” he whispered, his arms tightening around her.

  Oh André. His words set off the orgasm that had been building all afternoon. Watching his ass in those running shorts. Seeing him strip down naked. Joining him in the shower.

  “Yes…” Her pleasure spiraled out of control as her feminine muscles gripped him. His cock swelled inside her as his lips hovered against her neck and then she felt the tips of his teeth.

  André let out a low growl as he came, every muscle tensing beneath her. He own orgasm made her weak and breathless, but she wanted his bite more than anything.

  “Do it,” she whispered. A delicious shiver raced over her skin as his teeth sank into her shoulder. The mark of her mate. Her lover.

  Chapter Seven

  André cut their run short the next day to take care of some business. He’d taken a conference call in the Penthouse office. Sebastian knew something was up but André wasn’t going to let the cat out of the bag just yet.

  He felt like he was making negotiations for his life. A very precarious deal. Juliette was still everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. She seemed to be dealing with the loss of her last living brother. With the possibility that everything from her past life in Georgia was gone.

  He glanced through the open doors to where she lay snuggled on the sofa, watching TV. Tender when he needed her to be, strong too. Smart. Witty. Sensual.

  So sensual.

  Dieu. The things she’d done to him in the shower yesterday. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on the business at hand with memories of her touch still haunting his body.

  Worse, he knew he could sweep her into his arms right now and she’d react with just as much fire and passion. She would come apart beneath him, cling to him as she called his name.

  Sweat soaked his neck.

  He needed to keep his head in the game. Figure out if they had a future together before he let on to his brothers about Juliette…and their renewed connection. But that meant talking to her. Which meant discussing the past and the future. Bringing out emotions he’d gladly kept locked away for decades.

  Could he open up to her again? Should he just keep his pride intact and let her go? Did she want to go? If she didn’t, was he strong enough to push her away?

  No matter how off the charts the sex was, it was just sex. Before he’d ever had sex with her, he’d had her as a companion. And friend.

  He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. Moments in his past were so brutal they still took his breath away. And with all the fighting between the Vassars and the Deverauxs… He didn’t want to contemplate how his brothers would take the news. She’d broken his heart once.

  They might not be in a forgiving mood.

  And what of her business? He couldn’t ask her to give it up and move in with his Pack, could he? Would she make such a sacrifice?

  Would she hate him if he took her away from everything she’d ever known? He’d always thought, well, not always…up until that fateful day he’d thought they could weather any storm. But something had changed that day.

  Something he hadn’t been strong enough to change. Something he hadn’t known how to fight.

  She moaned and he realized she was sleeping. He stepped into the living room and turned off the TV.

  She looked so peaceful. Serene in a way she hadn’t seemed since he’d seen her standing in the airport, a force of nature to rival the approaching hurricane.

  Drawn to her, he knelt next to the sofa and brushed the hair back from her face. She grimaced and then moaned. Not with pleasure, but agony. Her hand gripped her stomach and his heart stalled.

  “Juliette. Cheri, what’s wrong?”

  She frowned as she opened her eyes. She pegged him with look that held both annoyance and pain.

  Until that moment, he hadn’t known he could be so scared. Everything about her posture and expression said she was not well. He was so used to never being sick. Used to pain going away quickly.

  “PMS. That’s what’s wrong.”

  “What can I do?”

  Her grimace deepened as she reached for the small pad of paper and pen on the coffee table. Then show wrote something. Thought for a moment and wrote something else.

  His eyebrows rose when she handed him the list. Tampons. Midol. Chocolate Chunk with Fudge ice cream.

  Swallowing his pride, he kissed her forehead and stood. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “You? I thought you’d just send someone. Don’t you have an assistant?”

  “Cheri, I think I can handle a quick trip to the pharmacy. Sit tight.”

  Half an hour later, as he stood in front of a kaleidoscope of colorful boxes, André wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. And he briefly considered calling the assistant Juliette had so rightly mentioned. There were different shapes. Colors. Materials. Absorbencies?

  Holy hell. His gaze skipped from one box to the next as a cold sweat broke out over his shoulders.

  Get a grip man. He’d fought in half a dozen wars, killed more vamps than he could count, and could run a four minute mile. He could pick up lady products. Right. No sweat.

  He rolled his shoulders and glanced left. Pregnancy tests. The cold sweat came back with a flourish. Pregnancy tests. Tests to tell if a woman was pregnant. Not a woman. Juliette. A test to see if he’d made Juliette pregnant.

  Holy hell. He needed to sit down. Catch his breath. Why did he feel like he’d been kicked in the ribs by a mule?

  A baby. He hadn’t even been considering—of course he hadn’t been. They were so temporary. Just a fling. A quick fling. Nothing concrete. Except that the idea of a child with Juliette’s smile and his eyes…

  He grabbed a test, then dropped a box of tampons in the cart too. Next stop, Midol. He plucked three boxes from the shelf and headed for the ice cream cooler.

  Juliette still couldn’t believe André had gone out for tampons all by himself. But as another cramp gripped her insides like a vice-grip, she was thankful she’d added Midol to the list.

  The elevator dinged a second later and he strode off, looking handsome and a bit woozy. Who knew feminine hygiene could knock a werewolf for a loop like that? But her heart swelled with happiness. He was a good man. She’d always known that, even when she told herself not to believe it.

  He handed her a bag from a store she didn’t recognize.

  Three boxes of Midol. She almost laughed. The ice cream was there too. And the tampons. And a pregnancy test?

  Her gaze swerved to his.

  “Do you know something I don’t?” The corners of her mouth turned up for the first time in hours. Then a cramp stabbed her again and she whimpered.

  He was next to her i
n an instant, pulling her against his side, sharing his warmth.

  “I don’t feel like I know anything right now,” he admitted, pressing his lips against her temple.

  Juliette wanted to weep at his tenderness. She’d been missing this all these years. And it was her fault!

  She groaned and sank against him. Maybe she was dreaming. The whole week. What if it was just one long, cramp induced dream? What if she were back in France? What if she woke up tomorrow, alone?

  “Yer not gonna be alone, cheri.” He lifted her then. “You should get some rest. I’ll bring yer pills.”

  He carried her into the office and laid her down on the couch. As she sank into the pillows he draped a throw around her, tucking her in as he would a child. A few short moments later he was back, his gaze skimming the directions on the pill box. He handed her a bottle of water and dropped two pills into her outstretched hand.

  She hoped the pills kicked in soon. Having her insides in a constant state of meat-grinder pain, yeah, she was over it.

  André settled into the chair behind the enormous wooden desk and glanced her way before getting back to work. Somehow, being in the same room with him made her feel better. Or maybe it was the pills. Either way, she enjoyed being close to him.

  When Juliette woke, she heard André’s deep voice. He was hunched over in the chair, elbows braced against his knees as he talked on the phone. His voice was tense.

  A negotiation gone bad?

  “Sebastian—that’s not fair mon frère.”

  Ahh. His brother.

  Juliette knew that André had been keeping touch with his family since they’d arrived in New Orleans. They were probably wondering why he didn’t come home. Had he told them about her yet?

  Judging by the frown marring his face, she guessed not.

  Why had he rented a hotel room instead of taking her back to his house? To his Pack? Was he worried about the Vassar/Deveraux history? She wasn’t.

  She sat up, drawing his attention. Her feelings for him were stronger than any old family feud.

  André hung up after giving a terse au revoir. “How are you feeling?” He came around and propped a hip against the desk, looking every bit the GQ tycoon.

  “Better.” She stepped toe-to-toe with him.

  “So the medicine helped? Ready for your ice cream?”

  She smiled, running her hands up his chest to settle on his shoulder. “Are you ashamed of me?”

  “What are you talkin' about, cheri?”

  “Why haven't we met your Pack? I know they call you every day.”

  “Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself?”

  He gave her what some would call a lecherous grin, but she thought of it as wolf-like. Predatory, with a hint of his canines.

  “No,” she managed to say.

  He kissed her shoulder and began massaging her lower back. “I read somewhere today that orgasms are good for soothing cramps,” he said, his voice soft and steady as he made her melt beneath his fingertips.

  She gave a sharp, quick laugh that jarred her aching insides. “You did, did you? Reading up on the female of the species?”

  “Maybe.” He sounded like a little boy, caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  Her smile grew. “I didn’t think you needed anatomy lessons,” she whispered against the stubble covered skin of his cheek.

  With a sexy growl, he spun her, reversing their positions. Her backside hit the desk and her breath hissed between her lips. He bent her over the desk, his hands brushing stacks of paper out of the way. She giggled, reminded of the clichéd office tryst.

  She’d never done it on a desk before.

  André kissed his way south, pausing between her breasts, his hands skimming from her hips to her waist. She soaked in the feel of him, everywhere he touched her, every caress. Eyes closed, she willed him to go on forever.

  “I feel like I’m unwrappin’ a present,” he murmured, untying the knot of her wrap dress. She hitched a thigh over his hip, opening herself to him.

  He spread the sides of the dress, his hot breath fanning over her skin. She knew the second he realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear because he sucked in a sharp breath and went completely still. When she opened her eyes, he was standing back, surveying her as if she was a plot of land he intended to conquer. And claim.

  Then he was touching her again. Hands against her thighs, up over her hipbones leaving chill bumps of desire in his wake. Across her ribcage until he covered her breasts. His lips joined the slow journey.

  Her cramps were long gone and a new ache had taken residence between her legs. Did every woman experience such bliss at the hands of her lover? She didn’t know, but hoped for their sakes that they did.

  He sucked a nipple into the wet heat of his mouth and used his tongue to tease it to attention. Her back arched, pressing her flesh into his waiting mouth. She hooked her hands over the edge of the desk above her head and held on tight.

  This wasn’t the frenzied mating in the. Nor was it the romp in the shower like yesterday.

  No. This was a slow seduction.

  Deliberate. And intoxicating.

  Part of her wished he’d forgo the foreplay and take her. But another part of her needed this slow, sweet torture. It was as if he was ignoring her neediest parts in order to tempt and torture her.

  His lips moved to her other breast, kissing the curve. He licked a path to her nipple and grazed it with his teeth. She lifted her head to look down at him. Fresh desire flooded her as his dark gaze met hers. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Naughty man. Naughty, wonderful man.

  “I also read that your nipples would be extra sensitive.”

  “That’s true.” She adored the way he rubbed his palm over the sensitive tip, round and around, barely touching but delighting every nerve ending with the delicious friction. “Did you read the Werewolf Seduction manual while I was sleeping?”

  He grinned. Then he worked his way south. Lips nipping her skin; his tongue darting out to leave a moist trail on his way down her torso. She held her breath as his lips sought and found her most intimate folds. He tasted her with the tip of his tongue, leaving her brutally aware of each and every touch.

  She swallowed back a groan as he put his hands on her thighs and spread her legs. His breath was warm against her skin.

  “Oh, André.” The words tumbled from her lips.

  “I want to see if you taste as good as I remember, petite. Are you wet for me?”

  “Oui,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

  She held her breath, waiting for that first touch of his tongue. Instead, a single finger traced her slit, up over her clit and back down. Over and over he touched her, made her want more, and when she was ready to scream her impatience, his hot mouth closed over her.

  Her hips lifted off the desk as he speared her pussy with his tongue. In and out. Tasting and teasing her.

  His hands held her thighs apart so he could feast on her. Arching her back, she clutched at the desk as tendrils of pleasure coursed through her.

  “Oh yes,” she whispered, her voice full of need. Release, sweet release was near.

  He sucked her clit into his mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “So...close...” Her fingernails dug deeper into the wood and her head thrashed back and forth. He sucked harder.

  “Please, André...”

  A shrill ring pierced the lust-filled fog. She groaned. André growled. The sound was not human. He slid up the length of her body, the head of his cock teasing her entrance.

  The phone continued to ring as he sank into her. His weight pressed her into the desktop and she locked her ankles behind his back.

  “Are you going to get that?”

  “They've invited us to dinner,” he said.

  They? Who was he talking—oh. His pack.

  When the phone stopped ringing, he pulled back, his cock slipping all the way out of her. She'd never felt so empty.

 
She didn't like it.

  She made a little sound of protest, and his hips jerked forward, driving home, filling her up. Her protests turned to coos of pleasure.

  “Do you want to go?” he asked, nipping her shoulder.

  “Of course!”

  “Then we’ll go,” he said as if it was no big deal. But for her, meeting his Pack, it was a big deal. The meeting would determine her future.

  She pried her fingers loose from the desk and slowly wrapped her arms around him, letting her fingers touch and explore him.

  Back and forth he moved, each thrust harder than the last. Her breasts bobbed up and down, brushing his chest. He made sounds low in his throat, deep masculine sounds of appreciation and ecstasy.

  As she began to spiral up the mountain of pleasure, he was right there with her. The aches from her cramps made the pressure inside her that much sweeter. He was right. Sex really did sooth cramps.

  Their moans filled the room as they moved against each other, fighting for that ultimate release.

  Her heart beat so hard she could feel the blood rushing through the arteries in her throat. He watched her. She stared right back.

  “Remember what I said about screaming my name?” he asked against her neck.

  “Hmm uh.”

  “Get ready to do it again.” Then he kissed her. Plundered her mouth. His tongue speared between her lips, danced an erotic tango with her own. Sensations swept over her, pushing her up and over the edge. He tore his lips from hers, groaning as every muscle in his body tightened. His cock pulsed deep inside her, and she hurtled into oblivion. Praying that the walls were soundproof, she screamed his name.

  * * * * *

  The massive brick home Sebastian had rented shortly after the fire had plenty of room, and several ways for a werewolf to blow off steam. André joined Jules and Laurent on the basketball court while they waited for the girls to finish dinner. Amanda and Angel had kicked him out of the kitchen, and he had the sneaking suspicion that they wanted to get to know his mate. Which was why he'd gotten them a hotel room away from the prying eyes and ears of his pack.