Isabelle's Mate (Shifters of the Bulgarian Bloodline Book 6)

by Daria Wright

  “Then kiss me,” she whispered. “I’ve been dying for you to kiss me since you walked into that room today.”

  He dipped his head quickly, pressing his lips to hers. He’d made a plan to let her lead, not to push. Her lips parted for him sweetly and he discovered that he loved the taste of her. He nipped at her lower lip and her hands tightened on his upper arms as she gave a startled cry of pleasure.

  Scott cupped the back of her neck with one hand, pulling her hair down from its neat arrangement with the other so that he could bury his fingers in all that wild red gold. Her hands moved to rest on his chest and slowly, almost shyly, she reached for the hem of his tee shirt.

  He shrugged the shirt off and she looked at him. “Boot camp?” she asked with a smile as she traced her fingertip down the center of his chest and over his tight stomach.

  He shrugged. “It helped, but farm work probably did more.”

  “I’ve got to get on a farm,” she said.

  He pulled back and looked at her. The silk dress was clinging to her like a second skin.

  “I’d love to have you out there,” he said, skimming his hands down her sides until he rested them on her hips. “But I don’t see how you could improve on this. You’re sexy as hell, darlin’.”

  She grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “Only one place I’m looking to go.” He could hear his accent deepening again, and he kissed her to stop her from commenting on it.

  She didn’t seem to mind. He held back a groan as her soft palms swept over his chest and down, her fingers dipping just under the waistband of his jeans. He picked her up and then sat down in the swing, pulling her dress up slightly so that she could straddle him. Then, with a move so quick it left her gasping, he’d tugged the silk over her head and tossed it to the gazebo floor.

  Catherine automatically crossed her arms over herself, but he gently tugged them away. She was beautiful. The swell of her breasts against the cups of her lace bra, the curve of her hips, the softness of her pale skin. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, but that wouldn’t be possible out here. He settled for leaning forward and trailing his tongue along the edge of her bra.

  “Oh,” she whispered as he teased her, sucking her nipples through the fabric, offering no direct stimulation. “Oh, Scott, that feels so good.”

  He flicked the bra clasp open and it joined the crumpled dress. He cupped her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her aching nipples. She arched into his touch, offering more of her body. He took the invitation, sliding his hands down to her panties. They were lace too and they matched the bra. He tried to find a way to get them off of her without her getting up.

  “Just rip them,” she panted as his tongue swirled around her nipple. “God, I need your hands on me!”

  Fine with him. He did as she’d said and then he cupped her pussy. She was already wet and he slid two fingers deep inside her, pumping them slowly and then moving faster. Catherine began to move her hips, riding his fingers desperately. So it had probably been as long for her as it had for him.

  Scott rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit and she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders.

  “Yes,” she groaned. “Oh, right there, right there...”

  He could tell that she was getting close and he wanted to feel it when she came, so he slowed down. She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder as one hand moved down his chest. She flicked open the button of his jeans and dragged down the zipper.

  When his cock was freed, she couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. At least 8 inches and very thick, it was everything she’d hoped for with her other lovers and never gotten.

  “I can’t wait anymore,” she said. “I need you.”

  He managed to find the presence of mind to pull a condom out of his wallet. Catherine took it from him and unrolled it over his cock, which was now jerking slightly. He needed her too.

  Scott’s head fell back as she caressed him. She took her time, touching him, teasing him. Finally, she couldn’t hold back a second longer. He gripped her hips and she sank down onto him.

  “Oh,” she moaned as he filled her up inch by inch. “Oh, wow. Scott...”

  The amazement in her eyes was enough to nearly push him over the edge. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

  “I’ll let you set the pace,” he said against her lips. “Take it however you want it, darlin’.”

  She moved slowly at first, flexing her hips, leaving him seated deep inside her. Gradually, as she grew accustomed to his size, she grew bolder. Scott clenched his jaw to keep from coming as she really got into a rhythm. She’d missed a calling at the rodeo for sure.

  Catherine was tight and so wet that he knew he wouldn’t make it much longer. He was determined to give her her pleasure first though. Her body jerked forward as he began rubbing her slick clit again as he sucked her already hardened nipple into his mouth again.

  She clapped the hand that wasn’t gripping his shoulder over her mouth to keep from being too loud. He groaned roughly as she rode him even harder, slamming her body down onto his, taking him to the hilt each time.

  “God, you feel good,” he said.

  “Not as good as you,” she replied breathlessly. “You’re so big...I can feel every inch of you inside me.”

  If she kept that up, he’d never make it. Scott grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her, nipping her lower lip again.

  “I need you to come for me, darlin’,” he said raggedly. “I promise next time, you’ll have me for as long as you want, but this time--” A particularly amazing twist of her hips had his words ending in a growl. “Catherine, please. Come for me.”

  She couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d been on the edge since the first thrust. “Keep touching me,” she begged.

  He rubbed her clit faster, kissing the side of her neck now, finding a sensitive space just under her ear.

  “Harder,” she moaned, working her hips frantically. “Harder, Scott, harder, oh...oh, God!”

  Her head fell back and he was the one who clapped a hand over her mouth this time. She was too far gone to remember it. Her pussy tightened all around him and he clenched his jaw, trying to hold back...but he couldn’t.

  Scott wrapped his free arm around her waist and thrust upward, making those gorgeous breasts bounce with each movement. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, Catherine whimpering against his palm while he did his best not to shout from his own amazed pleasure.

  When it was finally over, she collapsed forward, resting her head on his sweaty chest as he wrapped his arms around her and caught his breath.

  “I don’t even know what to say,” she said after a moment. “That was...that was...”

  “The best I have ever had,” he said.

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “I’m really glad you decided to meet me tonight.”

  He chuckled slightly at the proper tone of voice she’d used and kissed the top of her head. “Me too, darlin’. Me too.”

  Chapter Six:

  “How in the world are you getting married?” Linda asked as Scott packed a suitcase.

  “Mom, we’ve been over this,” he said patiently, stuffing a side pocket with socks.

  He’d told them almost everything. Not the part of about his plan to marry Catherine for money, of course. It didn’t matter anyway because that wasn’t his reasoning now.

  “I know,” she admitted. “But it just doesn’t make sense. My son, marrying some rich girl he just met!”

  “We’re not getting married right away,” he said for what felt like the fifteenth time.

  “But you’re moving in with her?”

  Scott raised an eyebrow and his mother gave a half laugh, half scoffing noise. “I don’t care if you are 24 years old, I’m going to ask.”

  “Separate bedrooms,” he said. Not that it would matter. Remembering the gazebo still made him feel warm all over. “There’s no contract. Yet. I can come back home anytime I feel l
ike it.”

  Linda gave him a beady look. “You’re not doing this just because the farm is in a little trouble are you?”

  He wanted to protest that it was in more than “a little trouble” but he was afraid he’d give himself away. “I went there with that in mind,” he admitted. “But...I really like her.”

  Linda’s expression relaxed. “All right then. Keep us informed, all right?”

  “Oh, you’ll get front row seats at the wedding,” he said, swinging his backpack onto one shoulder and leaning down to give her a kiss.

  She laughed and waved goodbye from the porch. Eric was driving him to the bus station. Last time he’d walked.

  “Seriously,” his father said. “Do not marry this woman for the money.”

  Eric Lawson had never been one to pull punches. Scott buckled his seat belt.

  “I’m not.”

  Eric looked at him for a moment and then nodded. “Don’t do it because you don’t think you can do anything else either. The Navy isn’t the be all and end all.”

  Scott swallowed hard and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He caught the bus in time and he was standing outside the mansion again. Before he had time to press the intercom, Catherine came running down the walkway and wrapped her arms around him. He dropped his backpack and picked her up. He swung her around and then kissed her on the cheek.

  “Good to see you too, darlin’,” he said with a smile when her feet were on the ground again.

  “Oh, that looked lovely,” Mavis Cargill called from the front door. “We’ll have to recreate that when the camera crews come in!”

  Scott looked down at Catherine, who rolled her eyes. “Some station picked up their option. Just for the selection process and the wedding junk though. I put my foot down at being followed around once we’re married. They’re probably going to keep pushing for it though.”

  He put his arm across her slim shoulders. “Most of the stuff I’ve got planned for the first few weeks isn’t gonna be innocent enough for network television,” he informed her, making her laugh and blush just slightly.

  Catherine lifted her chin and said, “What makes you think that you’re the only one with plans, Mr. Lawson?”

  He pressed his hand to his heart and pretended to stagger. Allowing his drawl to deepen, he said, “Cruel to tease me like that, Miss Cargill.”

  She laughed and opened the door since he was carrying things. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  “I can take care of that,” the butler, but she shook her head.

  “I’m marrying him,” she said. “I think it’s okay for me to be in his room unescorted.”

  Scott followed her up the stairs and down another long hallway. It was also lined with Oriental rugs. He tried to calculate how many thousands of dollars he was walking on, but since he had no idea how much an Oriental rug cost, he didn’t have much to go on.

  “Here you go,” Catherine said, opening a door on the right hand side.

  Scott whistled low. “Damn.”

  She glanced up at him. “Is this not okay?”

  “Okay?” he asked. “It’s the size of my living room at home.” The bedroom had a massive King bed with crisp blue sheets and a white down comforter. The floor was hardwood, but there was a fluffy white rug under the bed. A chaise lounge sat near the door to his own private balcony and there was even a fireplace and an armoire that held a television. A carafe of water and a glass sat neatly on the nightstand.

  She smiled and pointed to a door in the opposite wall. “You’ve got a private bathroom through there.”

  He dropped his duffle bag and backpack onto the soft rug and went to check it out. A huge soaker tub took up a lot of the space in the large room, but there was also a separate shower and a double sink.

  “Do you like it?” Catherine asked.

  He turned and smiled at her. “Sure. There’s just one thing I think the place needs.”

  “Just let me know,” she said quickly. “My parents can get--” She broke off when he scooped her up, strode across the room and dropped her down onto the bed.

  “I’m thinking a little bit of this,” he drawled before kissing her.

  Chapter Seven:

  So far in the few weeks that he’d lived at the Cargill place he hadn’t had to deal too much with anything related to the reality show. Most of it was focused on following the wedding planning. Although he’d asked, Mavis Cargill had informed him that he didn’t need to have anything to do with the ceremony.

  Catherine didn’t want much to do with it either and he didn’t blame her. As much as her mother might protest, there was no way this was Catherine’s wedding. It was Mavis’s showpiece. It didn’t really matter. It gave them more time to spend with each other

  They’d started having a drink together on his balcony at night. She usually had a glass of wine, and he stuck to beer. There was no way the cameras could follow them there because Scott kept his bedroom door locked and the balcony looked out over the woods. He loved talking to her. The way she had something to say about everything. She was never boring

  And she honestly seemed interested in the farm and in meeting his parents. After he’d lived with her for about a month, they decided to start planning a visit. Without cameras, of course. Eric wouldn’t have put up with that for one second.

  “He sounds like a good guy,” Catherine said, sipping her Moscato with a smile. The cameramen had been following her around all day, and she was tired of tripping over cords and dodging lighting equipment.

  “He’s great,” Scott said sincerely. “Always on my side, but never afraid to kick my ass. I couldn’t ask for a better father. Or mother, for that matter.”

  He saw Catherine’s eyes shadow briefly and he felt like a jerk. She didn’t have the best relationship with either of her parents.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  She shook her head quickly. “Please don’t be. With my parents...” She looked into the setting sun. “I guess they must love me. At least on some level. But it’s not a level that’s much good for any of us. I can’t wait until we have our own place.” She glanced down. “If we...if we stay together.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “I hope we do,” he said simply.

  He never would have thought that he’d feel comfortable about publicizing an engagement to a woman he’d only known for four weeks, but he was actually looking forward to it. Even more so now that he wasn’t marrying her for her money.

  She looked at her watch. “Oh, I guess we’d better go on down.”

  Her parents had scheduled a late dinner with them to go over a few things about the show. Neither one of them were enthusiastic, but they were planning to grin and bear it.

  “Have a seat,” Andrew said. An eternally harried man, he was flipping through a sheaf of papers while he swigged wine with his other hand. “Just a few things we need to go over.”

  Scott pulled Catherine’s chair out for her and then took his seat across the table. “Okay,” he said, trying to sound eager and interested. “Shoot.”

  “The first thing is a list of scenes we’ll have to stage and reshoot.” Andrew handed a list to both of them. “We’ll need to get started on that almost right away, so clear your schedules.”

  Scott wondered what the man thought he did all day, but he didn’t say anything. He was looking over the list when Andrew spoke again.

  “And then, of course, there’s your pseudonym.”

  “My what?” Scott asked, looking at Andrew Cargill in confusion.

  “I think that we should keep the name Scott and just give you a different last name,” Mavis said as she began eating her salad. “That will make it seem more natural when Catherine speaks to you.”

  “But...why are we changing his last name?” Catherine asked.

  “Because we don’t want anyone connecting him with the assault charge,” her father said absently. “Now, third, we--”

  “No,” Cather
ine cut in. “Wait. Assault charge?”

  Scott felt like he’d swallowed a rock. “I--” he began.

  “Discharged from the Navy 6 months ago,” Mavis said. “Assault charges. But,” she went on with a sunny smile. “The two of you have such good chemistry that we decided we wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Not worry about it?” Catherine pushed her plate away and took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady her voice. “What kind of assault?”

  “On a fellow officer, wasn’t it?” Andrew asked. “I don’t remember the degree of injury,” he went on when Scott didn’t speak.

  Catherine met his eyes across the table. He could see betrayal written across her open features. What could he say?

  “Catherine…”

  “Is it true?” she asked, her breath coming in gasps now.

  “I...”

  “Is. It. True?”

  There was nothing to do but tell her the truth and hope that she would let him explain. “Yes.”

  She transferred the gaze to her mother. “And you knew that he was violent?”

  “His career was spotless before that,” Andrew said, in what he clearly thought was a logical tone. “And--”

  “And we’ll make good television,” she cut in before shoving her chair back and standing up. “Thank you, I think I’ll skip dinner.”

  Chapter Eight:

  Scott caught up with her in the hallway, but he knew better than to put his hands on her.

  “Catherine, please wait,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

  She spun around in the hallway just outside her bedroom door. “Now?” she asked scathingly. “Now you want to talk to me? Where was all that in the gazebo? Or any of the rest of the time we’ve spent together?”

  “I...” He couldn’t even honestly say that he’d wanted to tell her, because he’d hoped that somehow she’d never find out. It seemed idiotic to think that now.

  “You what?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, holding herself in. “You hoped I’d never know?”