Stolen Passions: Forbidden Passions, Book 1

by Crystal Jordan

  Since she obviously didn’t have any money with her, he was going to have to foot the bill for her new clothes. Whether he liked it or not, as soon as she was out of this mess, she was paying him back. She didn’t voice the thought out loud. She had a feeling he’d protest.

  “And I’m going to hit the pool. I want to work on my tan.” Tori lifted an already golden arm.

  “Thanks again, Tori.” Zander gave her a charming smile, cupped his big hand around Lyra’s shoulder, and shut the front door behind them. It beeped as a security system engaged. Tori took off toward the rest of the resort while Lyra and Zander piled into the Jeep. The wind from the open top ruffled through her hair as they pulled away from the house and onto a two-lane road. She tilted her head back to let the bright sunshine bathe her face.

  “Did you call the hospital?” Zander stroked his fingers down her arm.

  “Yes. Before you ask, I didn’t tell them where I was.” She shoved her dark hair back, despising how helpless she was in all of this. She wasn’t raised to be weak and hide from problems. It didn’t sit well with her. But if her other option was ending up beaten and back in the desert—or dead—she was just going to have to deal with it. A sigh eased past her lips. “I’m going to lose my job over this.”

  He grunted, but made no other acknowledgment of her words.

  “Gee, your concern is touching.” Asshole. She didn’t add that last word, but she was pretty sure he heard it by the way he chuckled.

  Turning his head, he pierced her with an inscrutable glance. “We need a medic here.”

  She couldn’t help the way her heart leapt, raced and then tripped at the very idea of staying with him. He wanted her to stay here. Stomping down on her momentary joy, she gave a derisive snort. “You’re insane. If most of my family stopped speaking to me for leaving the clan to work in the borderlands, do you know what they would do to me if I worked for leopards?”

  “Refuge is neutral territory.”

  “So are all werekind hospitals. That’s not going to impress my uncle or my father. Or my cousins, my mother, my Great Aunt Hattie Jane.”

  “You have an aunt named Hattie Jane?” His white teeth flashed in a grin as he said it.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m from the south, of course I have an Aunt Hattie Jane.”

  “Do they call you by your middle name too?”

  A growl slid from her throat. “Not if they want to live.”

  “What’s your middle name?”

  “Jane,” she snarled. “It’s a family name.”

  “That’s pretty.” He put a fake country twang in his voice. “Lyra Jane.”

  She fought a smile and lost, so she turned to look out the window and coughed into her fist to smother a laugh. “Only my mother calls me that. Just Lyra, thanks.”

  “Whatever you say, sugar.”

  Sugar. She winced. Not because she didn’t like it, but because she did. She’d never been the pet-name type. Her world was sterile, clinical. Her patients relied on her to be calm, focused and impartial in her judgment of their injuries and ailments. None of that had ever led her to believe she was capable of the kind of caution-to-the-wind, wall-banging, screaming animalist orgasms Zander had dragged out of her all through the night.

  And she wanted to do it again. The chemistry between them was beyond mind-blowing.

  They’d gotten maybe five miles down the road when she caught Zander slanting her a glance. His eyes were a brilliant shade of green that danced when he gave her a wicked grin. “You’re not wearing anything under that skirt, are you?”

  “What do you think?” The muscles in her thighs tensed in anticipation. Wetness flooded her sex, and she wrapped her fingers tight around her seatbelt to keep from reaching for him. How had he done this to her? She’d gone years without sex before and never had a problem. It had only been a few hours since Zander had fucked her and she was dying for his touch.

  His deep voice rumbled, almost a purr. “I think if I slid my hand up your leg I wouldn’t just find you going commando. I’d find your pussy lips wet and hot, ready for me to finger-fuck.”

  Christ, he said dirty things. She swallowed hard, her body flashing hot with tingles. “Wh-why don’t you find out, then?”

  “I thought you’d never ask, sugar.” He dropped one hand from the steering wheel and reached over to stroke her knee. He moved his hand slowly, making her squirm in mounting excitement. She wanted his fingers on her, in her, thrusting deep. The wind captured her soft whimper, blowing it away. She spread her thighs as wide as her skirt would allow. He pushed it up as he went. “Lift your ass.”

  She did, and he shoved her skirt up to her waist. The air caressed her damp flesh, and she shuddered. His fingertips brushed over her clit and skimmed her swollen lips before he dipped inside her soaking channel. His gaze flicked from the road to her and back again as he worked her flesh and controlled the vehicle with cool efficiency. The deep flush that raced under his skin gave him away—he wasn’t as unaffected as he might appear.

  “Zander, please.” She raised her hips to meet him, and his movements were quick and forceful, catapulting her to the edge of orgasm. She arched her neck against the headrest, rolling her face toward him. “I don’t want to come without you. I want you inside me.”

  He hissed, his fangs elongating as he looked over at her. Jerking the wheel, he pulled over to the side of the road, unclipped his seatbelt and reached between his legs to slide his seat back. That was all the encouragement she needed. She unsnapped her seatbelt, climbed over the center console and straddled his lap. He shoved her shirt up, yanking it over her head. And then his hands were on her bare breasts, her nipples in his mouth as he sucked her hard. Her back bowed, pressing her closer. His tongue flicked over her tight, flushed skin until she sobbed for breath. It wasn’t enough. She craved the way his cock filled her. She needed it. Him.

  Tugging up his shirt, she ran her hands over the muscled planes of his stomach and chest. Her nails flicked over the flat discs of his nipples. They hardened under her touch. His mouth left her breasts so he could jerk his shirt off and toss it aside. “Touch me, Lyra. I love your hands on me.”

  Her heart hammered so loud she could hear it in her ears. She unbuttoned his jeans and shoved the zipper down. Reaching in, she pulled his cock free of his boxers and stroked it. “Is this what you had in mind?”

  “Oh, yeah.” After a few moments, he moved her hand away, gripped her hips, and pulled her forward. “Ride me, sugar.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” She braced her hands on his broad shoulders for leverage, rubbing the head of his dick against her lips. A whimper broke from her throat at the heat that thrummed through her.

  He gave her a lopsided grin, fire flickering in his green eyes. “This is my favorite position, you know?”

  “You have a favorite?” She chuckled, and it brushed her nipples against the springy hair on his chest. “I would have thought any position that got you laid would do the trick.”

  “Oh, it does. But there’s something about watching a woman pump herself on my cock, the feel of her pussy all slick and tight, knowing she wants me so much she’ll drive herself crazy going faster and faster to try to get more. The look on a woman’s face when she fills herself with me—goddamn, there’s nothing hotter than that.”

  She bit her lip and sank down on him, knowing she was giving him exactly the look he’d just mentioned. The way the corner of his mouth kicked up confirmed it. His big hands bracketed her hips, his thumbs digging into her flesh just below her pelvic bones as he guided her descent. Molten heat slid over her skin, made her back arch. His cock stretched her wide, and she rolled her hips for sweet friction. Her eyes dropped to half-mast as her concentration focused on his flesh in hers as she moved.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Lyra.” Something tender flashed in his gaze as he lifted one hand to cup her cheek.

  “Zander.” She leaned forward, laid her hands along his jaw, and p
ressed her lips to his. He groaned, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to the same rhythm that his dick moved inside her. She curled her finger into claws on his shoulders, digging into his flesh as their pelvises ground together. Sweat rolled down their bodies, sealing them together with each downward movement. The muscles in her thighs flexed as she lifted and lowered herself on his thick cock. Faster and faster, harder and harder until she threw back her head and screamed, the sound half-woman and half-wolf. Orgasm crashed through her, and her pussy milked his dick, fisting around him.

  Zander froze beneath her for a long, protracted moment before his hips hammered into hers. His hands held her down, seating her fully on his cock. Then he came, his jaw clenched tight, and his eyes flickering with green fire. She slumped against him, her fingers relaxing their grip on his shoulders.

  Meeting his eyes, she grinned and tried to slow her breathing down, stop her muscles from shaking. “You know, I’ve never made it in a car—not even when I was a teenager.”

  An answering smile formed on his lips. “Everyone should try it at least once.”

  Chapter Four

  Lyra watched Zander’s gaze sharpen suddenly, focusing on something beyond her shoulder. Before she could glance back to see what it was, his arms snapped around her to roll her away from his door and smash her between him and the center console. It was such a protective gesture that she had to swallow and clear her throat so she didn’t get choked up. When was the last time someone had put themselves between her and danger? Not since she’d left home to study medicine. She pulled in a deep breath and realized what he’d seen. A bird.

  The loud flap of wings told her it was a bird of prey before she’d even managed to wriggle enough to see. Zander tightened his arms around her when she shoved her shoulder against him. “You’re crushing me.”

  He didn’t move, just kept his steely gaze pinned to the bald eagle that spun in a precise circle to land beside the Jeep. A rustle of feathers and the enormous bird shifted into a naked woman. She had short, spiky platinum hair and the most amazing breasts Lyra had ever seen. She heaved a disgruntled sigh at the mere teaspoonfuls of cleavage she had received. If she caught Zander staring, she’d kick his spotted leopard ass.

  The faded scars on the eagle-shifter’s body made Lyra arch her brows. It took an incredible amount of damage to scar a were. Battle scars. She knew about the warrior existence of those enlisted in the Messenger Corps—the werebirds who delivered messages from one group of werekind leaders to another—but she’d only met one or two of them in her life. None of them had ended up in her clinic.

  “If you wouldn’t mind stepping out of your vehicle for a moment. I’m here to deliver a message, and then I’ll let you get back to your…business.” Not a single expression crossed the wereeagle’s face, but Lyra got the distinct impression the other woman was amused.

  A warning growl vibrated through Zander’s chest. “Who are you?”

  “Alexandra Petros, Commander of the Messenger Corps. Call me Ajax.”

  Lyra swallowed. How important could the message be that they’d rated the Corps Commander to deliver it? Dread twisted through her, made the tips of her fingers tingle.

  Zander tucked his cock back into his boxers, but didn’t bother to zip his pants. He popped the door to the car, and Lyra stepped out after him. He shoved her back, so she was safely behind him and trapped by the open door. She sighed and wriggled to the side a bit so she could see, but wasn’t dumb enough to try and go around him. He wouldn’t let her and she knew it—no matter how capable a wolf was in defending itself from harm. Usually. Her track record in that area hadn’t been so wonderful lately. Then again, if it had, she might never have met Zander. She tried to ignore the pang that hit her chest at that thought.

  “What’s the message?” he barked out.

  The eagle woman raised a brow at his rudeness. “The wolves want the daughter you kidnapped back. Felix Marcus has approached the Alpha for assistance in this. If she’s not returned, it’s war.”

  He shook his head, his brown hair flying. “I had no part in her kidnapping.”

  “It’s true.” Lyra put her hand on his arm and leaned to the side to speak to the messenger. “The Leonidases saved me and took me in.”

  Cool indifference flashed over the eagle’s face. “I’m sure you believe that.”

  “They can’t take her from me,” he hissed. “She doesn’t have to go back if she doesn’t want to.”

  She held up her hand. “Birds are neutrals. We don’t involve ourselves in your disputes. This isn’t my problem.”

  Lyra’s voice held more entreaty than she would have liked, but the idea of leaving Zander sent panic exploding through her. And that scared her more than anything else. “But couldn’t you—”

  “I deliver messages. That’s all. Personal feelings don’t enter into the equation.” Ajax’s gaze was hard and unrelenting.

  Zander sliced his hand downward, ending the conversation. “Then tell the wolves what we’ve said here and that the leopard leader will be in touch.”

  “Done.” With a great leap, she shifted mid-air and swooped away.

  They stood together until she was no more than a fading speck on the horizon. Lyra turned her face into Zander’s shoulder, pulling in a deep breath to savor his scent. “I have to go.”

  “No.” That warning growl she’d come to expect when he was pushed to dangerous limits sounded, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “War, Zander. My uncle and my father rarely agree on anything.” Except that she shouldn’t have gone to New Orleans. Her lips formed a bitter twist at how often their agreements hurt her. She pulled Zander around so he faced her, so he could see how serious she was. “My father doesn’t issue idle threats.” No, he didn’t. And he’d probably use this as the excuse he’d been looking for to drag her back to Tennessee from New Orleans. Living as a shifter in a border city was dangerous because that was where violence between the species was most likely to break out. Which was exactly why she was needed there.

  It wasn’t that she craved the adrenaline of the emergency room, but no one needed her back home—there were other doctors for those clinics. And there was no way in hell she was going home with her tail tucked between her legs because her father was scared of what might happen to her. They’d had this battle before, and she’d go toe to toe with him again if she had to. Lyra sighed and focused on Zander. “If my father’s gone to the Alpha—”

  “No, sugar. You are not leaving.” His tone was implacable, his face set in stone.

  She cupped his jaw in her hands, trying to make him understand. “Imagine what open war would do to our people. It wouldn’t just cost lives, but the secrecy that keeps all weres safe from humans. I have to go back. A phone call—even from your brother—isn’t going to cut it.”

  “You don’t know who did this to you. How do you know it wasn’t someone your father and uncle trusts? How do you know this didn’t have something to do with wolf clan politics? How do you know you wouldn’t be walking right back into a trap?”

  Shaking her head, she dropped her hands. “I don’t. I don’t have an answer to any of those questions. But I do know that my life isn’t worth war.”

  “It is to me.”

  “Zander, this is ridiculous.” Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back. She was the Alpha wolf’s niece. He was the leopard leader’s brother. Just because he made her feel in a way no other man ever had was irrelevant. The messenger’s arrival made it clear just how solid the lines were in their world, no matter how they’d begun to blur for Lyra and Zander. “I’m going back. Please take me to the resort so I can book a flight to Tennessee.”

  “No! Damn it.” This time she didn’t even get the warning growl as he shoved his fingers into her hair, jerking her up against his chest and crushing her mouth under his.

  His tongue thrust between her lips, and heat exploded through her. Backing her up against his seat, he lifted her so that she was half in the
Jeep and half out. Her ribs slammed against the steering wheel, but she ignored the pain and clung to his shoulders as he shoved their clothes out of the way and slammed his cock deep inside her pussy. Crying out at the tight fit, she arched her hips and reveled in the excitement that twisted within her.

  Fire and ice raced over her skin, tears blurring her vision as her movements became desperate, needing to be as close to him as possible. One last time. Her heart squeezed as pain and pleasure warred for dominance within her. He set a harsh, punishing rhythm, his fangs bared as the feral side of him, the leopard, came forward. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her head back. He pressed his lips to her exposed throat, his tongue flicking out to lick her. He rolled his hips against hers, changing the angle, but not the rough speed, of his thrusts. “Zander.”

  “Mine.” He sank his fangs deep into her flesh. She screamed and came so hard starbursts of light exploded behind her lids. He licked and sucked at the bite mark until she sobbed for breath, her pussy flexing again and again around his cock. “You’re mine, Lyra. All mine, only mine. Forever. Mine.”

  “Y-yours.” Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she buried her face in his neck. His hard cock continued to move within her, demanding her response. Heat built again, called to the most primitive part of herself, and she lifted her hips to meet his.

  He angled his chin up, baring his throat for her. Her lips closed over his collarbone, sucking lightly at the salty flesh. His taste and scent filled her senses, drugging her with the unquenchable need he ripped from her. Zander. What would she do without him now? His bite burned on her skin, branding her as his. Undeniably his. Yes. She wanted that unbreakable bond.

  “Bite me, Lyra. Mark me.”

  She obeyed without question, without thinking. God, yes. That was exactly what she craved. The wolf inside her howled as her fangs pierced his flesh. He jerked beneath her touch, coming in long, hot spurts within her. The coppery tang of his blood flooded her tongue as she licked the healing wound. It was carnal, possessive. He was hers, all hers. Forever, just as he’d said. Her Zander.