BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

by Candace Ayers

  His lips pressed against her pussy and he licked her through the lace. One finger slid under the lace and he pressed his forefinger against her clit. Her hips bucked as she silently demanded more. She wanted him so much. The way he worked to protect her made her so hot.

  She hooked her free leg around his waist, trying to get him closer. She so wanted to feel him against her. He lowered his hips against hers and pressed close. His hand slid between their bodies and down into her panties. “So wet,” he muttered.

  He worked one finger into her wet pussy. He slid it out almost all the way and circled her entrance. She squirmed. How could it be that the very start of her was so sensitive? He circled one more time before penetrating her again. He added a second finger and separated the two fingers, stretching her. “I need more,” she whined. “I need your cock.”

  He chuckled, the rumble reverberating deep in his chest. “Say it again.”

  “I need your cock.” He slid his fingers out of her and put them in his mouth, tasting her. He yanked her underwear off her hips and down her leg. He ran his nails up her legs and his head dove between her legs. His tongue fucked her shallowly as his thumb pressed up against her clit.

  Her toes curled as the start of an orgasm moved through her. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hands took hold of his hair, pushing his face even deeper into her. Her heart pounded and her stomach clenched as she came again. His fingers joined his tongue, pleasuring her unrelentingly. It was almost painful, the pressure on her clit. It made her ache deeply.

  And then, suddenly, it stopped. She groaned, annoyed at the lack of contact. “More, please, Shane.”

  He kissed her soaking lips and licked along the seam of her again. His body covered hers and he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. He tossed it away and gripped her breasts. He moved his knee between her legs and she rubbed herself against him desperately. His head dipped to her right breast, and he took her nipple into his mouth. She shook as he sucked on it, his teeth created the perfect opposition to the pleasure of his warm mouth.

  She pulled on his hair and gently moved his head up so she could kiss him. Lexi pushed him over so he was on his back. “Your turn.” Her voice was firm.

  She pulled his shirt from his pants and kissed his tight, muscled lower stomach. She kissed upward, pushing his shirt as she went. Once it was over his head, she moved down to his pants. She fumbled with his belt for a moment before she was able to toss it aside. She worked the zipper down and pulled his pants down his thighs. She pulled his thick, hard cock out of his boxers and ran her fingers over the head. The pre-cum wet her fingers and she brought it to her lips. It was salty and she loved it.

  She ran her tongue around the tip of the head and slid her lips over him. His head fell back as his cock disappeared into her mouth. She sucked hard, and ran her tongue down the large vein that ran down his length.

  “Lexi, fuck. What are you doing to me?” Lexi grinned around his cock, loving how vocal he was. His moans and hisses made her toes curl with pleasure. She loved turning him on like this. “Lex, I’m going to cum. Fuck.”

  His cock twitched in her mouth and his breath hitched as he released into her mouth. She swallowed his ejaculate quickly and slowly released his cock from her mouth. He came up on his forearms and looked at her. “Damn. You’re amazing.”

  She giggled and crawled up his body. He lay back and opened his arms. They faced each other, each laying on their side. Shane took her leg and put it over his hip. Even though he had just cum, he was hardening again. He ran the tip of his cock along her folds, and gently slid inside her. He pulled her hips close to his. The front of their bodies were pressed together and Shane leaned forward to connect their lips.

  Their bodies moved in sync. Shane’s hands roamed all over her skin and her nails dug into his back. With every slow, purposeful thrust, he hit the spot inside of her that made her see stars. His pelvis pushed against her clit. He whispered her name against her lips. Their eyes never left each other’s.

  Lexi could feel tears threatening. She felt so full, so connected to him. “I love you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.

  “I love you too, darlin’,” he said with a conviction that rocked her to her core. They kissed leisurely, and he rocked into her so slowly. It was so different from the frenzied pace of their previous love-making. Even different than her sucking him off, or him licking her.

  It was amazing and she never wanted it to end.

  The rolling wave of an orgasm moved over her. Her inner walls clenched down on his cock and his kiss became more frantic. He let out a breath against her lips and she felt his cock twitch before he released inside of her.

  They stayed like that for a moment before he slid out of her, and got out of bed. He disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared with a cloth. He was always very considerate about cleaning her up. He ran the cloth between her legs and tossed it on the floor.

  He crawled back into bed with her and pulled her close. She breathed in the smell of him, her heart swelling. He kissed the top of her head. She was almost completely asleep when he began to move. “I need to grab something,” he whispered.

  He rolled out of bed and walked to his crumpled pants. He pulled something out of the pocket but she couldn’t see what it was. He climbed back into bed and laid something cool and small on her stomach. She looked down. A gold ring with a gorgeous, understated diamond in the middle sat right above her belly button. She looked over at Shane.

  “Will you marry me?” he asked.

  She picked up the ring and slid it onto her finger. “Yes.”

  He leaned over her and captured her lips in a deep, sensual kiss.

  Chapter 22

  A week later, they were having dinner with Shane’s parents, Amanda and Henry. She sat to Shane’s right and looked down the table to his parents, Amanda and Amanda’s fiancé. It was the first family dinner they had all had together. Shane had told her on the way over that it was the first family dinner they had had in years.

  “I’m thrilled all this nonsense with Matt is over,” Shane’s mother finally said. She smiled over at Lexi. “We’re thrilled to have you here. Shane has told me a lot about you. And from everything I’ve seen in the last few days, we’re lucky to have you as part of the family.” She looked at Lexi’s hand. “The ring looks gorgeous on you. It was my engagement ring, and Shane’s grandmother’s ring.”

  “I didn’t know it was a family ring.”

  She nodded. “Oh yes, it’s been in the family for generations. And now it’s yours.” She reached across and took Lexi’s hand. She squeezed it. Shane’s mother was elegant but felt frail. Lexi knew that under that frailty was intense strength. She smiled. “Enough of my yammering on. Everyone, eat!”

  There was a rustling as everyone began to serve themselves. Lexi took her first bite and almost moaned. It was delicious. Shane’s mother could really cook meat. It was funny, before she was turned she practically was a vegetarian, but since she changed for the first time she constantly craved meat.

  Shane reached under the table and took her hand. She smiled at her. Amanda leaned back in her chair. “You know, Lexi, I had my doubts about you but I think you and Shane are a good match.”

  “Hurrah! Blessings from the sister,” Shane said sarcastically. Lexi poked him in the leg. Lexi smiled at Amanda. She appreciated Amanda’s statement. She wanted to be part of Shane’s family.

  “Thanks,” Lexi said, looking at Amanda. Henry smiled at Lexi, and she wondered if Shane did the same thing to Henry.

  Lexi helped with the dishes and then everyone went to sit in the living room for coffee. Lexi sat next to Shane and he pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and let the enthusiastic conversation lull her into a deep relaxation. She felt safe, truly safe, for the first time in years. And she felt like she belonged.

  THE END

  CLAIMED BY THE ALPHA UNDERBOSS

  STORY DESCRIPTION

  Emily Sanders always d
id seem to find the bad boys, but this one takes the cake. Her boyfriend, Cody, has put her in a dangerous situation that may very well turn deadly. It seems he double crossed the local mob boss, embezzled several million dollars and disappeared. The problem is, Emily was left holding the bag.

  When she comes home to their apartment one night, she finds Cody gone and the apartment trashed. Minutes later, the door is broken down and two thugs grab her. That’s all she remembers until she wakes up to find herself bound in a warehouse and being questioned roughly by one of the thugs.

  Markus Haynes is second in command of the local mafia, a wolf shifter, and an undercover FBI agent. He has spent years in his current undercover position and it has taken him every bit of that time to secure his cover by earning the trust of the organization. He is inches away from getting all the evidence he needs to shut down the local operation. All he wants to do at the warehouse is find the money Cody ran off with. He’s sure he can either get the captive girlfriend to talk, or scare her into keeping her mouth shut. There’s only one problem with that. As soon as he enters the warehouse, his wolf demands he keep her, protect her, and never, ever let her go. He suddenly realizes the woman bound to the chair is not just any woman, she’s his mate.

  But, how will he protect and keep her safe in his dangerous undercover world?

  How will he make her see that he is not the bad guy she thinks he is without blowing his cover?

  And what’s more, how will he explain his wolf to her?

  Chapter One

  I turned over in my bed to find Cody standing at our window like he always did. “Cody,” I said, wincing at my own, groggy voice. I smacked my lips. My throat was dry. I had been snoring again, I could feel it.

  I should have known something was wrong when he didn’t respond to me. He just kept standing there with his face practically pressed against the glass and his long, thin fingers pulling back the curtain. He was like a statue, his thin form hardly moving save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

  I should ask him what he’s thinking.

  I thought about that until it seemed the intention would simply burst from my lips. But I didn’t. I turned over instead. I didn’t need the rejection of not getting an answer first thing in the morning. With one, deep breath, I flipped the comforter back and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

  I took one more look at him standing there. What a picture we were, me by the foot of the bed, my long, dark hair ruffled by a night of sleeping, my lanky body draped in mismatched pajamas, him on a diagonal, seven feet away, his face trained at the window wearing nothing but flannel pants. I remembered the mornings before, before work got complicated, before my book tour wedged a space in between us, before we stopped talking.

  “Coffee?”

  He only shrugged.

  I hated myself for considering that a victory.

  After running a brush around my teeth, I made my way to the kitchen. As soon as I got the grounds in the machine and the scent of Columbia roast filled our stainless steel wonder house, I could feel my spirits already lifting. Coffee was the first thing I ever discovered we had in common.

  I met him at a cafe.

  He stormed into Think Coffee, his briefcase dripping with rain water, his blond hair almost white and practically pasted to his face, but his eyes. Oh his eyes. I wasn’t even looking at him at first. Nope. My attention was trained at the word document glaring in front of me. I had a book deadline looming and no idea how to end the third installment of the cozy mystery series I had been working on. I glanced up only to give my eyes a rest, but then I saw his.

  He stood in the line of anxious twenty-somethings with an addiction to feed, but instead of looking straight ahead at the cashier with the nose ring and the purple hair, he was staring over at me. I almost did a double take, or awkwardly pointed at myself. My brow furrowed. You know, like they do in movies. But before I could even question myself, he was walking towards me, his pink lips curled into a smirk. I used to love that smirk.

  Now it makes me want to rip his head off.

  “God that smells good.” He stalked into our kitchen in his bathrobe with blushed skin of a quick shower.

  I frowned. “I know it does.” Our first words.

  Coffee always brought us together. I sat two mugs down in front of him and filled them, my eyes widening at the steaming caffeine.

  He dragged the Economist towards him and settled in to read it, his hand caressed the mug the way I wished he would touch me.

  I sat next to him, but instead of a magazine, I flipped open my laptop and started on a short story I had been working on: Disillusionment. Our kitchen was all too silent. I could hear everything bleeding in from the outside. On the 20th floor of any building, you shouldn’t ever have to hear ambulances or angry cab drivers or construction workers, but I did. My ears were so desperate, they sought out the noise.

  “I have an early meeting today. Were you gonna write?” He said it without looking up.

  I nodded, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t have been looking at me to see it. I wanted the pause, I wanted him to go searching for once.

  After a short pause, I felt the air move next to my face. I glanced up to find him gazing at me.

  I stared back. For a short second, I could see it again.

  Those eyes…

  That coffee shop.

  “Uh, yeah. My editor wants to see me.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Again.”

  I glowered. “I have a book coming out…”

  “Wonderful.” He dropped the Economist, a sour look on his face. “Another tour.”

  I couldn’t stop the retort from coming out of my mouth. “Did you even miss me last time?” I took another sip of coffee to avoid his gaze. All at once, the room was far too small.

  When he leaned into me, I could smell the sharp scent of his pine aftershave. His morning funk had faded away to reveal the good-natured man I remembered moving in with. His hand traced the flowers on my pajama shorts, then the skin underneath. I pressed towards him, my arms finding their place around his neck.

  He kissed me, his soft lips tickling mine, then devouring me from the outside in and the inside out. A shudder slipped out of my mouth, a groan out of his. His hands pealed my tank top up, just enough to reveal the skin of my belly. His fingertips sunk into all of our favorite spots. Goosebumps rose on my skin, heat on my face.

  His tongue thrusted into my mouth and I was ready to have him right then and there. This was the moment. Four years of sex and we had perfected the dance. Completely predictable, yet still rather satisfying. This was the part where he…

  But he didn’t.

  I could almost hear his heart slow, feel his temperature fall. He slowly pealed me off of him, starting with my hands, which still hung around his neck, then my legs, which had wrapped themselves around his waist…

  “Wha-…”

  But instead of explaining himself, he held the back of my head and pressed his forehead against mine. I squeezed my eyes shut because I was afraid of the look that might be in his. Then, with one final kiss, he stepped down from the stool and disappeared into our room.

  Right then and there. I should have known it was the last time. Looking back, it’s so obvious, with the brooding and the silence. We were like two eggs in boiling water, dying on the inside without a sign of it on the outside. I should have followed him into our room and demanded to know what he was thinking.

  But instead, I stole into our closet, picked out my favorite 90’s sweater and snuck out to Think Coffee. That day, it was so much easier to be in a book than in my own life.

  Chapter Two

  Sometimes, when I’m feeling really shitty, I put my characters through the ringer. I want them to suffer the way I am. I want them to work for their happy ending. It’s the kind of thing that always drew kudos for me. Publishers would rave about me keeping them on the edge of their seats like my style was some sort of calculated way to sell mo
re novels and not just the sad sadist in me coming out to play.

  After an entire day of downing every type of caffeinated drink I could stomach and clearing a whopping ten thousand words of my new book, I was feeling a little like I had purged: calm, satiated and a little lethargic. The angry, October wind was full force when I stepped outside so it took me almost five minutes longer to get back to the apartment. But I didn’t mind. In fact, I kind of liked the delay. It made it more likely that Cody would be home by the time I got there.

  My heart pounded in my chest as I turned the key in the lock, but when I pushed the door open, no pool of light greeted me. There was no 80’s rock bleeding out into the main room, no sound of him feverishly answering emails. It was all silent.

  I shut the door behind me, letting out a huff of breath before dropping my bag on the kitchen counter and flipping on the overhead lights. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. “What the fuck?” I muttered to myself as I walked through to the main room of my house, which, frankly looked like it had been turned completely upside down.

  “I can’t believe this.” There it was, my L-shaped couch. The one I had fought tooth and nail with Cody over in the middle of pottery barn. It was lying over on its side, a cut scratched all the way through it.

  I crossed the room, running my hands along the gash. The cushion bled out of it, leaving little pieces of cotton all over the rug. All at once, my stomach dropped. I stepped back, glancing around me at the disheveled room. Our coffee table was smashed, my weekend bag dragged across the floor, its contents bottomed out. I furrowed my brow. Had we been robbed?

  My heart throbbed. I should have been doing something, calling the police, calling Cody, running away, but I couldn’t. I just stood there, staring at the rip in that couch, knowing that something sinister had happened.