“Oh, the taste of you.”
Lowering my head, I take her mouth. I want to return her tender touch, but I’m too desperate to consume her. I lift her onto the island cabinet. The girl knows not what she does. She grips my hair, her legs around my waist — kissing me back with a fervor that almost matches mine.
My beast delights in the wild thumping of her pulse, the scent of pheromones from her skin, and most of all the delicious arousal wafting from between her legs.
Taste her pussy.
Oh, fuck.
“Stop,” I murmur and mean it. Yet a growl escapes my throat as I inhale her essence. Gripping her damp hair, I tilt her head back to better ravish her mouth. Cupping a gorgeous breast, I tease a hard nipple harder through the thin fabric of the bra.
“Mmmm.” She whimpers, arching into my palm, rocking her aromatic pussy against my cock.
Fuck her. A flush of Lycan cells flood my balls. Now.
“Arrggh.” I rip my hands and mouth away, jerking out of her grip. Doubling over to suck in calming oxygen, I force the beast out of my balls. “For fuck’s sake.”
How did I let this happen again?
My witch leans her head back, her beautiful chest heaving.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps.
I glance at her closed eyes, flushed face and torso, happy to see she’s as affected as I. “It’s not entirely your fault.”
“You’re right.” She presses her lips together. “You’re to blame for being extremely hard to resist.”
Despite the sexual frustration, I laugh. The wolf swaggers with pride.
I’m irresistible.
After a moment, I stand erect. “Our first time is going to be explosive.”
Her eyes still closed, she smirks. “I’ve heard that before.”
Jealous, my wolf growls. That gets her attention. She sits up, eyes dart back and forth between mine.
“I’m not a virgin, Enrique. If that’s what you require —”
“Neither am I.”
She moves to get down. Placing my hands on either side of her, but not touching her, I block her from running.
“Here’s what I do require.” With a grin, I scan the racks of clothes. “That our first time not be a quickie in a closet while your friends wait downstairs.”
Deep breath in, her eyes round, a hand goes across her open mouth. “The girls.”
“Have you forgotten about them?”
She bites her bottom lip, a playful smile in her eyes. She nods.
I chuckle. “Oh, Niña. I’ll happily make you forget everything. For hours and hours.” I rub her nose with mine — the only touch I’ll allow myself. “However, I do have one other requirement. When I take you, I will take all of you. Your lovely body, absolutely. But I will have your heart and soul as well.”
The playful smile leaves her face.
“I’ll settle for nothing less.” It’s my wolf speaking. No, not speaking. Demanding. Pleading.
“You want to mark me.”
“Want?” I raise my eyebrows. “That’s the understatement of a lifetime.”
I need to mark you to be whole.
There’s no fear in her expression, no disagreement at all. In fact, there’s wonder in her eyes. Her hand reaches for my face again.
“Oh, no.” I intercept it and the other, holding them both behind her. “Your touch is too incendiary.”
A quick peck on the tip of her nose, I release her hands. “Come.” I lift her down and place her in front of the machine. “Steam your shirt, rather than me, hmmm?”
With a smirk, she tilts her head cloyingly. I sigh, knowing I’ll lose horribly if she ever uses her femininity against me. At least the little witch is secure in that source of her power.
“I’ll shower.” I pull off my ruined t-shirt, shredded by the morning fight, and toss it in the waste bin on my way out of the closet.
chapter 8
Kissing Enrique is immensely different. Not the mechanics. It’s lips on lips, tongue on tongue.
I loved Dillon and loved kissing him. He was so sweet and gentle. Nash and Ben — their kisses set my body on fire. Of course, that’s when I trusted them.
Pleasurable as all three men were at their time, they were all far beneath this. Far beneath. There’s a distinct savoriness to Enrique that makes him unbelievably irresistible. He says I taste good. Right back at him. That’s not all, though. Enrique touches something else along with my libido, something powerful and intense at my core that no one else has ever reached.
The professional grade steamer makes quick work of the wrinkles in the old cotton. I switch off the heat and put on my shirt. The warmth feels wonderful.
In the bath, I stop in my tracks. Enrique. Naked. Water streams across bronzed skin stretched over sinewy muscles. His back to me, the scar glistens a bit lighter. It’s mine, that scar. The sudden possessiveness takes me by surprise.
I want him. But do I want him for the rest of my life? The resounding yes in my heart amazes me. I barely know him, yet I feel like I know him better than anyone, even myself.
Deltoids and rhomboids ripple as he washes his hair. My eyes wander lower to take in the sexy dimples at the sides of his buttocks and stare at powerful hamstrings.
When he turns to rinse, he isn’t surprised to see me. I suppose his wolf sensed my presence. Tilting his head, he smirks. “Enjoying the show?”
The heat of being caught staring flushes across my face. But his amused, gentle gaze puts me at ease. How does he do that?
It dawns on me that he used my words from earlier, so I repeat what he had said.
“Immensely,” I murmur.
Geez. Look at him. Suds and water flow through ridges and valleys of pecs and abs, and mouthwatering man cleavage — those thought stealing deep creases from hips to heaven. He’s big and grows bigger under my stare.
I am so attracted to him, physically and emotionally. My entire being is tethering to him. Perhaps it always was and I’m just now becoming aware of it.
“Are you sure? My cock big enough for you?” He grips his jutting penis and gives me a gigantic smile — the biggest I’ve seen on his face. The smile just may be sexier than what he’s holding.
I laugh. From anyone else, that line would’ve come across as junior high crude. From Enrique, it’s blithe and playful.
Twenty-four hours or so ago, I learned that my sister hates me and that Nash isn’t the rock I thought he was. I should be shattered with despair. Instead, I’m laughing with a man who rumor says is a monster. And he’s nothing of the kind.
The sexy smile drops and he lets go of himself. “What are you thinking so hard about, Shavone?”
I take a deep breath. “That I need to thank you,” I murmur.
“For what, mi dulce?”
“For, um” — tears of gratitude well up — “for calling my friends.”
For saving my life.
“No need to thank me. I hope they ease your heartache.”
You ease my heartache.
He tilts his head. “Whatever you need or want. I’ll move Heaven, Hell and Earth for you.”
It isn’t an exaggeration. The words are a truth that I can’t deny.
After a beat, he smiles and returns to soaping his body. “Now, stop looking at me like that and go, before I drag you in here with me — your friends be damned.”
Downstairs, I wander a short hall. Enrique’s house is big, but not as huge or furnished as grandly as the LaFontaine mansion. Here, the furnishings lean toward contemporary with a healthy dose of southwest casual. I quickly find the dining room.
“Hey.” I smile at my far too quiet besties, and head straight for the coffeepot on the sideboard.
“Well, doesn’t that speak volumes.” Gabs rolls her eyes.
“What?” I pour a cup of java with one hand and feel my nose for snot with the other. “Something on my face?”
“Fifteen minutes ago you were on the verge of tears.” Lauralynn sets down her mug
. “Now you’re all I-got-lucky smiles.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. Leave it to my friends to cut right to the chase.
“No such luck this morning.” I reach for a dish of Greek yogurt.
“This is so not funny.” Gabs purses her lips. “Cruz is dangerous, S.”
“I wouldn’t be here if he were, G.” I sprinkle a full cup of granola over the yogurt.
“You’re discounting history, then?” Cherie asks.
“History or rumors?” I raise an eyebrow at all three girls. “No matter what you call it, they’re all baldfaced lies as far as I can tell.” I take a seat at the table.
“Oh, sure,” Lauralynn chimes in. “That’s why the foyer looks like a war zone.”
“That was Nash. Not Enrique. Enrique doesn’t explode like that.” I spoon food into my mouth.
“Bullshit. First of all, all alphas explode like that. And second of all, Cruz took down an entire Native pack by himself.” Gabs leans in. “He was seventeen.”
I swallow the bite of yogurt, trying to reconcile the man upstairs with his larger than life legend as a killer teen-wolf. “That was a long time ago.”
“So what! If anything, he’s stronger now as a full grown alpha. He killed his own kind, Shav. ”
“He must have had a good reason,” I mumble.
I killed a man, too. How can I judge Enrique?
Crossing her arms, Gabs leans back and nods. “Alphas are good at that.”
“Good at what?”
“Charming the panties off naïve women.”
I laugh aloud. “First of all, my panties have remained on since I’ve been here.” Except for my shower. “And second of all, I’m not naïve.”
Cherie clunks her coffee mug onto the table. “He wants to make you his mate.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Yet here you sit, cool as a cucumber.” Ells tilts her head in that condescending way she has.
I focus on my yogurt.
“Oh. My. God.” Gabs drops her arms and leans forward, again. “Do you want to be his mate?”
“Possibly.” I admit it as much to myself as I do to them.
Shit. I’ve managed to render them speechless.
Cherie comes out of it first. She narrows her eyes. The girl doesn’t trust males — any of them. “You’ve never fallen for a guy this quick.”
“It’s an unusual situation.” I take a sip of my coffee and, then, continue. “Remember that nightmare I used to have as a kid?”
Ells forehead crunches in thought. “The one where you’re running through a rainstorm from evil hunters and fall into a creek?”
I nod. “I started having it, again, with a lot more detail this time. So much detail that I’ve come to the conclusion that it was a real event. It actually happened.”
Lauralynn sits back in the dining chair and studies me.
Cherie’s eyes narrow in shock. “Hunters tried to kill you when you were a kid?”
“Yup. They were shouting ‘die, witch, die’ and joyfully watched me go under the water.”
“Hunters suck.” Lauralynn purses her lips.
“Thats awful, S.” Cherie takes my hand.
“And that wolf in the dream who pulled you out of the water was Cruz,” Lauralynn rightly concludes.
I nod. “One and the same.”
Gabs scoffs. “No way. He would have been far too young to patrol.”
“I’m telling you” — I reign in my growing annoyance with her — “it was Enrique. He was there and he saved my life.”
“And you’re going to mate with him as a reward?” Cherie frowns.
“No. Geez.” I scowl. “Would you give me some damn credit here? I’m not an idiot.”
Enrique’s manservant enters with two platters. He’s a wolf, I sense, and by the expression on his face, I gather that he’s overheard our discussion. He places the dish laden with fruit near me.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Ms. Gentil.” He nods at me with a small smile.
Do I know him? His voice sounds familiar.
“Shavone, please. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“I am Agustin Suave.” He bows slightly at me and, with a tight-eyed glare at Gabs, sets the meat closer to the wolf-girl.
“Are you related to Tomas and Francisco?” I ask him.
“I’m their uncle as well as Enrique’s,” he says kindly. “Enrique’s late mother, Josephina, is my sister and Rafael Suave, my brother.”
“Oh.”
“Do you require anything else?” He smiles at me.
I return his gentle smile. “I can’t think of a thing. Thank you.”
He nods and leaves us. As soon as he’s gone, Ells drops her spoon into the empty cereal bowl in front of her. She looks at the other girls before smirking at me. “Shavone did get the highest SAT scores in our class. ”
I grin at her.
“We love you, S.” Cherie squeezes my hand. “We just have a list of concerns.”
“I know.” I get up for more coffee. “Enrique needn’t be one of them.”
“He is hot.” Lauralynn smirks. “And you know I’m never one to get in the way of a girl’s fun. Just make sure he can get you there before you let him bite.”
“Ells!” Gabs is horrified.
“Hey. Take it from me, it’s important in a relationship.” She laughs at Gabs.
“It certainly is.” Enrique walks in smirking. “Have no fear, Miss Taylor. Shavone’s pleasure will be my second priority.”
Ells has the decency to blush. “And your first priority would be?”
“Finding the bastards who abducted her.”
“Finally someone talks some sense this morning.” Cherie nods.
“How did you know my name?” Ells asks him.
“And mine?” Cherie asks.
“I made an effort to know all about Shavone’s friends.”
He did? Was that part of the background check when I applied at the Dollhouse? I pull grapes off a stem and mull over the invasion into my privacy.
“That’s either endearing or creepy,” Lauralynn says.
“I vote creepy,” Gabs says.
“Can we get back to finding the bad guys?” Cherie says. “We can start with a locator spell.”
I glance at Enrique, marveling that I’m comfortable discussing witchcraft in front of him. “Waste of time. We don’t have a name or even an image to go on,” I say.
“No harm in trying.” Lauralynn pushes her bowl away and leans her elbows onto the table.
“True.” I shrug. “But don’t expect much. Remember, we couldn’t find Val.”
“Yes, but we didn’t have the powerful circle conveniently located just across the street.”
“What powerful circle?” Gabs creases her brow.
“The one in the center of that copse of trees behind the recently purchased LaFontaine place.” Ells grins.
I play with the bunch of grapes. “I’d — ah — would rather not.”
“S,” Cherie starts.
“We can use the circle at my old place. I don’t think the new owners have moved in yet.” I pop another grape into my mouth.
Coffee in hand, Enrique helps himself to a steak from the meat platter and sits next to me. “Use the LaFontaine circle, Shavone. It was brought here for you.”
“What?” I cough on the half chewed grape.
He pats my back. “The detective brought up the majority of the stones from your childhood coven in Colorado Springs. To create a larger circle, a few stones have been added, sent from an ancient Anasazi site and” — he waves his hand as he sits — “other places around the world with great power.”
“Such as?” Lauralynn presses.
“Rumor is that three stones come from Brú na Bóinne.” He cuts a huge chunk off the steak.
Jaws drop on the three witches at the table. Brú na Bóinne is the motherland, the birth place of witchcraft.
“What’s so special a
bout Brú na Bóinne?” Gabs shrugs her shoulders.
Enrique rests his knife and fork. “That is disturbing, Miss Santana. Every sovereign wolf should know of Brú na Bóinne, even an apprentice. I’ll have to speak to your grandmother about your education.”
Gabs narrows her eyes at him. “I know of the area, Mr. Cruz. It’s a collection of passage tombs.”
“That’s the prevailing perception,” Lauralynn says.
“Ells,” I warn her. She’s about to divulge a secret witches have successfully kept to themselves for over 5,000 years.
“What? Tell me,” Gabs insists.
“The mounds are a concentration of elemental power, G.”
“Ells!” I stand tipping over my coffee.
“God, S, calm down. They’re sovereign wolves.”
So?
“Relax, little witch.” Enrique mops the table with a napkin. “All of this is common knowledge among sovereign wolves.”
“It is?” I gawk at him, dumbfounded. Then, at Lauralynn. “You knew that?”
“Well, yeah.” She grimaces like I’m an idiot. Cherie nods, too.
“Damn French wolves,” Enrique mumbles under his breath. “You’re in need of an education as much as is Miss Santana.” He turns to Gabs. “What is said here is to remain among sovereign wolves. Is that understood?”
She nods.
“In fact everything you know about Shavone, especially, is not to be shared with outsiders. And for clarification, your fiancé is not from a sovereign family and therefore is an outsider.” He glares at Gabs.
Cherie raises an eyebrow, blinks her gaze to me. I clearly understand her silent message. Some anonymous coward threatened Gabs over her pending marriage to a Norse wolf. To Cherie, Enrique just became a suspect.
No. No way did he send the blood threat. I covertly shake my head at her. Apparently not covertly enough, because Enrique’s eyes narrow on me immediately.
“Speaking of Baldwin, you haven’t RSVP’d for Gabby’s wedding yet, Mr. Cruz,” Cherie blurts out. She is an expert at diverting attention, better than me. “Will you be joining us at the Avalon? As maid of honor, I’m keeping the head count.”
Enrique glances from me to her, to me, and back to C, again. “Call me Enrique, please.” He purses his lips. “I’m not sure I can make it.”
“Oh? S is a bridesmaid.” Ells taunts him. “I’ve seen the dresses. Trust me you don’t want her wandering around Telluride alone looking that gorgeous.” She smirks.
Soft Fate (Wolven Moon Book 2) Page 4