Fated Mates: The Alpha Shifter Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle) (Insatiable Reads)

by Hunter, Adriana

  She pushed her chest out, met his body with her bosom, and her arms were around him, roaming over his firmness. “Liam,” she breathed into his mouth before recapturing his lower lip unconsciously, sucking on it. “Liam, wait. I’m-”

  He pulled back, looked at her. “I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.”

  “Hold on,” she stammered. Insecurity flooded into her. What she had secretly craved before, the attention she had wanted, now that it was upon her, doubts were doing their best to thwart it.

  “I know,” he said, his voice low. And then his mouth was on hers again, taunting her with his tongue, daring her to open herself to him, to let him in just that half inch.

  And she did. Their tongues met, danced, and shivers erupted along her body. She could feel his urgency in each movement of his hand, now exploring her underarms, pulling on threads of wanting and desire from her core.

  She craved him at that moment. She did. She wanted to resist, wanted to reconcile what they had been talking about, but she was caught in a clutch of sudden and intense passion, and she was unable to shield herself from his sweltering advance, let alone her own body shouting at her not to stop.

  Their bodies entwined together, dry leaves the color of October crunching beneath them as shifted, writhed, and hooked their bodies together. She could feel his heat through his clothing, feel the energy he held in his taut body, the ultimate tease of what he could do for her.

  Terry shivered as he pressed her back against the ground, as with one hand he held both of hers above her head, and with his other he explored the curves of the insides of her thighs, up and over them, her hips and her lower back.

  That hand slipped under her dress, and was running along her abdomen, up to her breasts, teasing her nipples to tender, sensitive points, leaving her breathless and dizzy and wanting for more. His urgency, her body that he laid claim to, was potent and heady, like a tornado it eradicated any remaining doubts she had, any lingering worries. Her ramparts crumbling, she knew she was his. She knew that, somehow, through the silkily deft touch of his lips, his hands that left trails of fire in their wake, that she was utterly, completely his.

  And that knowledge filled her with a sticky anticipation, a yearning that, now unleashed, could never be quashed.

  He eased the shoulder of her dress down, freed one of her breasts, and she gasped as he plucked from her bare bud sweet sensations from her very core, the part of her that, moment by moment, was growing more sensitive, more anxious.

  And then his hand was roaming downward, back to her thighs, and at first she had tried to keep her legs closed, but his impassioned touch melted that fleeting notion of modesty.

  How could she refuse him any longer when his every touch, every swirl of his tongue against hers, the way in which he pushed his body into hers, urged her ever upward, insisted that she explore the new world which he had to offer. Though it had all been so sudden, he was like a feral beast had been let loose from his cage, and he was determined to sate his pent-up hunger.

  And when his fingers brushed over her short curls, found the hardened nub below, it sent rockets of longing roaring through her, tendrils of wanting thrilling through her. Her body stretched out, like a cat wanting more, a request for him to put to rest her longings, to prod and stimulate her desire.

  All she could hear in her mind was a voice telling her that he had wanted her all along, and that he wanted her now. Every doubt she’d had was distant now, on the horizon and zooming away. The voice told her to recognize that she wanted him too, and so to touch him, to feel him, to take from him what he was taking from her, and to give to him what he was giving to her.

  She arched her back, pushed her hips upward, and rubbed them against his groin where she felt his manly iron readiness. He let her own hands explore his hard body, converge on his crotch where she cupped him, allowing her feminine pride to bloom as she felt the hardness there, heard him groan, and waited for his lips to come crashing back down onto hers.

  She writhed with impatience in his arms, and frantically worked the buttons of his shirt, pulling the thin fabric over his round and rolling shoulders. She craved for him to get in between her legs, to drive himself into her and grant her body the rapture and release it sought so strongly.

  Her fingers at his buckle, she freed him then, gasping and moaning softly as he continued to caress her heated sex. She wrapped her hand around his impressive girth, felt his tip already slick, and then he was above her, a nipple in his mouth, sending taunts and teases through her nerves as he elicited from her ever more desire.

  “Liam,” Terry groaned, her voice throaty, lust-laced. Her inhibitions had crumbled, her little worries and nags and doubts swept away in the storm that was his urgency and his unrepentant need to explore her with his hands and with his mouth. He was in between her legs then, and he devoured her like a starving animal. He drank from her like it was the one thing that would keep him from perishing. And she soared to heights she couldn’t remember having experienced before, and was overcome with the potency of his passion.

  And then he was gently easing himself into her, setting her insides aflame, a flash of pain gone in the blink of an eye as she grew accustomed to his width. Her body came alive with a throbbing, dangerous need, and she whimpered for him to bring her to bliss, begged for him to as her hands raked down his back, nails scratching into the taut skin and hard muscle, to find his round ass and squeeze it.

  She wanted to cry out, awaken all of Hanoi, but it was what remaining modesty her occupied mind could still marshal that stopped her from doing so, that kept her moaning through her teeth, or kept her clamping onto Liam’s shoulders so that her thrown vibrations of pleasure went into his body instead of the night air. Her womanhood was on fire, and she matched him, stroke for stroke, holding onto his body, lifting herself to the rhythm that he set.

  And with his hand still in between them, still setting her bud ablaze, it was like a match struck and bursting into flame. She reached her crisis, toed the precipice, and he drove her off it, filling her up, and that imprisoning knot of need burst into flame and freedom, a turbulent tempest of ecstasy and thundered in her center, and sent ripples and waves to her fingers and her toes.

  Liam lowered himself, and she could feel the heat of his body as he thrust between her quivering thighs. His hands were insatiable, deftly leaving her oversensitive nub, and now eating up her body with pinches, squeezes, and slaps.

  “I love your body,” he groaned beside her. His voice had become even more gravely, scorched with the need which she had unlocked, or reawakened. And through the hazy aftermath of her completion, she gleaned through his movements that it was only the beginning. Soon enough her needs realigned with his, and she chased, with him, after the prizes and pleasures that lovers pursue in the writhing, entangled, breathless embrace of night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “So tell me about Borneo.” Terry held his hand as they walked around the lake, going the long way back to the guest house. Just moments ago they had been lying together, panting, and naked. But it was after the tide of lust had ebbed, been pulled away by the moon, that Terry hastily put her dress on, and urged Liam to return to the guest house with her.

  Their pace was relaxed, almost meandering, and she mused on the thought that this was only the second time that Liam seemed to be enjoying their casual chatter. The first had been the Tam Coq boat trip, but even there, he’d seemed to be holding back.

  “What about it?”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Same thing I’m doing here.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” Apart from ravishing women in the woods, she thought to herself. Wrong, she corrected herself. One woman.

  Liam shrugged. “Living.”

  Terry wondered if he was regressing back to his one-word-answer ways. “So why did you leave?”

  “The hunter.” He looked at her, just a glance, and she knew that he saw the look on her face. “I left beca
use of the hunter,” he explained.

  “See,” Terry chirped. “It’s not that difficult! So I’m guessing he found you?”

  “Yes. For a while, I was doing fine in Borneo. He tracked me down, but I lost him in the jungle. I heard rumors of a monster living in the wild, and so I went to find it. He was another like me.”

  “Another?”

  “Yes, a man named Leon. He’s strange. He’s a wolf, but stuck, somewhere in the middle, half way between.” Liam looked at her, narrowed his eyes and shook his head. That one obviously stumped him.

  “Half way between a man and a wolf?”

  “Yeah.” He looked away, his head cocked a little to the side. “It’s odd. I’ve never seen anything like it. He says he’s forgotten how to shift.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose. People have forgotten their own names. But shifting, it’s like flexing a muscle.” He squeezed his fist in front of her to demonstrate. “I’m not sure how you simply forget that.”

  “Maybe it’s psychological,” she suggested. “Psychosomatic, or whatever.”

  “Maybe. He’s really old, too. I’m not sure how old, but I reckon he’s probably breaking a record.”

  “Among shapeshifters.”

  “Yeah. I get the impression that he’s lived twice my lifetime, and that’s something I’ve never heard of.”

  “How can you tell if he’s lived longer than you?”

  “You can just tell. There’s no secret message or code or whatever. It’s a bit like when you see someone and you know they’ve had a hard life. It’s the way he holds his body, the way he speaks. It’s everything, really.”

  “So what, did you just stumble across him?”

  “Yes,” Liam said. He made a face. Evidently, even he had found that bit surprising. “That is exactly what happened. I knew in general where to search, but just one day, I saw him through the trees.” He put out a hand. “He’s huge, a great big and hairy thing. Ugly as all hell.” Terry smiled. “And I just ran after him.”

  “You weren’t scared?”

  “No. I thought we might fight. I don’t know why. I was ready to shift, of course.”

  “You fight better as a bear?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m like five times bigger and heavier as a bear. Five times stronger, too.”

  “Where does it all come from?”

  “I don’t know,” Liam said. Once upon a time he had asked himself all the same questions that must be sparking in Terry’s mind, but he didn’t know. He had no answers.

  “Is it tiring?”

  “It can be.”

  “So what happened with that Leon guy? Nothing?”

  Liam shook his head. “He’s an odd man. He saw me when I was still a bit away. He just looked at me, and the look in his eyes stopped me dead. I wasn’t afraid, but I knew I was looking at something strange, something new. And then he just continued to walk. He didn’t say anything, or even appear surprised.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I walked beside him. And eventually he spoke to me. He asked me what animal I was.”

  “How did he know?”

  “I don’t know,” Liam murmured. His face told her he was lost in thought, probably reliving the memory. She wondered how much he could remember. Did his brain fill up? Did he only have room to remember the big details, the broad strokes? Did he have to pick and choose between memories?

  “How long were you there for?”

  “In Borneo?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nearly ten years.”

  “What?” Terry blurted. “So you mean when I was still in school you were traipsing around in Borneo, looking exactly like you do right now?”

  “I have a couple of new scars,” he said, and he smirked at her. “But, yeah, that sounds about right.”

  “Jesus.” It was mentally odd having to try to reconcile his looks with his age. “You’re a really old man.”

  “I am.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, and she put her head against her shoulder. “I’ve always been sort of into older men. So when did you leave?”

  “Just a few days ago. Got into Hong Kong, then China, and now Vietnam.”

  “So why did you really come here?”

  “I told you, because I like it.”

  “There’s nothing more?” Terry pressed him. “I really get the feeling like you’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not hiding anything. I already told you, I knew the last owner of the Lucky Phuc Guest House.”

  Terry laughed, wondering why she even found it funny anymore. She let go of Liam’s hand and pulled his arm over her shoulders. He held her tight. “And?”

  “And I reckon he’s dead.”

  “What?” Just like that, the bubble had burst.

  “Nothing dramatic. Old age, probably. I was last here thirty years ago. He was, I don’t know, a friend I suppose.”

  “How do you know he has died?”

  “That’s what I did yesterday. Spent time asking around, eventually I found someone who told me old Sammy had died.”

  “His name was Sammy?”

  “Yeah. That was his English name.”

  “How did he get it?”

  “Guess.”

  Terry thought for a moment, but shook her head. “Don’t know.”

  “Uncle Sam.” Liam face was somber.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that weird?”

  “I’m not sure. It could be. It also might not be. We certainly see enough t-shirts.”

  Terry nodded. She had seen all the American cultural paraphernalia in the tourist shops and stalls. “Why don’t you find his grave?”

  “What?” She could tell from the tone of his voice that he hadn’t been expecting that question.

  “You know, get some closure.” She felt a wave of sympathy for him. Every now and then, a new kernel of understanding of what he was, of how long he lived, cracked open in her mind, and the implications were always staggering. This time it was the thought that he outlived people he had formed attachments with. It was heartbreaking, and went a long way to understanding why he had initially been so reluctant.

  Then, a tailgating thought followed the first into her mind. He would outlive her. Would she end up breaking his heart by dying of old age? She didn’t want to think too far ahead, or presume to know the future, but the notion was sobering.

  “I don’t know his Vietnamese name. I’d never be able to find him. And, besides, I’m not interested in doing that. Let’s change the subject.”

  “Okay,” Terry said.

  “Let’s talk about you.”

  “No, let’s not. I feel kind of boring now.”

  “You’re not boring,” Liam said. “You did just do something illegal, after all.”

  Terry peered at him for a moment, wondering what on earth he was harping on about. The glimmer in his eyes and very slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth were what got the message across. “That’s illegal?” she asked, seconds too late realizing how stupid a question it was.

  “Of course it is.”

  “Well, then let me tell you about this one time I broke the law. Coincidentally, it was the same night I found out that shapeshifters fucking exist.”

  “They do?” Liam asked. “You’re joking.”

  “Cross my heart,” Terry said, before stopping. She regretted saying that. “Hey, come have a night cap in my room tonight?”

  “Yeah,” Liam said. “Let’s do that.”

  * * *

  “What was that?”

  Liam’s eyes darted to the window, before flicking back to Terry. “What?”

  “I saw something big on our balcony.”

  “Really?” He glanced at the door, saw only his reflection in the glass. “You sure?”

  “I think so.” Terry’s voice wavered, and he put a hand on hers. They had gone insid
e, retreated from the mosquitos that came alive in the middle of the night. The television was on, but they couldn’t understand a word of it.

  And then he saw it, a shadow too large to remain unworried, perched on the railing. He saw it through his own reflection in the glass, and on the bed beside him, Terry was also staring.

  “There,” she said, pointing at the dark mass. It hopped away in a blur. “It’s gone. It was huge!”

  “Wait in there,” Liam hissed, waving his hand down toward the ground.

  “Why? I’ll just wait here.”

  But Liam’s instincts had kicked up a storm of caution and worry in his mind. “No, no, go into the bathroom.” He watched as Terry tiptoed past the door reluctantly before he returned his attention to the balcony. He knew he’d seen something, but he couldn’t be sure what. They were on the fifth floor, so it couldn’t have been a bird or a cat. Besides, it had been far too big, and the way it had hitched and stopped to look at him, had been far too deliberate.

  He opened the heavy door to the balcony, an old and rusty metal thing with glass squares inset in heavy frames. The hinges groaned, and he winced, wishing that he wasn’t making so much sound. Stepping out onto the balcony, he closed the door behind him, leaning against it.

  “Come out,” he said quietly, keeping his voice low, so that Terry couldn’t hear him. A quick glance over his shoulder, back through the glass pane into the room told him that she was standing in the doorframe of the bathroom and watching through the same glass pane.

  He waited for a few moments, but heard nothing. He tiptoed toward the railing, leaned over quickly, and saw the empty alley below, washing lines strung between the guest house he was in and the one opposite. Multicolored clothe pegs swung back and forth on the lines in the light evening breeze.

  He turned around, leaned with his back over the railing so that he could look up. There were still two floors above him, and as he peered into the darkness, he saw two bright yellow spots flash in the darkness. “I see you,” he said, pulling his head back in, anticipating an attack.