FED TO THE WOLVES, PART 4: BLOOD MOON WAXING, is Available NOW in the Kindle Store!
Here’s a Sizzling Sneak Peak!
“Penny fo’ yo’ thoughts.”
I felt his warm breath on the nape of my neck and shivered, my body heating as I felt his strength behind me; his undeniable presence.
I sighed, and he slid an arm around my middle, pulling me into him, urging me to lean against him. I did, letting my head fall back onto the hard planes of his chest, warm beneath his worn t-shirt.
“I’m not sure what I’m lookin’ for, and…” I shook my head. “I just don’t want to let her down.”
“Impossible, Cher,” he said, and pressed a kiss to my temple.
His lips were hot and soft, his stubble rasping over my skin.
“Yo’ grandmotha’ knew what she was doin’ when she tol’ me to find you. You da only one can save us, hon.”
“But that’s not true, is it,” I said, turning to look up into those mesmerizing, dark eyes of his. “I can only save one of you, and that’s if I manage to get p-… If I manage to get p-pregnant-”
My voice broke, and I felt myself blushing, wishing I could just say the dang word without stuttering like a bashful schoolgirl. Lord, but it still felt crazy to say out loud. I was knee-deep in this, and I still couldn’t believe what I was doin’ with these boys!
“-before the full moon. We’re runnin’ out of time, as it is,” I said.
“You righ’, Cher,” Quentin said.
He turned me around and held me to him, pressing me against him until I could feel him growin’ against me through the fabric of his slacks.
“An dat’s why I don’ wan’ you to feel shy ‘bout bein’ with any one a’ us,” he said, brushing my hair back from my eyes. “Besides, somehow it feel wrong not ta share someone so damn go’geous wit my brothas. The wolf in me want dat, Cher.”
He grinned at the look of surprise on my face. He knew about me and Felix, alright! But what was he saying? Did he really not mind sharing me?
“We a pack, naw,” he said, his eyes flashing, “An’ we all feel it. Wantin’ ta mate as a pack, to share dis beaut’ful gif’ you bring us, Cher… To savor the jois de vivre as pack mates. Brothas.”
“But,” I said, then gasped as he reached around and gripped my ass through the thin cotton of my sundress, grinding me onto his hard on, now thick and rock-solid, beggin’ to be released. “Oh, Lordy… But what does that mean when I do end up mated to one of y’all? When I’m carryin’ one of y’all’s child?”
“Well,” he said, “We have ta cross dat bridge when we get to it, no?”
He looked down at me, and I could see the hunger in his eyes.
“Dis new fo’ us, too, Cher.”
I ran my hands over his hard chest, then, unable to deny the heat between us, the feeling growing inside me, urging me to taste him, to tease him, to let him inside of me. His scent was in my nostrils, warm skin and spice and him-powerful and potent and suddenly turning me on so much I wanted to cry.
What was this? This need to be filled? To be taken?
What were these damn Boucher boys doin’ to me? Little Trixie Gordon? The girl who wouldn’t just spread her legs for any ol’ man was now pantin’ over them at the drop of a hat.
But it wasn’t just men, was it? It was them, and more specifically, him. The man who stood before me, the beast inside him roaring in my mind, slavering and hungry for my flesh, eager to fill my fertile young body and make me his own, and I was eager to let him. Right here in my old room, right now, with Felix just around the corner.
“I…I want you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
His fingers toyed with the spaghetti straps of my dress, his eyes roaming over my breasts, braless today due to the heat, a hint of cleavage visible above the sweetheart neckline. When his eyes met mine, they flashed like burnished gold. I shivered beneath that feral gaze, and knew without a doubt that there was something inside me just as wild, itchin’ to break free whenever he was around. Whenever this monstrous man was near.
Maybe these boys weren’t the only dangerous ones.
I pushed my straps down, letting the dress slip off. It whispered over my breasts, my nipples, stiff and aching to be touched, then down over the swell of my hips, dropping softly to the floor.
A deep growl from the back of Quentin’s throat made my breath hitch in my chest and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Those golden eyes were burnin’ as they moved over me, standing before him only my pink cotton panties, a wet spot growing beneath the heat of his stare. I felt his roaming eyes like the trace of a finger as they moved down my body, then up again, lingering, caressing, consuming.
Then, without warning, he was on top of me, pushing me back down onto the day bed, the tenuous bonds of his restraint snapped beneath the sharp teeth of the wolf within. He tore the crotch of my panties, the fabric shredding beneath his hands, now inhumanly strong, inhumanly fast, in his urgency to get to what was his.
And keep an eye out for FED TO THE WOLVES, PART 5, Coming Soon, just in time for Christmas!
Happy Holidays to all my fabulous readers! 🙂 Love ya! MWAH!