by Mary Hughes
He stroked himself to fullness, then slipped the ring around the root of his erection. He pointed to his cock, taking her attention off the ring. “This is yours. You get to do with it whatever you want.”
“Mine?” She licked her lips. “Whatever?”
It nodded eagerly. He smiled.
She bent and petted it with her tongue. He sucked in a breath. She tickled the tip. He groaned.
“Anything, hmm?” She pushed his cock down against his belly, straddled his hips, and carefully eased herself forward, sliding him flat under her. She was wet with excitement and her pussy slid along his length like going down a slide. He groaned louder. So she did it again. And again, pumping along him over and over.
As she pumped, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like they were mating mouths. Each thrust of her tongue caused a corresponding jump of his cock under her, nudging the swollen softness of her sex.
She stilled when he cupped her breasts, one in each hand, and gently thumbed her nipples erect. He half-sat and kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers. Laying back and bringing her down flush with him, he started rolling his hips under her, his cock sliding along her slit, mimicking the tangle of their tongues. Each roll tugged at her until she was squirming and her belly went taut with longing.
Finally she couldn’t stand it any more. Sitting up, she raised herself, dripping, from his hips to settle the head of his erection at the entrance of her body. Then she slid slowly down.
He groaned the whole way, a long moan forced through gritted teeth, expelling air when the final inch of her spread to take him. She wriggled, her pelvis achingly full.
He reached for the ring between them and squeezed the thickened part. It started vibrating, directly against her clit.
She squealed. Her hips popped up at the surge of sensation and she nearly came off.
He grabbed her waist, held her on, and thrust up. He began thrusting hard, beating against her in an ever-quickening tempo.
She moaned, leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, and hung on for the ride. He began to pause at the height of each thrust to grind against her. It pressed the tiny vibrator into her soft, wet flesh. Her breath sped up with each grinding buzz.
She couldn’t keep still. Her mouth fell open and her teeth caught the tender lobe of his ear. She nibbled gently as he rose and fell under her. His breath was harsh on her shoulder, dampening her skin. She pressed closer, rubbing her nipples into his chest, then flattening her breasts against him. His abs scrubbed her belly. His shoulders under her arms dewed. The mated smell, rising with the heat of his skin, was strong.
She began to churn against him in her own rhythm, slightly out of sync with his. They pistoned again and again and then out of the blue a thrust would come together, so hard their skin smacked and her eyes popped open and her clit hit the buzzer and sang.
She soared higher, sensations like sweet alarms ringing her nipples, pussy, and everything in between. He synced his thrusts with her and they drove into each other like fighters, doubling the impact. She gasped with each smack. Her nipples were tight nubs and his cock had swollen fatter. About to come, she straightened on his hips.
He changed rhythm, harder, slower. Deeper. She released him to hang onto his wrists. Each thrust of his powerful hips raised her in the air. She flew for a split second each time he recovered for another thrust. He bounced her on his hips until she was nearly crazy with need and love.
Wrapping arms around her back, he thrust one last time, so powerfully it felt as if he were touching her soul. Joy ripped through her. She began to come, strong contractions that released powerful waves of color and light and happiness.
One thing would make her joy complete.
She slid a hand between them, razzed a bit of magic, and broke the ring open.
And then he shouted and they were coming together, hard spasms of ecstasy that shot and burst like fireworks. It was almost frightening how hard they came. They clutched each other in sweaty arms and gasped and cried out as orgasm ripped them bare.
It ebbed only slowly. She came to with her head resting in the damp crook of his neck, his cheek against her crown. His arms relaxed, holding her loosely as her heart slowed. He said, “Your magic...?”
“Surprise.” She raised her eyes and, arms still wrapped around his neck, gazed into his softly glowing gold eyes. “Just a bit, but it’s a start. That was amazing.”
He said, “That’s how much I love you. And if you let me, I’ll show you how much every day for the rest of our lives.”
She released a depressed sigh. “If the Council lets us.”
“Hey.” He took her chin in his fingertips and raised her face to his. Searched her eyes. “We have five years. Maybe we can give our house two addresses. We’ll figure it out. And in the meantime…” Inside her, his cock started to fatten.
Her eyes widened. “There are apparently advantages to mating an alpha wolf.”
“There certainly are.” He began to bounce her again.
“Say.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed. “You never did tell me. How many babies do shifters have at a time?”
“In the wild? The average is five.”
She shrieked, every muscle shouting stop. “That’s average?”
“Relax.” He chuckled. “It’s different mating with a human. My mother only had me.”
“Oh. Good.”
* * *
And so they were married discreetly in the little church next to the bookstore.
Jayden swept in as Sophia finished dressing to give her a mischievous grin. He said, “Sticking it to the Witches’ Council. I’m proud of you, kid.” When he swept out, she saw the pink bow, the one briefly worn by King, nestled in among the baby’s breath and roses of her bouquet. She smiled.
Mason was the best man and her aunt the maid of honor. Her brother Gabriel gave her away. Mr. Kibbles was the wedding planner and the Misses Jamies sat in the back row and passed out programs and tissues.
Her familiar Kat, who’d felt her use of magic all the way in the Bahamas, made it back for the wedding. She spent the whole ceremony staring at Bram…who was still gazing at his hands. Wouldn’t have worked anyway. She was a cat and he was a bird. Or maybe that was really why she was staring at him.
Their wolf pack filled both sides of the church. With Ivan gone, the women were starting to come out of their shells. With Noah guiding local businesses, the workers were starting to return to Matinsfield. Killer, for his part in the murder of wolves, was sent to jail. Bonnie and Clyde and Killer’s little brother Marlowe were already mellowing, and Noah allowed Attila to stay on the condition he take anger management classes. Several new jobs opened up in town, which brought back even more of the pack workers.
As Sophia waited in the vestibule, Aunt Linda gave her the “talk”. Not the one about the wedding night, thank goodness. But about head, hands, and heart. Apparently the reason she’d lived through releasing her death magic wasn’t just her wolf’s connection to Noah, but also the wizard prince’s love for her. He’d not only soothed her and getting her through the worst of the pain like a birthing coach, but he brought some serious countermagic to bear. The combination of shifter magic being drenched and deep-seated in life plus Noah’s own power far overshadowed her death magic. It was further aided by his father’s life magic, which had also come from the heart. Noah’s love protected her.
Magic was all about potentials, and thank goodness for that.
At the reception, she sat side by side with her new husband at the head table, watching their guests chat, delighting in the joy of wolf pups and witch kids racing around together.
“Who would have thought it?” She leaned into Noah’s strength and briefly rested her head in the crook of his neck. “A witch who rejected magic ending up with, not only all her magic, but also with shifter magic—and mated to an alpha who is also a wizard prince.”
“Which I desperately didn’t want to be.” He kissed the top of her head then l
eaned back to smile at her. “But somehow both of us, in throwing away our powers, found an even better power.”
She lifted her head and smiled into his eyes. “What’s that?”
His golden eyes held forever. “The power of love.”
Dear Reader,
Thanks for reading! My greatest joy as an author comes from you joining me here in my book world. I hope you’ve found entertainment and pleasure in these pages for a time, and that you’ll come back to join me soon.
~Mary
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Curious to find out what happens next with the prophecy? Continue reading for the first chapter from Mind Mates, Pull of the Moon Book Two.
Mind Mates
Pull of the Moon
© 2016 Mary Hughes
Pretty little shifter, wizard prince—their taboo love could burn the barriers between worlds.
Shifter Emma Singer has more problems than she can shake her pretty wolf tail at. Her father has been executed, and her mother and brother plan to sell her to a pack alpha for his harem. Even the wicked little crush she has on her boss is doomed—why would six-and-a-half feet of hot, handsome, royal wizard want a boring, good-girl, iota shifter like her? Not to mention her only power is going berserker—that's a real relation-shipwreck!
Gabriel Light is a wizard prince who turned his back on his exceptional powers after he was accused of causing his parents’ death. Now he pours his intellect into his tech business, and hides his naughty, forbidden lust for his pretty shifter clerk. But when his sister is imprisoned, and Emma is kidnapped, it's time for this alpha geek-wizard to decloak with all laser cannons blazing. Only one problem—with Emma at his side, how can he stay focused, with his inner wolf howling to have her?
Emma’s father left behind a journal. When Gabriel and Emma accidentally release its hidden magic, they learn that together, they hold a key to power beyond imagining—if they can stay alive long enough to use it. But when Emma unleashes her berserker wolf on their enemies, can Gabriel draw her back from the brink before she destroys everyone in her path?
Warning: Contains a hot wizard prince panting to bring out a good-girl shifter’s naughty side. Accidental voyeurism, deliberate orgasms, a jealous rival wizard, and fun with prophecy
Enjoy the following chapter from Mind Mates:
Swaying atop the three-story ladder, Emma Singer swallowed hard and forced herself to climb higher.
Her fingers curled tighter around the rungs as she neared the metal braces of the Choice Buy’s exposed-structure ceiling. An Employee Appreciation Day banner drooped from her clenched hand.
“Damn. This good-girl shtick is getting old.”
Wolf shifters, even iotas, weren’t afraid of heights, but her stomach slid toward her legs the higher she got, maybe knowing something she didn’t.
She glanced down and immediately wished she hadn’t.
From the hushed, rarefied heights, her fellow Techie Titans looked like ants gathered around the home-theater setup, where their boss was installing a game. The huge flat-panel was reduced to postage-stamp size by her height.
Strangely, her six-foot-five boss looked just as imposing as usual.
“Hurry up, Emma.” Brant the Blundering, the gangly teen who’d pulled down the streamer in the first place, called from the base of the ladder. He was built like a puppy who hadn’t grown into his paws—and was as coordinated too.
Swallowing her vertigo, she stretched to refasten the crepe paper to a joist.
“More to the right.” Brant waved an arm to demonstrate, hand like an oven mitt on a broomstick.
He hit the ladder and knocked it sideways.
Emma tottered, arms pinwheeling. The streamer fluttered away, waving mockingly in crepe paper’s version of the finger.
No good deed goes unpunished flashed through her thoughts as she toppled off. The ladder rocked a few times before righting itself with a kerchunk.
It seemed an eternity for Emma to fall the three stories. Below, Brant’s wide eyes followed her descent. She had time to wonder if there was a twelve-stepper for acute volunteeritis.
Well. This is gonna hurt.
“Emma!” In the nick of time her boss, Dr. Gabriel Light, swooped in, doing his usual hero thing.
He caught her.
She landed in his strong arms (no problem). They were tight around her (no problem). His scent, masculine and heady, filled her sudden sucked breath (still no problem, or not much of one).
Automatically she clung to his broad shoulders, hard muscles under her fingers, her inner wolf wagging its tail (starting to be a problem). Her fingers threaded into his silky hair (definitely trekking into problem territory). Her lips, a whisper from his chiseled jaw, his delectable earlobe, opened, her tongue aching to swipe a taste.
Red-alert problem.
“Emma, you’re safe. Trust me.” Behind his plain glasses, his lids lifted to her. His irises were a startling, star-shot blue-green, like the moon sparkling off a warm sea, making her want to dive in and do the breaststroke.
For all that he dressed like a junior college professor, the man was teeth-achingly beautiful.
She tried to swallow, but her tongue had swollen to fill her mouth and nothing happened. She tried again, managing to pant and gulp at the same time, swallowed wrong, and started coughing uncontrollably.
Dr. Light set her on her feet—by sliding her down his sleek, muscular, cotton-and-male-smelling chest, oh yum—and rubbed her between her shoulders to ease her.
His big, warm palm did ease her cough, but the breadth of his hand filled the entire area between her shoulder blades and made the rest of her clench with aching desire. Gabriel Light wasn’t simply lead Techie Titan—he was their nerd king, and he was built like royalty.
The little iota wolf in Emma yipped happily.
But she, her human self, wasn’t so pleased. Despite her interest in him, he’d never shown anything more than kindly concern. The last thing she wanted was to be a poor lovesick fool.
But he smelled so good.
“Are you all right?” Dr. Light, one arm clasped around her, slid a long, large finger under her chin. Tilting her head up, he gazed deep into her eyes. His own were sympathetic.
She stopped breathing at the oceans of tenderness in that gaze—fraternal tenderness, but so damned gorgeous.
Plus side, no breath meant her hacking cough stopped, long enough for her to wheeze with what air remained in her lungs, “I’m fine.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up in a gentle semi-smile. “You always say that. ‘I’m fine.’ Whether you are or not. You’re not a trainee anymore, Emma. It’s okay not to be fine. You won’t get fired. It’s okay to admit you need help.”
An iota wolf, admit to being vulnerable? Hell no, it wasn’t okay. Her breath surged back in a rush. She was bottom of the pack, and worse, built like a kitten, tiny and cute to the point that she had to buy her clothes in the kids’ section at WallyWorld and one of her nicknames was Piglet. She could never ever be caught out as needy and vulnerable, surrounded by apex predators all day.
She wasn’t sure whether she meant her shifter pack or the six-foot-five walking sex bomb who was her boss.
Human boss, she reminded herself. Who didn’t seem to have a clue she was interested in him.
“I’m fine,” she repeated through clenched teeth.
“Are you?” His gaze shifted to her mouth, and she stopped breathing again. “That’s bad for your teeth, you know. Relax.”
He eased the chiding words with a slide of his finger along her jaw, the rough whorls of the pad caressing her flesh. His touch raised tremors in her that shimmered down her th
roat, waking nipples and belly and wolf.
Oh, to grab him, hook a leg behind his, and take him down to the floor—with her underneath.
She was strong and tricky and might have tried it in private, except he moved like he’d studied martial arts and knew what to do. A warrior’s grace hinted at an extremely muscular body lurking beneath his sweater vests and slouchy pants. She’d probably only embarrass herself.
Her wolf didn’t seem to care. It was panting and lifting its tail, and her human wasn’t far behind.
So naturally, when her eyes were big pools of do-me and she was spurting pheromones like a department store perfumery, her alpha wolf Bruiser prowled into the store.
* * *
Bzz-bzzt. A buzz like an angry hornet stung wizard prince Gabriel Light’s ears the moment the predator slunk into the store.
Cap’n Crunch me. Gabriel had magically alarmed the door for just such an event, but why now, when he’d finally gotten a semi-innocent excuse to wrap his arms around this warm bundle of soft, sweet-smelling heaven?
Emma. It felt like he’d been dying to hold her forever. Now, with her in his arms, was the first time in months he could breathe.
But that buzzing alarm told him the approaching beast was male, a wolf shifter, and, from that level of sting, Emma’s alpha. The beast was not going to appreciate seeing her in another man’s arms.
She started trembling, no doubt in response to the alpha’s rampant fight-club stench, a musk even Gabriel could smell. He tried to ease her tension with a joke.
“Hey, Emma. How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?”
She skewered him with a disbelieving stare, icing his flesh. He’d blundered, she didn’t understand he was trying to comfort her, nobody gets my skewed sense of humor… Then she gulped and said, “Eight? Like, um, eight legs?”
Immediately his world brightened. “Nope. Ten tickles. Get it? Tentacles?”
