by Lila Dubois
Lena slipped him out of her mouth, sliding one hand around him and fisting him up and down, keeping him near the edge. “No, I don’t want you to come like this. I want you inside me, hard and hot.”
He jerked in her fist, and for a moment his eyes flashed in the dark, like those of a cat. A great riiiiip rent the silence, and then Luke grabbed her, his torn shirt dangling from his forearms. He drove her down into the carpet, pushing her down with his body, letting her feel every pound of muscle and bone.
He shoved her legs open, his cock brushing over the front of her panties. The tip of his cock pushed at her, forcing the fabric into the drenching wetness between the lips of her sex.
He bumped her clit, and Lena almost came. “God, Luke, please. No, wait, condom.” Cursing herself for almost forgetting protection, Lena used her hands to maneuver him away from her pussy.
“What?” he growled. Fear shot through Lena, dumping adrenaline into her system. There was something almost unworldly about the bass rumble of his voice. She could feel it low in her belly. Luke leaned in, and Lena, without knowing why, whimpered and turned her face away.
Luke, his incredible cheekbones highlighted by the pale light that filtered through the windows, stopped. He held still above her and Lena’s moment of fear passed. She looked at him—his expression was one of puzzlement.
“Condom?”
Lena stretched for a drawer in the side table, pulling it completely out. Under the folder of Variety clippings she kept to reference while watching TV, Lena found a handful of condoms, left from a brief dating stint with a guy who only liked fucking on the floor.
She held up one of the black foil packets. “Condom. Sorry, but we’re not doing this bareback.” She held it out to Luke, who stared at her hand, making no move to take it.
Lena’s arousal was deflating rapidly, so she ripped it open and pushed Luke onto his back with a hand on his shoulder. He had toed off his shoes at some point, so Lena used the opportunity to strip him of his boxers.
Luke watched her from under hooded lids as Lena straddled his thighs and slipped the condom on. His refusal to do it himself, and the pause in foreplay, had dimmed her ardor. Handling his hot cock, rolling the slippery latex over him, watching his back arch and fists clench, brought her arousal back, full force.
Lena stroked his balls, using a firm touch so it wouldn’t tickle. “I thought you were supposed to be undressing me?”
The words were a challenge, a tease, and he took the bait. In the next breath Lena was once more on her back, with Luke looming over her, his fingers slipping down into the front of her panties. Lena planted her heels and arched her hips, pushing herself onto his hand. His finger grazed her clit—her world exploded. The orgasm rocked her, had her hips helplessly rubbing against his hand, the continued stimulation keeping her suspended at the pinnacle of the orgasm.
“Naughty girl.” Luke pulled his hand from her panties and pushed her hips down. Lena sucked in a deep breath and looked at her lover. He was smiling, in a smug, predatory way. “You just found fulfillment, didn’t you?”
“You couldn’t tell?” she asked, raising a brow.
Luke leaned down and kissed her, pushing his tongue firmly between her teeth, fucking her mouth. When he pulled away her lips felt swollen, abused.
“I could tell. Can you reach peak again?”
Lena smiled slightly at his odd word choice, loving how formal it made him seem. In the dark, with the moonlight highlighting his face, creating shadows under his brows and cheekbones, his low accented voice oozing around her, Lena felt like a lush flower in a tropical jungle.
“Yes.” She whispered her reply, stroking his chest.
He smiled in the dark, and slid his hand back into her panties. “Good.”
It was almost too soon, her body too sensitive, but his fingertips played over her clit, and soon she was gasping and moaning beneath him, her nails raking lines over his chest and arms. He kissed her, tasting her moans as she twisted beneath him, his fingers stroking and swirling her engorged clit.
He circled around her clit, the broad tip of his finger avoiding the sensitive peak, so that tightness built low in her belly. When this reached its zenith, when Lena felt like a windup toy wound as tight as she could go, he changed the movement, touching her clit with a single long, hard stroke.
She bit his lip when she came, not meaning to but unable to stop herself as her body went rigid with pleasure. Luke growled menacingly, and Lena whimpered, mind swirling in a spiral of pleasure and fear and want. She was afraid of how deeply this orgasm affected her, though the minute it started to fade, she craved it again, like a junkie looking for her next fix.
“Luke, Luke, Luke.” His name was a mantra on her lips, a sweet invocation. He slid down her body, pausing at her breasts to suck and bite each nipple. He settled between her legs, his muscle-roped shoulders forcing them wide. He licked her soaked panties, pushing them between the lips of her sex.
“Watch me,” he growled, and Lena looked down the length of her torso to see him bite the fabric over her clit, which was clearly visible as a small bump. His jaws closed, teeth coming together, sliding over her, now pinching her clit before he came away from her with a thin fold of panty between his teeth.
It was too much for Lena, who was almost brought to a third shattering orgasm by the sight of her dark panties between his strong white teeth.
“Now, now, now. Please. I need you in me, now.”
He moved back, pulling the fabric from between the folds of her body. When it wouldn’t stretch any farther, Luke took the crotch of her panties between his hands and ripped them. Wearing the tattered remains of her underwear like a belt, Lena grabbed at Luke’s shoulders, impressed by his control, his thoroughness, but wanting him in her now, now, now!
“Damn it, Luke, now!”
He came down on top of her, pushing her arms up over her head so he could brace himself on his elbows. “Bend your legs, spread them wider.”
Lena obeyed, spreading herself until her body was wide and vulnerable under his.
“Look at me, look at me.”
Lena looked up into his eyes, and for the second time they seemed to flash in the dark. She ran her hands up and down his arms, feeling the dips and hollows of the muscles that corded beneath the skin on his arms and back. She felt the weight of his gaze with the same reality that she felt the weight of his lower body pressing down on her.
His hips flexed, cock sliding against her slick flesh. He bent to kiss her, his hips going still, and when he broke the kiss, he slammed into her. She was wet and ready, his cock digging deep into her welcoming body. Lena could barely breathe for the perfect pleasure of it, the deep beauty of being so truly connected to another being.
He pulled out and thrust again, filling her. The thrusts were deliberate and slow, testing, but on the third he started a rhythm. Lena wrapped her legs up and over his ass so she could feel the muscles flex.
She rose to meet him as he surged into her, filling her completely each time before retreating. They fucked until sweat slicked both their bodies, until Lena wondered how she’d lived without knowing what it was to have him fill her.
He sped up, breaking their shared gaze to bury his face in her neck, licking the salty skin there. He was close, and so was she.
Her belly was tight, constricted as if held by a band, and when he thrust a final time, throwing his head back, that band split, her body catapulting into the orgasm. Luke cried out as his long drawn-out orgasm claimed him, the sound dim and far away as Lena withered in the throes of her own physical bliss.
When the pleasure finally started to fade, Luke slipped out of her and rolled on his side, one hand splayed over her belly, head resting on his other arm. Lena blinked and the ceiling came back into focus. She could feel her heartbeat in her sex and the ghostly impression of his cock deep within her.
With what little energy she could muster, Lena turned her head to look at Luke. His face was serious, ey
es hidden by shadows, deep brackets of concern around his mouth.
“Did you enjoy that?”
Lena blinked in confusion. How could he even ask?
She looked him over, from his awesome shoulders, chiseled chest and belly, to his softening cock still imprisoned within the condom. All she could think was—mine.
“Lena? Did you enjoy it?”
Returning her gaze to his face, she let a grin spread across her mouth, and when he answered her with a tentative smile, she pounced on him.
Note from Lila
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About Lila
Lila Dubois is a multi-published bestselling author of erotic, paranormal and fantasy romance. Her books have been nominated for many awards, including RT Book Reviews Erotic Novella for Undone Rebel and the Golden Flogger.
Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England, Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently.
Lila lives in Los Angeles and loves receiving email from readers, though she is slow to respond since she recently created a tiny human. Can books featuring secret baby plots be far behind?
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eBooks by Lila Dubois
Visit Lila’s website at: http://www.LilaDubois.net
The Glenncailty Ghosts, A Gothic Romance Series
1. Redemption
2. Lovers
3. Ghosts
4. Bones
Monsters In Hollywood, a Paranormal Erotic Romance series
1. Dial M for Monster
2. My Fair Monster
3. Gone With the Monster
Undone Lovers, a BDSM Erotic Romance series
1. Undone Rebel
2. Undone Dom
3. Undone Diva
Zinah, a Fantasy Romance series
1. Forbidden
2. Savage
3. Bound
Stand Alone Titles
Betrayed by Love
Briar Rose
Calling the Wild
Dangerous Lust
His Wolf Heart
Red Ribbon
Savage Satisfaction
Sealed With a Kiss
Lila recommends … Renee George
Pit Perfect
Barkside of the Moon Mysteries, Book 1
Renee George
Chapter 1
When I was eighteen years old, I came home from a sleepover and found my mom and dad with their throats cut, and their hearts ripped from their chests.
My little brother Danny was in a broom closet in the kitchen, his arms wrapped around his knees, and his face pale and ghostly. Until that day, I’d planned to go to college and study medicine after graduation, but instead, I ended up staying home and taking care of my seven-year-old brother.
Seventeen years later, my brother was murdered. At the time, Danny’s death looked like it would go unsolved, much like my parents’ had.
Without Haze Kinsey, my best friend since we were five, the killers would have gotten away with it. She was a special agent for the FBI for almost a decade, and when I called her about Danny’s death, she dropped everything to come help me get him justice. The evil group of witches and Shifters responsible for the decimation of my family paid with their lives.
Yes. I said witches and Shifters. Did I forget to mention I’m a werecougar? Oh, and my friend Hazel is a witch. Recently, I discovered witches in my own family tree on my mother’s side. Shifters, in general, only mated with Shifters, but witches were the exception. As a matter of fact, my friend Haze is mated to a bear Shifter.
I wouldn’t have known about the witch in my genealogy, though, if a rogue witch coven hadn’t done some funky hoodoo witchery to me. Apparently, the spell activated a latent talent that had been dormant in my hybrid genes.
My ancestor’s magic acted like truth serum to anyone who came near her. No one could lie in her presence. Lucky me, my ability was a much lesser form of hers. People didn’t have to tell me the truth, but whenever they were around me, they had the compulsion to overshare all sorts of private matters about themselves. This can get seriously uncomfortable for all parties involved. Like, the fact that I didn’t need to know that Janet Strickland had been wearing the same pair of underwear for an entire week, or that Mike Dandridge had sexual fantasies about clowns.
My newfound talent made me unpopular and unwelcome in a town full of paranormal creatures who thrived on little deceptions. So, when Haze discovered the whereabouts of my dad’s brother, a guy I hadn’t known even existed, I sold all my belongings, let the bank have my parents’ house, jumped in my truck, and headed south.
After two days and 700 miles of nonstop gray, snowy weather, I pulled my screeching green and yellow mini-truck into an auto repair shop called The Rusty Wrench. Much like my beloved pickup, I’d needed a new start, and moving to a small town occupied by humans seemed the best shot. I’d barely made it to Moonrise, Missouri before my truck began its death throes. The vehicle protested the last 127 miles by sputtering to a halt as I rolled her into the closest spot.
The shop was a small white-brick building with a one-car garage off to the right side. A black SUV and a white compact car occupied two of the six parking spots.
A sign on the office door said: No Credit Cards. Cash Only. Some Local Checks Accepted (Except from Earl—You Know Why, Earl! You check-bouncing bastard).
A man in stained coveralls, wiping a greasy tool with a rag, came out the side door of the garage. He had a full head of wavy gray hair, bushy eyebrows over light blue, almost colorless eyes, and a minimally lined face that made me wonder about his age. I got out of the truck to greet him.
“Can I help you, miss?” His voice was soft and raspy with a strong accent that was not quite Deep South.
“Yes, please.” I adjusted my puffy winter coat. “The heater stopped working first. Then the truck started jerking for the last fifty miles or so.”
He scratched his stubbly chin. “You could have thrown a rod, sheared the distributor, or you have a bad ignition module. That’s pretty common on these trucks.”
I blinked at him. I could name every muscle in the human body and twelve different kinds of viruses, but I didn’t know a spark plug from a radiator cap. “And that all means…”
“If you threw a rod, the engine is toast. You’ll need a new vehicle.”
“Crap.” I grimaced. “What if it’s the other thingies?”
The scruffy mechanic shrugged. “A sheared distributor is an easy fix, but I have to order in the part, which means it won’t get fixed for a couple of days. Best-case scenario, it’s the ignition module. I have a few on hand. Could get you going in a couple of hours, but…” he looked over my shoulder at the truck and shook his head, “…I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
I must’ve looked really forlorn because the guy said, “It might not need any parts. Let me take a look at it first. You can grab a cup of coffee across the street at Langdon’s One-Stop.”
He pointed to the gas station across the road. It didn’t look like much. The pale-blue paint on the front of the building looked in need of a new coat, and the weather-beaten sign with the store’s name on it had seen better days. There was a car at the gas pumps and
a couple more in the parking lot, but not enough to call it busy.
I’d had enough of one-stops, though, thank you. The bathrooms had been horrible enough to make a wereraccoon yark, and it took a lot to make those garbage eaters sick. Besides, I wasn’t just passing through Moonrise, Missouri.
“Have you ever heard of The Cat’s Meow Café?” Saying the name out loud made me smile the way it had when Hazel had first said it to me. I’d followed my GPS into town, so I knew I wasn’t too far away from the place.
“Just up the street about two blocks, take a right on Sterling Street. You can’t miss it. I should have some news in about an hour or so, but take your time.”
“Thank you, Mister…”
“Greer.” He shoved the tool in his pocket. “Greer Knowles.”
“I’m Lily Mason.”
“Nice to meet ya,” said Greer. “The place gets hoppin’ around noon. That’s when church lets out.”
I looked at my phone. It was a little before noon now. “Good. I could go for something to eat. How are the burgers?”
“Best in town,” he quipped.
I laughed. “Good enough.”
Even in the sub-freezing temperature, my hands were sweating in my mittens. I wasn’t sure what had me more nervous, leaving the town I grew up in for the first time in my life or meeting an uncle I’d never known existed.
I crossed a four-way intersection. One of the signs was missing, and I saw the four-by-four post had snapped off at its base. I hadn’t noticed it on my way in. Crap. Had I run a stop sign? I walked the two blocks to Sterling. The diner was just where Greer had said. A blue truck, a green mini-coup, and a sheriff’s SUV were parked out front.