The Billionaire Shifter's Secret Baby: (Paranormal Weretiger Secret Baby Romance) (Howls Romance #4) (Billionaire Shifters Club)

by Diana Seere

  They stepped onto the old elevator together, Lars put his palm over a large metal plate, and the car lurched downward. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text.

  “Are we going to the wine cellar again?” she asked, not entirely eager to revisit that hard, cold table.

  “It’s time you saw the Novo Club.”

  “The what?”

  “The club for shifters. Much more exclusive than the Platinum, although the ownership is interconnected.”

  “Lars, I’m not really part of that world. I’m not sure that’s what I want to face tonight, meeting all the…” She didn’t know how to put it. The elite? The rich snobs who’d excluded her all her life?

  “You don’t have to meet anyone. I’ve sent a message ahead for Morgan to escort us immediately to a private suite.”

  “Morgan?”

  “Old man who runs the place. The butler. We can trust him.”

  They stepped out of the elevator into a room filled with leather chairs, bookcases, and well-polished antique tables, where an old man with white hair greeted them with a decanter, bottles of beer, and glasses on a silver tray.

  “This way, Mr. Jensen,” Morgan said. “And Miss Jablonski. I’ve started a fire in the Burgundy Room, and there are a few other refreshments.” He turned and gestured for them to follow him through a narrow oak door that was black with age.

  They walked down a dark hallway flickering with warm candlelight from wall sconces and then through another oak door, where Morgan stepped aside and bowed.

  “Ring the bell if you need anything,” he said, closing the door between them.

  Kara didn’t even turn around before Lars’ hard body was pressing her against the heavy oak door.

  “Kara,” he growled into her hair, catching up handfuls of it in his fist as he kissed her neck, fierce and openmouthed, his teeth scraping her skin.

  Desire flared in her as if there’d been no delay between the kiss upstairs, the wild lovemaking the other night, and their first passionate meeting. There was never anything but this, the two of them together. United. Loving.

  One of his hands slid over her ribs and captured her breast through the fabric while his mouth continued to feast on her neck. Pleasure shot through her, turning her boneless. She clung to the door and let herself enjoy the sensations buffeting her body. This time she wouldn’t feel guilty, embarrassed, or ashamed. This time she knew it was meant to be.

  This time she was going to enjoy every second.

  She went limp against the door and let herself sink into semiconsciousness. There were only his hands, his mouth, and the sensual spell he was casting over her body. His clever hands removed her clothes, and she felt a whisper of cool air against her bare skin, making her shiver.

  “We need to warm you up,” he said, holding her wrists with one of his hands over her head against the door. One broad palm rested in the small of her back, holding her in place as he licked and nibbled across her shoulders. She shivered again, this time from helpless pleasure. Her nipples, pressed against the hard door, tightened with need.

  “Touch me,” she said.

  “Aren’t I touching you?”

  She arched under him. “Please—Lars—”

  “Perhaps you should be more specific.” He moved his hand down over the swell of her bottom and dug his fingers into her flesh. “God, you’re so damn sexy,” he growled, pushing his hips against her. Although he still wore his pants, he felt harder than she’d thought possible.

  She turned her head and tried to twist around. She wanted to hold him and make him touch her where she was wet and tight for him. The pressure of him on her backside made her want it all inside her, now, immediately, to the hilt. “I want to touch you,” she gasped.

  Although he released her hands, he didn’t move his body, which still pinned her to the door. He caressed her back and waist as if every inch needed to be touched slowly and carefully. The fabric of his shirt and wool trousers was rough against her bare skin, which only aroused her further. She was utterly vulnerable to him.

  But not afraid. Not anymore. He was strong, but she had power over him as well. They were two halves of One, in complete balance.

  This night would be the beginning of forever.

  Another shiver racked her body as she felt the truth of it. They would have many days and nights together, but this moment was the beginning of their true bonding.

  “Forgive me,” Lars said, wrapping his arms around her shaking form and pulling her to face him. “I’m a selfish oaf. While I worship your body, you freeze to death.”

  She reached up and seized the first button on his shirt. “I’m not cold. I’m”—she worked the first one apart, then the next two—“excited.” There. No undershirt, just him. She brushed her erect nipples against his golden chest hair and moaned, shameless.

  “God, Kara, what you do to me.” He kissed her hard but quickly on the mouth and then kicked off his shoes, attacked his belt, the fastener underneath, the zipper. In less than a second, the fine wool pooled at his ankles and he stood there in a pair of tight black boxers, his arousal as obvious as the love in his eyes. With a grin, he gestured to a stately four-poster bed near a fireplace. Heavy tapestries lined the walls, and velvet drapes hung at each corner of the bed.

  She didn’t have time to notice anything else because Lars caught her up in his arms and flung her onto the mattress, a feat no mere human could’ve managed. As she gasped for breath, laughing, he jumped on the bed next to her. He was kneeling, hands on his hips, his blue eyes gleaming like burning embers in the firelight. He’d torn off the boxers, she noticed with approval, and then kept on noticing. Their other times together had been so rushed, she hadn’t gotten a good look.

  Or touch. She reached out, wrapped her fingers around him, and began massaging her thumb into the spot she hoped would—

  Ah, yes. She’d found a good spot. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and began taking shallow breaths.

  “You’re beautiful too,” she said, getting up on her knees for a better angle to stroke him. She kissed his throat, flicking her tongue over the tendons, the sweat, the racing pulse that so perfectly matched her own. While she continued squeezing his cock, she bit down lightly on the muscles leading to his shoulder, unable to resist his taste, which was salty, male, unique. She knew he would taste the same as a tiger, that this essence had nothing to do with their superficial form. If he were surrounded by a hundred other tigers, she could find him by scent alone. Instantly. And he could do the same with her.

  His hand came down over her wrist, stilling her. “Enough,” he said, his voice tight. “Take pity.”

  She smiled into his chest and inhaled more of his delicious scent. “I’m taking as much as I can.” With a sigh, she tilted her head back and met his hot gaze.

  “Kara,” he said.

  “Lars.”

  He caught her up in his arms and dropped his mouth to hers. Their tongues tangled in a hot, rushed dance. They angled their faces to deepen the kiss, feast on each other. His hands caught her shoulders and guided her onto her back as he climbed on top of her, graceful and confident, a predator with his prey.

  Dangerous herself, Kara grabbed him by the back of the neck, her nails digging into his flesh, and pulled him down to her to continue the kiss. His knee knocked hers apart, spreading her thighs wide beneath him on the soft sheets. Arching, she reached for his cock and guided it between her legs, stroking it like she’d done a moment earlier, but harder, pulling him with long strokes to draw him inside her.

  He took over then, palming her wetness, then rubbing her clit, sliding the tip of his cock around the entrance of her wet folds but not pushing deeper.

  Teasing her.

  “Now,” she begged.

  “Hm,” he said, continuing to slide his thumb over her folds, circling her clit in lazy, unhurried strokes.

  “I’ll come when— Just do it,” she said.

  “What’s the hurry?”


  The pressure built inside her, making speech impossible. Her breath was coming in little bursts, not enough to fill her lungs. She was empty everywhere. “I want you inside me,” she gasped. “Now. Now. Please.”

  “Hm,” he said again, leaning down and licking the side of her face. Oh God. How did he know she loved that? And then he was kissing her breasts, lightly biting the hard nipples, his hot breath and sharp teeth sending electric shocks through every nerve in her body.

  Just as she began to come, he grabbed her hips and thrust into her with a roar.

  The old legends whispered to him as he pulled back, then entered her again as if one flesh, the sound of ancient voices carrying him forward, blending with The Beat. It overpowered him, turning him half-crazy as Kara’s legs opened for him, her mouth on his, hot tongue running along the edge of his teeth, fingernails scratching his back, urging him deeper, welcoming him into her as if they could heal the rift of time.

  His.

  She was his, the fruit of their first coupling sleeping a few rooms away, his entire existence forever changed in less than twenty-four hours after coincidence turned into fate.

  Twice.

  A ready-made family was here now, his child sweet and perfect, a son to carry on the Jensen name. As he kissed Kara, his heart swelled, the brush of his chest against hers a delight as he moved in and out like the tick of a great clock, counting their love. Stroke by stroke, thrust by thrust, gasp by gasp.

  How could it be so easy? Perhaps, he thought as she broke away and arched up into him, it was meant to be so simple.

  For nearly three years he’d been unable to forget her.

  Fate made him understand now.

  “Lars,” she said, his name stretched beyond sound, her sultry voice going tight and low at the end as emotion took over her flesh. Round, sensual breasts crushed against his ribs as he pushed his way home, again and again and again, her tight pussy so perfect it drowned out the world, the flow of soft curve against hard muscle making them merge into one.

  The One.

  He reached between them, fingers seeking her clit, the slick heat between her legs making him smile against her mouth. She gasped, then moaned against his lips, coming in seconds, bucking against his hand.

  Restraint was never his strong suit. As she took the pleasure he so freely gave, he wrapped his free hand in her thick hair, the movement releasing a whiff of her perfume, and as Lars stared deep into Kara’s eyes, he watched her unravel under him, body quaking as he moved inside her, stroking her in rhythm until she pulled him deep within.

  The press of his open palm against her bare ass cheek, the feel of her hand on his shoulders, all the sensations mixed with his fiery need, lubricated by sweat and time and desire, turning their climax into something both finite and infinite, an apology and a celebration.

  A vow and a homecoming.

  He burst inside her, letting out a long groan of satisfaction as she took and took and took until she lost her voice, hoarse from crying out, completely disheveled from their primitive, atavistic lovemaking.

  “I love you,” he crooned in her ear, licking the vulnerable spot beneath her lobe. “I love you and the boy. I am so sorry you ever doubted me.”

  Kara began to cry, great fat tears pregnant with promise. “I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

  “You gave me the greatest gift anyone could give me, Kara. A son. A healthy, well-loved son.”

  “Oh!” she gasped, smiling through her contrite expression, her face changing. Kara traced his brow, running her fingers along the bones of his eyes, down his cheek, ending at the chin dimple he had clearly passed on to Jamie. “Thank you.”

  He knew what she meant. “You’ve protected him. Enveloped him with unconditional love. It shows.”

  Tears began to stain the bedsheets, the dark spots growing larger as Kara cried without sound. “Yes. It’s been my greatest mission in life.”

  “Mission accomplished. But now it’s my turn.”

  “Your turn?”

  “To make sure you both have unconditional love from me. And that you never, ever have to worry about anything again. Not money, not a place to live, not time. I want you to raise my children with me, Kara. Together.”

  “Child—ren?” she asked, the second syllable a squeak.

  “In time, yes. In time.” He rolled off her, and she snuggled against him, trusting and warm. As it should be.

  “This is a lot. So fast. So soon.”

  “Is it?” He stroked her hair, loving the feel of it as it spilled over his bare chest. “It doesn’t feel sudden. It feels like we’ve lost too many years. Time is the only resource I cannot give to you and Jamie in abundance. Everything else is nearly infinite.”

  “You forgive me?” she asked in a small, shy voice. “I really thought your mother would take him from me.”

  “Shhhh. What’s done is done. What matters now is our future, together. Will you let me take care of you? I owe it to you.”

  “Owe?” She sat up in alarm. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m not here for money or—”

  “I owe you a deep debt, Kara.”

  “What?”

  “Of gratitude. It’s my turn to take care of Jamie. And you. And Nana. Let me pay you that debt.”

  “That’s not how this works,” she said with a choked laugh.

  “If I simply said I wanted to lavish you and our son with all the riches of the world, would you accept?”

  “No.”

  “Then let me do it as a thank-you for your good parenting. It’s time for you to rest. To relax. To be nothing but my One and Jamie’s mother.”

  “Your One?”

  He took her hand and put it over his heart.

  And then, without saying a word, he closed his eyes.

  You can hear me? He asked without using his words.

  Yes, she replied, clear as a bell.

  We’re together, he continued. Your Beat is mine. Your love is mine. And my love is yours. All yours.

  Our love, she replied.

  He kissed her then, a long, slow ritual of promise and fate.

  And then he stood, walking across the room naked, reaching for the drawers full of clothes.

  “Speaking of our love,” he said to her as she stood and joined him, “let’s get dressed and find Jamie.”

  “He’s sleeping,” she said, puzzled. “Jess and Molly told us they’d come if he wakes. That we could,” she added with a giggle, “talk, then come and find him with them.”

  “I know,” Lars said, love overflowing inside him. “But I want to look at him. See him. Watch him sleep.”

  Kara’s arms encircled his waist as she pulled him into an embrace. “I completely understand,” she whispered.

  He threaded his fingers in hers and squeezed, pulling her toward the door.

  “Let’s go.”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  The Mediterranean was stunning, but nothing could compete with Lars’ eyes. Kara turned her camera away from the famously beautiful sea to snap yet another picture of her husband. He reclined next to her on the beach, wearing only a pair of white swim shorts that set off his tanned skin, his muscled physique, and those gorgeous blue eyes. By now she had quite a portfolio of photographs of him—in Greece, Boston, Tuscany, Tokyo, California, Patagonia, Belize… They’d traveled the world, learning about each other, intertwining their lives, deepening their love.

  She adjusted her hat, an enormous white floppy thing Lars had bought her at a market in Athens, and stretched out her legs into the white sand. One year ago today, they’d come to this private Greek island for their honeymoon. Now they were celebrating their first anniversary and—

  Well, he didn’t know about that yet.

  Like last year, Nana stayed with Jamie in their new Boston penthouse and video chatted with them several times a day. A year ago, Jamie had been new to his tiger form and shifted constantly, usually for their calls. These days, however,
as a big three year old, he only shifted when he was in trouble and wanted to hide.

  Today Kara was the one hiding something. She’d buried a small present inside the picnic blanket, and she was trying to decide when to share it with him. After they ate the fabulous Greek cuisine packed for them at the five-star restaurant or before? He was about to uncork the wine, and he might notice—

  The hot sun felt so good, but it was making her thirsty. She opened the picnic basket, checked on her hidden package at the bottom, and took out a bottle of chilled mineral water.

  “Got you,” he said, setting aside his own phone.

  She laughed and wiped her lips. “I told you, please don’t take pictures of me without warning me first! You always catch me at the most unflattering moment.”

  “There is no such thing,” he said. “You are always beautiful. Always.”

  “Just wait until you see—” Even he couldn’t think she was beautiful when she was puking her guts out. Oh Lord, she was so bad at keeping a secret. She had to tell him now.

  “Lars?”

  “Kara, my love?” Smiling, he reached into the picnic basket.

  She lurched forward and grabbed his arm. “Wait!”

  His eyebrow arched. “Can’t keep your hands off me, can you darling?” He caught her wrist and pulled her across the blanket into his lap. Strong, curious hands slid under the flimsy bottom of her swimsuit. His fingers began caressing, exploring.

  “Mm,” she said, forgetting everything except the feel of his hands. She nuzzled his neck, dropping kisses along his throat, not minding the sand that stuck to her tongue. Because the island was private, they were able to shift and roam together, a wonderful treat after the past month in Boston, but she would always prefer being together like this. In their human form they could talk, laugh, and sing together; they could go to the park with Jamie; they could take pictures and sail and snorkel; they could make love.

  Several times a day, on occasion.

  Like now… So many advantages to a private beach…

  “You were saying something?” he asked. He’d been nibbling on her left nipple through the stretchy fabric of her bikini, teasing it to a hard point.