He paused and kneed her thighs wider. The arm beneath her belly slid away, but then pads scraped her clitoris.
DiDi moaned. Too much!
This is the moment, chatte. Mine forever. He thrust deep twice more, and warmth spilled inside her. His pad rubbed her clit as he continued to rock against her, spurt after spurt of semen filling her womb.
He was gifting her with so much more than his children. Mason was the destination she hadn’t known she was traveling toward. He was her destiny.
With that realization, she came, tears streaking her cheeks.
*
DiDi typed The End and closed the lid of her laptop. Her editor would be pleased. Another of her werebears in Wyoming stories was ready for production. She pushed up from her desk and walked across her attic office floor to peer out at the edge of the forest. Soon, Mason and her three sons would return, and they’d be ready to eat. Not yet old enough to control their shifts, they hungered for the safety of the forest. They played wild and unfettered, watched by their ever-vigilant father. As they burst through the brush into the clearing, she felt a pang of deep satisfaction. This was her life. Her family.
Mason’s face angled upward. His gaze caught hers. Hello, wife.
She gave him a wave. Hello, husband. Her gaze went to her dark-haired sons. Their fishing poles rested on their shoulders, and they were covered from head to toe in dirt. They looked tired, but they walked with the same proud assurance of their father. They’d brought home dinner. Be sure they strip in the mudroom.
He gave her a salute and said something to the boys that had them giggling. Then they disappeared from sight, the sounds of their footsteps on the porch, then trailing through the house, something she treasured.
So much had changed since she’d first arrived in Bayou Noir eight years ago. Sure, her publishing career was still going strong, but she no longer entered the promotional fray. No book tours, no interviews. Tabloids said she’d become a recluse since her marriage. DiDi didn’t care what the rest of the world thought. She was where she belonged.
Her aunt had deeded her much more than a house. With the paintings still standing on easels in the gray light, DiDi could imagine Auntie Ondine smiling down at the cats at dusk, staring up at her window while she laid her plot to draw her niece to this little backwoods community.
Had her aunt known she was lonely? Perhaps she’d read between the lines of all her books DiDi had found amid the clutter—everything she’d ever published. Or perhaps, her artist’s soul had known DiDi would be too enthralled with what she discovered here to ever want to leave. Either way, she owed the woman everything.
Her office door creaked open, but she held still, savoring the anticipation. As large hands curved over her hips, she sighed and leaned back against a strong chest.
Mason laid a kiss on her cheek. “The boys are eating PBJ in the kitchen. I locked the door.”
DiDi turned inside his embrace and tilted back her head. He smelled like sunshine. “How fast are you planning to be?”
“This is just a little somet’in-somet’in’ ’til they go down for the night.”
She loved the way his accent deepened when he was feeling horny.
He quickly unbuttoned her blouse and pushed down her shorts. Then he turned her. “Brace against the window ledge,” he growled, accompanied by the scratch of a zipper lowering.
DiDi bent, wishing she could widen her stance, but her shorts kept her thighs cinched together.
Which didn’t appear to be a problem for Mason. His cock nudged her sex, then he pumped in shallow thrusts until she was wet, and he was lodged deep.
He brought an arm around her and grasped a lush breast, his fingers tweaking the tip. The other hand slid down her belly until one wicked finger slipped into the top of her tightened folds.
DiDi grunted and drew a harsh breath. Fast was good.
I heard that.
As he held her tightly, restricting her movements, she relaxed, knowing he’d see to her pleasure. His fingers plucked and stroked, his cock slid deep and true. And as dusk settled outside, she moved to gaze toward the forest at the edge of the lawn.
Movement shifted the bushes. Cats coming out to play. Old and young. As soon as her sons finished their snack, they’d be out there, deepening their ties with the clan. Sometimes, she envied their ability to shed their human skin. Then she reminded herself just how lucky she was to witness the miracle every day, to share her life with a man who put his family first, who loved her without reservation.
Hands jerked down her shorts the rest of the way, and she quickly widened her stance, holding tight to the wooden ledge as Mason’s strokes grew more powerful. When her entire body jolted with each thrust, she tossed back her hair, her signal she was getting close, that he could let loose.
In an instant, down rubbed her skin, and his cock thickened. Teeth gripping her shoulder tethered her while he continued to pound. Her orgasm bloomed. Her inner walls rippled. Her cries grew choppy and edged with sobs. This pleasure was heaven, and she prayed they both lived into their old age, because she never wanted this connection to end. She wanted to experience growing old with him, wanted to see her boys settled with pretty wives and cubs of their own.
Blinking open her eyes, she noted the silvery orb above, ebbing toward another full moon. One she and Mason hoped would expand their family. They were ready. Blessed in ways she’d never imagined. When he cried out, he hugged her against him, jerking inside her until they both swayed together, content, fulfilled.
Another kiss nuzzled her cheek. “I better go make sure they aren’t gutting the fish themselves.”
Catching her breath, she laughed. “I’ll be right down.” When he left, she hugged herself and turned in a giddy little circle, enjoying the air against her naked skin and the moonlight gleaming through the window.
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred-fifty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.
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If you loved Bad Moon Rising, check out my Night Fall series!
Sm{B}itten
Love Bites!
Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!
Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not human.
Truly, Madly…Deadly
Just this once…
On the trail of a serial killer, vampire Quentin Albermarle is mistaken for the killer by a police special task force. Once the smoke clears, Quentin finds himself in a delicious position—atop one of the unit’s crack
officers, Darcy Henry. In need of Quentin’s access to the vampire sub-culture, the task force leadership invites Quentin to join the crime unit as a special advisor, much to the chagrin of the men in the unit, and especially, of Darcy.
Caught between opposing forces, vampire and hunter…
A no-nonsense cop with no time for romance, Darcy suddenly finds herself embroiled in a steamy love triangle between her mortal partner, Joe, and the handsome vampire. Going from abstinence to wantonness, she is unable to resist the two men’s relentless seduction or her own sensual curiosity about a vampire’s special “kiss”.
A hunger like no other…
When the real killer threatens the life of someone close to her, Darcy makes a choice that forever binds the three of them together.
Knight in Transition
A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia’s life is turned upside down when he’s transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, Joe’s search brings him to New Orleans in a last-ditch effort to recover his humanity.
Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a condition of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she’s thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.
Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe’s cop instincts tell him there’s a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask.
While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily’s life is forever altered by an unexpected inheritance.
Wolf in Plain Sight
To Super-cop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he’s had to suppress his natural hatred to work side by side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit’s hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires who don’t care whether humans get in their way.
When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren whose sexual appetites match his own.
Vampire Pia D’Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max—either by seduction or turning him. He’s become a liability to the Masters’ Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she’s not leaving until she’s done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for with a deadly secret of his own.
Knight Edition
Sidney Coffey, Seattle’s “News at Nine” girl, uncovers the scoop of a lifetime and her ticket into serious journalism. The only problem is—without proof—no one’s going to believe the victims of recent gang killings are in fact “undead” and vampires!
With her gut telling her there’s an even bigger story lurking beneath the surface, she decides to beard a reclusive vampire master in his den for an interview. But meeting the master only complicates things. For a woman with a voracious sexual appetite, the tall, dark and gloomy vamp proves an irresistible challenge.
When a reporter trespasses on his estate, Navarro is at first amused then annoyed that the little baggage is close to putting together the pieces of a dangerous plot involving an old enemy and a group of murdered geneticists. To keep her safe, Navarro issues an invitation he won’t let her refuse.
Night Fall on Dark Mountain
After the death of one of the members of the super-secret police unit aligned with the Vampire Council in southern Florida, werewolf Max Weir becomes the chief suspect. Sure a greater villain has used a were-clan’s hatred of vamps to strike against the unit, Max travels to the mountains of North Carolina to seek the truth and hopefully renew the centuries-old truce between the weres and vampires.
Alec Weir has a problem on his hands. The new sheriff on Dark Mountain must walk a fine line between upholding were-clan laws and saving his vamp-loving brother from certain death. Alec must find the traitor in the clan responsible for the attack on the vampires or watch his brother die. If that wasn’t enough, his chosen mate, Stasia McGwyre, seems to still hold a candle for Max.
Silent is the Knight
In the aftermath of a terrible hurricane, Noelle Moyaux questions her gift of sight until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger sets her on a path to save his soul.
Magnus Thornton is a millennium-old vampire who has found evidence of an old foe’s evil at work in the demolished city of New Orleans. Weary of the fight, he decides to greet the coming dawn after a night reveling in his favorite indulgences—a bottle of wine and a willing woman.
What starts as a night of sensual delights ends in a revelation of mutual discovery when Noelle quickly creeps into his heart. The ancient vampire, so jaded from life he never speaks, must now persuade her to flee the city before it’s too late.
Excerpt from Night Fall on Dark Mountain…
The wolf rushed through the open door, into the darkened room beyond, his claws clattering on the tiled floor.
Woman! Mate! He had to find her.
Following wolf scent and the musty odor of blood, he sped through the room and up the curved staircase toward the light beckoning at the top.
Heedless of any danger, the wolf charged upward, stretching his limbs to leap several steps at a time in his desperation to find her—the slim, dark-haired one.
At the top of the stairs, the wolf came to a halt, hackles rising on his shoulders and back at the smell of blood—wolf blood. Bodies stretched on the floor before him, blood soaking the carpet beneath his paws. But what gave the animal pause were the looming, growling figures that faced him, standing above the corpses.
Enemy! Danger breathed in their combined rage.
The wolf started forward, first left then right, retreat being impossible because the dark-haired woman was nearby and sobbing. The sounds of her harsh cries brought up a howl that echoed in the narrow hallway.
The wolf heard the sounds the men made, harsh and loud, echoing in the hallway, but didn’t comprehend, only recognized the hatred tightening the voice of the nearest man-like creature.
Another sob drew his attention, just as the nearest foe leapt, wrapping powerful arms around the wolf’s throat—so tight he couldn’t breathe. He wriggled and jerked, gnashing teeth, but the man held fast to the wolf while another drew a shining rope over his muzzle.
Another spate of harsh sounds and a moment later, a jolt knocked the breath from his body and brought the wolf to his haunches, leaving him quivering in the aftermath. Still, he fought to stand.
Another jolt, this time searing in its ferocity left the wolf powerless, his tongue lolling from between his jaws. Blackness encroached, and in the moment before he surrendered, the wolf knew himself trapped.
*
Max Weir awoke slowly, every muscle in his body aching. He rolled from his back onto his knees and rested his forehead on the floor for a moment to recover from the change of equilibrium, shocked his whole body trembled from the effort.
Something had kicked the shit out of him.
When he lifted his head to see, he felt a sharp tug and the bite of metal around his neck.
Instinct kicked in, and he roared, tucking in his head to lunge against the chain. When he failed to budge it, he reached deep inside for the strength to transform.
“Turn, and we’ll kill you where you sit.” The voice, soft and deadly, and with slight European inflections, was one he didn’t recognize. But Max did recognize the steel beneath the words and resisted the primal urge to let loose his inner beast on his captors.
Still woozy and struggling to regain his full intellect, Max shook his head experimentally and realized it wasn’t one leash, but two, pulling in opposite directions to keep him lowered to the floor.
A sideways glance revealed Dylan and Joe held the ends of his chains wrapped around their fists, their expressions set and lethal. His gut twisted, betrayal tasting bitter after all he’d done to keep his spot on the Special Unit following the revelation of his true, were nature.
Max’s lips curled, baring his teeth. Show the bastards the feral beast.
“I’ve no patience for posturing.”
Again, that damnable voice. Max slowly lifted his head to stare at the vamp who could only be Navarro, the Master from the Northwest Council.
He sat in a chair facing Max. His dark sloe eyes narrowed as he stared.
“Why am I chained?” Max asked, not surprised to find his voice hoarse, his throat raw. He recalled a struggle and choking.
“The more appropriate question would be why are you still living?” Navarro asked, no hint of his thoughts in his even tone.
Unable to glance around, Max sniffed to determine if others watched, but found no more nearby scents. Only the odor of death, overlaid with the musk of several wolves. Somewhere distant in the house. “They got inside the compound?”
“Don’t give me a ration of shit, were,” Joe shouted, jerking on his chain.
“You knew they were close?” Dylan asked from the end of his chain, his voice soft, but menacing.
Max gritted his teeth, fighting for breath as the metal constricted around his throat. “I caught their scent and followed them—outside the gate.”
“Why didn’t you radio to the others and sound the alert?” Joe jerked the chain again.
Bad Moon Rising Page 9
