Seduced by a Cajun Werewolf

by Seduced By a Cajun Werewolf [MF] (v5. 0) (epub)

  She remained silent as the wind picked up, driving the rain into his skin like BB pellets. She seemed unaffected by the sharp, stinging sensation. Her face remained placid, as if she'd done this, had stood in front of a man ready to carry out his death, a thousand times.

  Perhaps she had.

  “Well, Violet, I have nothing left to live for.” He knelt in front of her, wondering if she'd go through with it. Perhaps he should call his brother and cousins. But he did not want them to think him a coward. Resigned, yes.

  With that little piece of hope inside him dead, he had nothing left on which to cling. Everything—his life, their future, was in her hands.

  Chapter Five

  Laurent stared up into Cayenne’s beautiful face. She blinked raindrops from her lashes and raised the sword.

  “If you'd like to know who you are—” His words stopped her. “All you have to do is take my blood. All my memories of you are there. Of your childhood. The day you disappeared.”

  “Damn it, get up and fight like a man!”

  “I have nothing left to fight for, sweetheart.” He stared at her for a long moment, a resigned look in his eye. Then he gave her a lopsided smile. “Will you do me a favor?”

  “What?” She bit out the word, almost shouted it.

  “Smile.”

  “I—” She frowned.

  He raised his eyebrows and sat back on his heels.

  “I don't smile.”

  “Should I tickle you?” he asked. Thunder drowned out his voice.

  How could he have a sense of humor at a time like this? Cayenne squared her shoulders and tried not to shiver in the cool rain.

  Her resolve weakened. He was unlike anyone she'd ever met.

  “Why is it so important to you?”

  And for the first time she could remember, looking down at his handsome, water drenched face, she wanted to smile. If for no other reason, than because he was an interesting and unexpected adversary.

  At some point in their battle he’d busted his lip. The wind changed, driving the rain at him. The small trickle of blood washed down his chin. He was so handsome. So…male. Proud. Even looking death in the eye.

  “I’m a simple man, with simple desires. The one thing I wanted above all others was you.

  “You were everything to me. A balm to my soul. A lighthouse in a stormy sea.” His gaze was far off as he spoke. “Your smile quieted the beast threatening to take over. You were the one person in the world not pushing me to do what they wanted. What was expected.

  “I would have done anything to make you laugh.” He smiled, as if remembering her laughter. “I was besotted by a beautiful young woman who put everything into perspective. And I lost her.”

  His gaze met hers. “I lost you.”

  She bit her bottom lip, trying to remain emotionless.

  “My happiness was stolen from me and along with it my dreams and my simple pleasures. Just as your happiness was stolen from you.”

  Something she'd never felt before filled her. Something unwelcome. All her life, she'd trained to be strong. To live in the moment. Always moving forward, never dwelling on the past. But she could remember the faces of every person she'd ever killed. Was Laurent right? Why hadn’t she killed him when she’d had the opportunity? Was she losing her edge?

  Another bolt of lightning crackled across the sky, and the wind shifted. He grinned at her. If she were the type to swoon, he'd have her falling at his feet.

  “Do you always take this long to kill people?”

  “Smart ass,” she said.

  The corner of his handsome mouth twitched, and something deep inside her stirred. She recognized the desire warring with her pity for killing this man. But she had no choice. It was the job she was hired to do. She didn't fail. She was trained not to fail.

  “How much are you getting paid to kill me?”

  “Why? Are you going to offer me double?” This was the point when most of the evil men she'd killed bargained for their lives. She'd heard it all before. Money? How much? A car? Any kind she wanted. Houses on the four corners of the earth. Jewelry most women wouldn't dream of owning. Titles. Stocks. Dogs. Horses. Anything she wanted, if only she'd spare their lives. But the one thing she truly wanted, none of them could give.

  “No.” Laurent's voice was firm. Calm. Resigned. So he really didn't fear death. How odd. She was sure that once upon a time, before she’d become…this, she would’ve been terrified of finding herself at death’s door. But now she walked in eternal, forsaken darkness. Unable to die a normal death or live a normal life. Unable to remember her past, before she'd become this machine. Unable to feel...

  No. That was no longer true. She did feel. She experienced something when she looked into Laurent’s face. Something she didn’t dare name.

  “Seriously. I have no desire to fight you. I never had any desire to fight. But I was good at it. I’ve handled too many weapons. Taken too many lives. When all I wanted was to end my own. So…” He pegged her with a gaze so intense she felt it all the way to her toes. “If you say you are not Violet and you’re willing to dispatch my life, I’m ready to join her.

  “My life is in your hands.”

  A full second ticked by and then her body took over as if it had a mind of its own. Her hand opened and the sword fell through the air and clattered against the concrete. She dropped to her knees in front of him, watching the trail of blood running from his lip.

  Unsure of herself but driven by the need to touch him, she slid her hands over his corded biceps and up to his shoulders. He felt like rock covered in skin. Perfectly sculpted. Her gaze locked with his, and she saw questions there. But he remained silent.

  Wordlessly, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. Once, twice. She explored him slowly, watching him watch her as she did so. He didn't blink. She wasn't even sure he was still breathing.

  At the corner of his mouth, her tongue snaked out and licked the cut.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and clamped his arms around her waist. He didn't know his own strength as he crushed her to him. Even though her bones groaned in protest, he obviously realized she wasn't a tender little thing who needed to be handled gently. And although she knew she shouldn't enjoy the feel of his arms around her, she did.

  Before she knew it was happening, he'd pulled her down on top of him. He slid his tongue inside her mouth, and his hands roamed her back.

  Her eyes drifted closed, and she kissed him back like she'd always dreamed of kissing him. He was just as hot and hard as she'd imagined he would be. But there was a gentleness in him too, one she hadn't expected and couldn't explain.

  Their mouths met and mated, over and over. The rain threatened to drown them. He nipped at her lips, teasing and coaxing her. How was she going to find the strength to pull away?

  “Don't,” he said, quickly switching their positions.

  Her shoulder blades connected with cold, hard concrete, and she gasped. He snagged the fabric of her bra and ripped it away. When he looked down at her, awe filled his face. He slid his hands over her ribcage, the water slickening her skin, providing no resistance.

  He cupped her breasts, his heat chasing away the chill that invaded her body, and she lost her will to fight. Gently, he kneaded her flesh. His face softened as he touched her. She sighed as his fingers brushed over her hardened nipples. Silently, she willed him to play with them. To bring her the pleasure he’d brought her in her dreams.

  He stared straight into her eyes and flicked his thumbs back and forth, teasing her pebbled peaks.

  A moan of ecstasy slid past her lips as he leaned down and took one of the aching peaks into his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him to her.

  His teeth nibbled the tender flesh, and she hissed out a breath. He laved her skin with his tongue, then took hold of her with gentle suction. Pleasure radiated through her, and she desperately wanted more.

  He chuckled when that single thought escaped her lips. But like
a good wolf, he moved to her other breast and lavished his attention on it.

  She writhed beneath him, needing more.

  Needing him.

  The realization hit her like a door slamming in her face. She needed him. Wanted to feel him inside her. Needed to be one with this man.

  Now.

  She shouldn't want him, shouldn’t need him. She shouldn't have this delicious ache between her legs, which only he could ease. But that didn't stop her.

  “Why aren't you naked yet?” she demanded, trying to sound her sassiest even though she was petrified he'd notice the change in her.

  “Do you want me naked?” he teased. The vibration of his voice hit the tender peak like a lightning bolt and zinged straight to her core.

  “Yes. Now.” She arched her back and pressed herself against him.

  A rich laughter rumbled from him an instant before he pulled away and shrugged out of his wet shirt. Then, with a naughty gleam in his eyes, shucked his jeans. She’d seen his hard muscled thighs in her dreams. But nothing could have prepared her for the glory of his cock. Long, thick, and as hard as a steal pipe.

  He knelt between her legs and gave her panties a disapproving look before hooking his thumbs under them and tearing the flimsy garment from her body. His movements were quick, urgent.

  “That's better,” he said darkly.

  Then he was on her, his arms bracketed around her, holding his weight. He nestled his hard length between her legs, and she immediately wrapped them around his hips. She was so ready for this. It was the oddest feeling. Like she'd been waiting for this forever.

  “Hurry.”

  “Can't rush progress, sweetheart.”

  “Fuck me, already.”

  He stilled above her, shock filling his eyes. Then he shifted his weight and reached between them. She kissed his neck and shoulders, her hands urging him on. He tested her wetness, and her hips jerked.

  “Inside me. Now!”

  “You’re a bossy little thing,” he said, pulling his hand back. She rocked against him, trying to wrap herself around him.

  She couldn't tell him about the crazy, mind bending need that now claimed her. About the dreams that left her breathless and wanting. “No. I’m a horny little thing.”

  His lips found hers and she kissed him roughly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His tongue speared into her mouth, and he pushed his cock home. He was big and thick. The tiniest hint of pain pricked her as her body stretched to accommodate him. But she loved the feeling. It was real. True. For the first time in a very long time, she felt alive.

  Just what she'd feared —and had prayed would happen.

  A perfect fit. Laurent had always known it would be the case between him and Violet. Deep down, he'd always known they were created for each other. With her, he was sure he could have made a life, enjoyed his life. Or at least, the time he'd been given. After she'd disappeared...

  No, he wouldn't think about it. She was here now. Squirming beneath him. Thrusting her hips against his.

  She scratched his back and urged him on with breathy little words in French. He braced his arms around her slender frame and made love to her in earnest. Silently, he stared into her brilliant blue eyes. Eyes he'd missed so much. He let his body say the words.

  Then he asked, “Am I hurting you?”

  “No!” she cried, tightening her legs around his back. “Keep going.”

  “Gladly, petite.” He couldn’t stop now. He thrust into her tight little glove until she came apart beneath him. Her screams filled his ears. She tightened her arms and legs around him, and her sheath gripped his cock, giving it one hell of a massage.

  He couldn't hold back. Didn't want to. So he let himself go and groaned in her ear as he came. He relished the feel of her body as it went from tight-as-a-bow to soft-and-spent.

  He lay there for a few moments, savoring the bliss. Memorizing the feel of her. Savoring her scent.

  “Thank the gods,” she murmured, nestling her cheek against his.

  “Enjoy yourself?” The smug part of him wanted her to tell him how fabulous she thought he was, how wonderful she felt. After everything between them, both new and old, he wanted her resistance gone.

  “Very much.” She sounded sated and sleepy. That worked for him. He wouldn't mind spending the rest of the night on top of her and having her wrapped around him.

  Slowly, however, against his cock's wishes, he pulled out of her body and stared down at the beautiful woman lying in the rain. She was strong, sure, and sexy as hell.

  She gave him a sultry smile that made his cock twitch.

  Feeling decidedly possessive, he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. He wanted to dry her off, but she reached into the shower and turned on the water.

  “Next, I suppose you'll want me to soap your back,” he said as he nuzzled her neck. She made no move to get out of his arms. In fact, her body seemed almost relaxed.

  “Or something else.”

  “Are you flirting with me, little vamp?” His wolf howled with happiness.

  “Could be.”

  He stepped into the shower and slowly let her down to stand on her own two feet. Warm water cascaded over them, and she pressed herself against him from shoulder to knee.

  “I've never done it in a shower before.”

  Her words made him hard again in a heartbeat. She reached between them and wrapped her hand around his dick.

  I’m right, he thought, as he let himself be seduced. A perfect fit.

  Chapter Six

  Cayenne woke with a burning pain in her chest. She clutched a hand over her heart and sat up in bed. Outside, the rain had stopped and darkness held the city in its clutches. She glanced down and saw a tattoo-like mark peeking through her fingers. Fearing the worst she lifted her hand. Three linked circles. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she was dreaming.

  Okay, don’t panic. Right. Easier said than done. She dared another look. Still there. Definitely not dreaming. She sucked in a shuddering breath.

  This was not good. How had she let herself be seduced by him? Glancing over her shoulder she stared at the handsome sleep tousled man next to her and had her answer. Sexy laugh lines bracketed his handsome mouth. She nibbled her bottom lip to keep from leaning over and planting her lips against his. No. This was definitely not good.

  He looked so peaceful there against the satiny-soft sheets. Too peaceful. Too perfect. Perfect for her.

  Frustrated, she slipped from the bed. What the hell had she been thinking? He was…no…is the target!

  Where was her bra? She spotted the remaining shreds of fabric lying in a soggy heap on the balcony.

  Failure was not an option. That singular thought had been engrained in her. So what had she been thinking?

  How had she allowed herself to be seduced by a Cajun werewolf?

  She’d had the chance to do her job but she’d been the one to drop her sword and kneel before him. She’d own that the fault was her own. But somehow…it didn’t feel like a fault. Not when she’d been in his arms, kissing his lips.

  For just a moment she’d been Cayenne the woman, not Cayenne the assassin. For but a moment she’d been able to glimpse a different future. One where she had a handsome, spine-tingling man in her life who murmured endearments and pleasured her until she couldn’t walk.

  Longing filled her as she bent to retrieve fresh clothes. Over the years she’d wondered what it would be like to live a normal life. But she never allowed herself to dwell on those thoughts for long. Until she’d earned back her freedom from Madame, there was no point in daydreaming about the future.

  The sun would be up soon and if she hurried she could make her escape before Laurent even knew she was gone. And once she was on the road, with plenty of distance between them, she’d figure out what to tell Madame about her failure. Just thinking the word left a sour taste in her mouth. She’d never failed before. Maybe she could lie and say the job was done. Who would know
?

  Besides the client.

  Okay, so she wouldn’t return to Madame at all. She was one job away from completion and therefore her contract wasn’t exactly fulfilled, but hadn’t she done enough?

  Cayenne looked out at the city. Ninety-nine good kills. Did she have the courage to just walk away? Disappear? Go rogue?

  She sneered at herself, despising her weakness and self doubt. Cayenne Laroque was a master assassin not a pawn on someone else’s chess board. She shouldn’t have to answer to anyone. Why had it taken her so long to figure that out?

  Why had she held on to that misguided sense of loyalty? Why had it taken meeting Laurent before she’d been willing to change?

  Cayenne smiled, mind made up. Peace washed over her. She could make it on her own. Set her own fees. Take jobs she believed in. Take control of her destiny. Of course, she’d be on the run but--

  A knock at the door disturbed the quiet and her runaway thoughts. She reached for her dagger and sent up a mind block to protect herself from whomever waited on the other side. After slipping a tank top over her head, she closed the bedroom door behind her. Measured steps carried her across the small living area, and she took up a defensive position as she cracked open the front door.

  Emil.

  How had he found her again? She pursed her lips together to keep from sneering.

  “Cayenne, my dear, I heard of your latest conquest. Is the job done?” How had he heard? Contracts we’re supposed to be private.

  She studied him closely. His jet black hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled features made women fall at his feet. But she would never trust a man more beautiful than she.

  Hardly anything was handsome about him to her now. He was tall and lean, with features so refined they were sharp. His cheeks were hollow…just like his soul. And his eyes, as lively as death warmed over.

  Today, he was dressed in an edgy suit of charcoal gray. His shirt and tie were the same color as his jacket, and she wondered briefly what it would take to put a scar on his pretty face.

  But vampires didn't scar. They fought, they bled, and they healed. But they never scarred. Unless one counted the scars on the inside. Not that she had anything left on the inside that would ever need healing.