Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  Was it her fault though really? Her body ached and she was feeling all out of sorts. But what could be hotter than that? Sigh.

  To her surprise, Foster had really meant it when he’d said he wasn’t leaving. While she’d answered a few of her clients’ emails and sent out some invoices, he’d called the Dark Moon Falls Pack Alpha as promised and he’d made arrangements.

  “Elias is sending Levi by with a few of his Hunters. They’re going to take a look around the area, catch the Wolf’s scent to see if they recognize it,” he’d said and pressed another one of his intoxicating kisses to her lips.

  Damn the man could kiss. Being married hadn’t changed the fact that Lydia was no more experienced than she’d been as a twenty-year-old. Mac’s idea of intimacy was harsh and cruel. To say the least, it left plenty to be desired.

  Before him, she’d been too busy working and going to school to worry about boys. She’d been shy and young. So green it hurt to think about it. She’d been so busy running from Mac and taking care of Skylar she hadn’t had the opportunity to consider her own wants and needs.

  Not that she would trade her daughter for anything, but maybe it was okay to want something for herself. Maybe it was time.

  Her cheeks burned as she thought of things she hadn’t considered in, well, ever really. Foster was just the type of guy who incited passion in a woman. His chiseled face was made even more handsome by that scruffy shadow of a beard she just loved.

  Steel-colored eyes glittered at her whenever she turned to him for a word or just to sneak a peek. He seemed to enjoy looking at her too. Something she found kind of astonishing with her too round hips, soft belly, and overly large breasts.

  Having a baby changed her in physical ways she hadn’t expected, but it wasn’t like she had the time or money to hire a trainer or personal chef. It didn’t matter, he seemed to enjoy her extra pounds when they’d been cuddled on her floor a few hours ago. Her face felt even hotter as she recalled the make-out session. Lydia had never done anything like that.

  She could tell he’d been trying to hold back too. He was so intense already it damn near scared her to imagine him with all his potency unleashed on her. Okay maybe not scared, maybe she was just really, really anxious to find out for herself. She’d probably orgasm without him even touching her.

  If only.

  “Shit,” Lydia cursed softly. Boiling water jumped out of the pot and splashed onto her hands while she drained the potatoes and string beans.

  “That’s what you get for daydreaming about sexy men,” she said under her breath.

  “I hope you’re daydreaming about one sexy man in particular,” said a voice from behind her and she jumped up, startled.

  “You scared me,” she laughed as Foster took over the straining and dumped the veggies into the mixing bowl she had waiting.

  “Let me finish it,” she said and added the mixture of crushed garlic, thinly sliced red onions, olive oil, red wine vinegar, oregano, salt and pepper to the dish. The resulting aroma was heavenly and even the man himself grumbled in approval.

  “That smells amazing,” he said and reached out to snag a string bean while she mixed the contents carefully so as not to smash the potatoes.

  “Thanks,” she replied.

  “Mommy! Is dinner ready yet?” Her little tornado rushed over with arms outstretched to her new favorite person and Lydia’s heart squeezed in her chest.

  Her daughter had always been distant with men, but not with him. Foster swung her up in his arms as if he’d always been doing it and she felt tears prick her eyes. He was a good man despite his past and he’d be a great father.

  So many people who were dealt an unfair hand seemed to think of it as an excuse to do bad. Isn’t that what Mac did? Lydia believed in hard work and judging others by their deeds as opposed to their words. She was glad she’d trusted her gut. Glad that Foster proved patient and steadfast.

  If only she could keep him. She just wasn’t sure if she could really believe him. His certainty that she was his mate humbled her like nothing ever had. Mac was the only man who’d ever pursued her and that had ended in disaster.

  Could she trust this man? Trust him with her heart as well as her baby girl? As if he could tell what she was thinking, he bent his head and kissed her cheek while tickling Skylar with the other hand.

  “Come on we gotta let Mommy cook or we’ll never eat,” the little girl said and grabbed his pinky dragging him inside.

  After dinner the trio set up camp in the living room with an old family movie. Lydia made popcorn and Foster propped up some cushions and a comforter to make a fort.

  “It’s like we’re camping, Mommy!” Skylar squealed and sank between the two adults munching on her snack and oblivious to the subtle undertones between them.

  It was going to be a long movie. Lydia settled in and sighed, almost jumping when Foster reached around Skylar and tucked her hand in his.

  The simple gesture warmed her heart like few things ever had. She looked at his profile and felt as if this really was the start of something profound.

  I hope so, she finally admitted to herself, I truly do.

  Chapter Nine

  Foster stretched under the cool spray of water as he rushed through his morning shower. He’d been staying at Lydia’s for a week now and they were still no closer to identifying the strange Wolf who’d given her such a scare.

  After meeting with Elias and Levi, he’d begun to worry more and more. It seemed the Wolf was still in the area though he was careful to keep moving around so as not to get caught.

  Damn frustrating. He wanted to catch and question the sonavabitch. Wanted to know if it was the same bastard who’d hurt his mate. Rage filled him at the thought. No one touched what was his. Ever. And his little family was growing more and more important to him, he realized with a smile.

  He liked having a little girl. Skylar was such a fun loving pup. The thought of anyone or anything ever harming her made his blood boil. Then there was her mama. Lydia was driving him crazy with those big blue eyes and wild curly hair. He found himself making excuses to touch her whenever she got near.

  And the kisses they shared? There weren’t words to describe the lightning fast way his body reacted to her. He was having a hell of a time keeping his arousal under wraps.

  His mate was sweet innocence, fierce independence, and sultry seduction wrapped up in one curvy, flowery scented bundle. The woman was a goddess as far as he was concerned. His Wolf pressed him to claim her and mark her every minute of the day. The animal was getting harder to ignore. Hence the cold showers.

  They’d just dropped Skylar off at school, then came home to work. It was damned convenient that she worked from home. Gave him the opportunity to continue his hunt for the real thieves of the gallery heist.

  Now that he was a family man, he wanted to clear his name even more than ever. They deserved the very best he could give and proving his innocence was pertinent to that end.

  He’d made more progress than before, even found the name of someone worth investigating. William Bryant, formerly of the Maicoh Pack out of Arizona, was just such a person. He was wanted for questioning in regard to several robberies along the Mexican border.

  Foster had started digging deeply through old articles for any mention of similar crimes. His hard work paid off when he found a clip about a robbery that took place in an occult shop in Arizona.

  The store had housed an ancient book believed to be an account of an infamous Hopi spirit walker. Further research revealed the book had ties to the artifacts that Foster had been imprisoned for stealing.

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he confirmed the book was among the items reported as stolen from the store. What were the odds that the two were unrelated?

  The artifacts taken from the gallery were ancient and believed to have hidden powers especially for Shifters, but they were only useful if you knew how to access those powers. Where could someone find that information
?

  How about in an ancient Hopi book?

  The deeper he looked the more confident he became that this Bryant person was responsible. From what his investigator had gathered from his social media, the man had two known associates.

  One was a younger Shifter, Patrick Donahue, who’s lifeless body had been found two months ago outside of Vegas after being shot by his then girlfriend when he tried to sneak out with her rent money. The third man was still unknown, but it appeared he was the brains of the trio.

  The photo he had of William Bryant was an old mugshot. It showed a thin, scraggly looking male with greasy black hair and a scar across his left cheek. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.

  Grrr. Thinking about the bastards that put him in Fangborn made his blood pressure rise. And not in a good way. He shrugged it off as he got out of the shower.

  Dark gray clouds gathered outside and Foster dried himself, tying the towel around his waist. The couch was not at all comfortable for his long frame, but that was where he’d been sleeping.

  He groaned and stretched his muscles before heading to Lydia’s bedroom to dress. She’d been on the phone with a client when he’d jumped in the shower, and he assumed she was still taking the call. Sometimes she could go a half hour without saying more than a few words. Far as he could tell, she listened to her clients’ financial problems and fixed them with a detailed budget best she could.

  It was damn inspiring. She saw a need and filled it. Simple as that. It was good, honest work and he admired her for it. Already his hands itched to sculpt her in a million different mediums. He would too.

  Someday. When he knew every nuance and curve, every dimple and freckle, every curl on her head the way he wanted to, the way a mate should.

  Not yet, he steadied himself as her scent hit him fresh in the face. It always did when he entered her room, but each time it felt new. He loved that hint of apple blossom fragrance, that touch of softness that was all her in the air around him. He dropped the towel to dress but stopped and turned at the sound of a soft gasp.

  Heat blurred his vision as he took in Lydia standing in the doorway with a bottle of water in her hand. Her large eyes were glued to that part of him that was currently standing up and begging for attention.

  “I, uh, I,” her mouth opened and closed as she tried to recall her purpose in entering the room.

  Foster stood up straight allowing her gaze to eat up every inch of him. He’d tried to go slow, but he wasn’t a saint. His heart thundered in his chest and he closed the distance between them with three large steps. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her flush against his body.

  “Your eyes were about to burn me up,” he whispered as he nibbled her lips.

  She dropped the bottle carelessly and wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with a desperation he wasn’t prepared for. The strength behind it nearly brought him to his knees. Foster groaned and pulled her closer still.

  “Too many clothes,” he said as he kissed and licked her lips, chin, neck, and earlobe.

  “Yes,” she agreed and let go of him long enough to undo the buttons of the ankle length sundress she’d put on that morning.

  It was a soft yellow color that reminded him of sunshine and daisies and would forevermore remind him of Lydia and her sweet submission. He carefully shooed her hands away, taking over as he undid buttons and peeled the soft fabric away from her smooth skin.

  Unwrapping her was better than any present he’d ever received. Christmas mornings and birthday parties all forgotten in the wake of her beauty. Her supple curves were dressed in lace trimmed cotton with tiny flowers across both bra and panties. Pale, soft limbs revealed to him under the glow of the lone floor lamp behind her, but he didn’t need more light. He could see just fine.

  Foster smiled at the wonder of this woman. She was so damn sexy in nothing fancier than simple prints and hundred percent soft serviceable fiber. He trembled with the force of his desire. He wanted her so much. All of her. Only her. For as long as he walked the Earth there would be nothing and no one for him but Lydia. Sweet, sweet Lydia.

  He pulled her gently towards the mattress and kissed away her worries and trepidations leaving nothing but the fire of mutual desire between them. And more. So much more.

  Lydia was his love, his mate, and he knew she felt something for him. It was in the way she watched him with those summer sky colored eyes of hers when she thought he wasn’t aware. That was a joke because he was always aware of her. She was everything to him.

  Foster groaned as her eager hands travelled over his body. He smoothed away her bra and panties, settling himself between her splayed legs as he continued to make love to her mouth with his lips and tongue.

  He swallowed her gasps and moans. Every noise a prize he was greedy to collect and savor. With long, sweeping motions he left no inch of her mouth untouched by his kiss.

  This was the start of his claiming. He would not stop until she and the whole damn world knew who she belonged to. Foster was determined to be everything to her as she was to him. Her home, her protector, her lover, her confidant, her friend, her mate in every sense of the word.

  “Mine,” he growled, swallowing her whimper and breathing in the strong, heady fragrance of her arousal.

  “Mine,” he said again.

  His hands roamed, learning her sweet, luscious curves, laying claim to every single inch of flesh underneath him. He just had to flex his hips a little to feel the sopping wet moisture of her hot slit. So tempting, but not yet. He dipped his head trailing kisses down her clavicle, scraping his teeth across one hard nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

  “Foster!” She screamed, pulling on his hair, but he was relentless. And he wasn’t done yet.

  Lydia bucked and moaned as he suckled one breast then the other. Giving the same lavish treatment to each deliciously plump mound. He kissed, nibbled, suckled, and tweaked until she was mindless. Still, he wanted more from her. He wanted everything.

  Everything she was. Everything she had. He wanted it all. And he wanted to give her everything he was in return. A mutual exchange. His heart for hers. His body for hers. His life forever entwined with hers.

  Yes. His Wolf growled his agreement. Mine.

  “Tell me to stop now or I won’t be able to,” he said praying silently that she wouldn’t say that dreaded word.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said, small hands grasping his hair as he slid down her smooth stomach to the apex of her thighs.

  “Then tell me who you belong to,” he demanded.

  “You. I belong to you,” she moaned.

  Foster spread her legs wide, holding her still when she would’ve covered up. He could never understand why a woman as lovely as this would ever want to hide herself. That would stop now.

  “You are beautiful, Lydia. Perfect,” he growled as he dipped his head to place one open-mouthed kiss onto her dripping wet sex. She tried to buck and gasped for air, but he would not allow her to move just yet.

  “So sweet, so mine,” he groaned as his tongue snaked out of his mouth and licked her from her forbidden hole to her slit, to that tiny bundle of nerves that made her gasp and cry out loud.

  “Foster, you can’t,” wild, lust-glazed baby blues met his eyes as he continued to lap at her core.

  “Yes, I can and I will, baby. Gonna kiss you, gonna lick, gonna eat you, gonna love you till you don’t know anything but me,” he growled the words, sounding more beast than man, but he couldn’t help it.

  His mate was splayed before him like a feast and he was starved for her. Foster ducked down and tasted her again. His ears swallowed her moans as his mouth took her to new and untold pleasures. Then he did it again and again until she was a writhing, mindless bundle of nerve-endings beneath the onslaught of his mouth.

  He’d never wanted someone like this. Never wanted to consume them wholly, to become one with them, mind, body, and soul. He knew his heart. Knew deep inside that she was his one
true and fated mate.

  That fact alone made this coming together more profound than anything he’d ever experienced. As an artist, his eye was trained to seek and find the beauty others missed. With Lydia, he found every single thing beautiful.

  She was the perfect mother. A survivor. Someone who was dealt a lousy hand and rose above it on her own steam. She was the best damn woman he’d ever seen. His ideal everything.

  His mate.

  As her sex began to clench and flutter beneath him, Foster slid two thick digits inside her tight channel. Lydia’s moan told him he’d been right in doing so. It was just the extra she needed to tip her over the edge.

  “Oh God,” she yelled as she took her pleasure. The pleasure he gave to her and would do so again and again for as long as he lived. As it should be. He lived for her now.

  “Now, I truly make you mine,” he said and climbed up her body, placing the head of his thick cock to her wet heat.

  “Yes,” she answered and that was all he needed.

  Chapter Ten

  Lydia stiffened slightly as Foster pressed deeper and deeper inside of her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed and nibbled her lips until she relaxed once more. He was so big, so warm, and so damn sexy she could hardly believe this was happening.

  She had only ever been with Mac and his idea of sex had been a cruel parody of the living, breathing sexual fantasy that was Foster Reynolds. She moaned as he found his rhythm, wrapping her legs around his waist to encourage him to continue.

  “Lydia,” he called her name and slid his legs along hers while making the sweetest kind of love to her.

  It was as if every single part of him was somehow touching her. The exquisite onslaught of feeling kept coming and coming. Hands, lips, chests, abdomens, hips, thighs, calves, feet, and of course that wonderful full sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy. All of him grinding and swirling, coming together with her the way she could never have imagined. The way it was supposed to be.