Billionaire Wolf. Karen Whiddon
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potential to morph into so much more.
Away from the bar and the tourist areas, the beach was peaceful and quiet. Silver moonlight highlighted gentle waves, and even the ever-present screech of seagulls had disappeared for the night.
“Maria?” He turned to her, and swept her into his arms. She felt her body soften as her curves molded to his hard, muscular body. Her skin tingled from the touch of his hands, his long elegant fingers caressed her arms.
And then he kissed her. His mouth covered hers with a hunger rivaling her own. Spirals of ecstasy made her quiver, even as his mouth left hers to kiss the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.
Again she prayed this wasn’t yet another dream, that she wouldn’t wake alone and unfulfilled in her empty bed. His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time, and every cell of her being answered him, yes.
If he laid her down in the sand right now, she would welcome him inside her.
“Not here,” he told her, making her wonder if he’d read her mind. He grinned at her expression, planting a swift kiss on the tip of her nose. “You deserve better.”
She let him lead her down the beach, away from the restaurants and bars, toward the residential area. When they reached the first group of beach houses sitting high up on their stilts, he grinned at her again. She marveled at the beauty of that smile, wishing for a swift instant that he, too, was Drakkor and could change and fly up into the sky with a sweep of powerful wings.
Foolishness. She pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come. Another Drakkor would be of no use to her, and above all, she had her duty to her people to hold high.
She wanted him. And tonight she was going to give herself over to passion and quit worrying about a future over which she had little control.
“Here we are,” he said, pointing toward a yellow beach house with white trim. Like all the others, the house sat up on what she’d always called stilts. High enough off the ground to protect it from a water surge. After Hurricane Ike, most of these houses had been damaged or destroyed and rebuilt to more exacting standards. She ought to know. She’d spent many hours volunteering, assisting in the rebuilding efforts.
This house appeared both well-built and huge.
“Lovely,” she murmured. “I live on the other side of the island, closer to the ferry.”
At the base of the steps, he turned to her and gave her a slow series of kisses. She shocked herself at her own eager response.
“Come with me,” he said, and there was never a question. They hurried up the steps. He unlocked the door and they tumbled inside, laughing. Hands all over each other, they tore at each other’s clothes, until they stood naked in the silver moonlight pouring through the windows.
She thought she’d never seen a more magnificent man.
“Let me look at you,” he said, the reverence in his husky voice as sensual as any caress.
So she stood, unashamed and unembarrassed by her nudity, her entire body tingling and ready. Though she didn’t even know his name, she didn’t want to destroy the magic of the moment. There’d be time enough for that later.
He kissed her, pulling her even closer. There was nothing gentle about the way they came together. Like waves crashing upon the seawall in a storm, he possessed her and she felt herself drowning. They came together again and again, fierce and true and honest. She’d never known lovemaking could be like this, even as she shuddered, trying to hold back her second or third release and failing just as she had on all the others before.
Her inner dragon echoed her cry. At the sound, she saw a wolf rise up, a strong, shadowy image superimposed over him as he flung back his head and gave himself over to his own release. So he was Pack then. She’d known he was some kind of Shifter from his aura.
And then, and then, he pulled her close and held her, rocking her against him as if he found her infinitely precious.
Satisfied, sated, her body nevertheless stirred at his display of tenderness.
Lying there, knowing a satisfaction of a kind she’d never known, she finally slept.
Bright sunlight streaming through the windows woke her. For a second, discomfited, she realized she was still in bed with him, the wonderful, mystery man whose name she didn’t even know.
Slowly, she turned her head, to find him sound asleep next to her.
Her heart felt full enough to burst. She’d never thought she could feel this way, despite being aware that she must, if she wanted to accomplish her life’s purpose.
Determined to fulfill her destiny, she’d been actively searching for the right man for some time now. Until meeting this one, there hadn’t been any to whom she felt attracted. Not one single solitary one.
She’d actually begun to wonder if she was too picky, if her proclivity to know what she wanted was hindering her achievement of the fate that had been thrust upon her. She couldn’t count how many times she’d wanted out, wanted a different life, a different future. But then, all along, she’d known she really didn’t have a choice.
The choice had been made for her long before her own birth.
Destiny. And fate.
Yet such things were more difficult to find than they should have been.
Earlier tonight, she’d been fed up and tired of searching, half convinced her apparently overly selective nature would ensure she’d die alone and childless, a disappointment to her father for bringing shame upon her people.
And then this man had come along. Right now, lying so still in bed next to him, with every nerve ending in her body ablaze, she felt alive. More alive than she had in weeks, months. And hopeful, too. As if her destiny might not be unobtainable after all.
As she studied him, he opened his eyes and looked at her, his bright blue gaze compelling and magnetic.
“Mornin’ Maria,” he said, favoring her with that smile that made every nerve in her body thrum.
Entranced, she smiled back. “Good morning yourself.”
She thought about asking him if he wanted breakfast, but it was too soon to go all domestic. Her stomach growled in response to the thought, making his smile widen.
“Come here,” he told her. “I want to make sure what we shared last night wasn’t a dream.”
All thoughts of food were forgotten as she complied.
Later, after they’d both showered and dressed—she in the same clothes she’d worn the night before—he took her hand and lightly kissed the back of it.
Now, she thought, now would be the time to learn his name.
“Let’s go to breakfast,” he said, holding out his hand. “There’s a great little café within walking distance.”
She nodded, slipping her fingers into his. “What shall I call you?” she teased, since he hadn’t seemed inclined to give her his name.
Surprise flickered across his handsome features. “Ryan,” he told her. “Of course. You can call me Ryan.”
“Okay, Ryan.” She squeezed his hand. “Let’s go have breakfast.”
He locked up as they stepped out onto the porch.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, a small crowd of people surrounded them. There were cameras and microphones, and despite Ryan’s attempts to shield her, bright lights were shone in her face, at her, blinding her as the people called out questions in rapid-fire sequence, each one trying to be heard over the other.
Paparazzi? “What the...?” Maria whirled, holding back an instinctive snarl. Her dragon tried to surge to the front, to take over, but she’d spent her entire life training and knew how to hold back her inner beast.