The Wolven

She heard him, but more than his voice. All of him seemed to call to her—and it felt primal.



Shauna turned to face him, and in less than a second, her lips were pressed against his.



Danyon wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in close. Their kisses grew ravenous immediately, tongues probing, deeper, deeper, both craving more. His fingers traveled lightly along the nape of her neck, and Shauna moaned.



In response, Danyon’s hand moved slowly down to her shoulder, his thumb latching on to the edge of the bathrobe near her collarbone and lowering it. Then his fingers trailed lower—lower still. By the time his fingertips reached the swell of her breast, the world had become a swirling kaleidoscope, and he was its fulcrum. He brushed the top of her left breast, then, keeping his touch feather-light, he moved toward her nipple. Stopping just short of the hardened nub, he circled it slowly with a finger, again and again, each time his fingers moving ever closer to her nipple, yet not…quite…touching it.



Shauna gasped with desire, wanting to scream, Now! Now! And just when the ache in her body became so excruciating she thought she could bear no more, Danyon suddenly lifted her up and sat her gently on the counter.



He looked into her eyes, looked into her—and she was lost.



Neither said a word.



None were needed.



Nothing spoke louder than this.



Danyon kissed her long and deep, then lowered his mouth to her breast. Shauna cried out, dug her fingers into his shoulders and pulled him closer. She felt frantic, alive, the need inside her mounting to the point of desperation. His hands moved deftly, slipping the bathrobe off her shoulders, then cupping both her breasts. Her nipples strained against his palms, and he moaned, lifted his head, kissed her lips, her neck.



Shauna gasped, wrapped her hands behind his head, tangled her fingers in his hair. Part of her wanted to push away, to stay in control. But the other part of her, the one wrapped in his arms and melting under his touch, refused to listen.



He stepped into her, parting her legs with his body. She opened her mouth to protest, to moan, and his tongue was inside her mouth, teasing, plunging. His hands slipped between her legs, and his thumb began to stroke her, circling the small mound that turned her body into liquid fire. She arched her back, and he groaned, breathed her name, then his fingers pressed into her hot wetness. Her breath came short and fast. She moved in rhythm with his fingers.



The heat she’d felt emanating from him only moments ago, now felt like a furnace at full power. Combined with the heat from her own desire, she felt as if she were burning from the inside out.



Then with one sure thrust of his fingers and swirl of his thumb, the orgasm that had been coiling inside her, taut, tight, like an over-wound spring, suddenly let go, and Shauna cried out from the force of it. She felt herself contract around his fingers, her wetness drenching them. He groaned her name, and she let out a guttural moan, sounds she’d never heard herself make before. Danyon growled with desire, and before Shauna knew it, he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.



As he walked, he kissed her lips, her eyes, her forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clung to him. The only space and time and matter that existed were right here, right now, and him. She no longer had any desire to maintain control. In fact, she wanted to lose what little she had left. Lose it to him, fall into him with complete abandon.



Within minutes, Danyon was lowering her down on a royal blue comforter atop a huge four-poster bed. She sank into it, her mind and body still wrapped in heat and desire. His lips never left her as he removed his shirt. Then he stood and stripped off his pants.



He was huge, the length of him fully engorged. His abdomen was taut and cut, the muscles in his chest, his arms, and his thighs massive and highly defined. Shauna saw them ripple, noticed that his eyes had gone from honey-colored to intense brown. Something told her he was riding the edge of transformation. Instead of frightening her, it excited her all the more. It caused the heat and need inside her to explode into a roaring inferno.



He leaned over her, placing a hand on either side of her shoulders. He pushed her thighs apart with one knee.



His eyes never left hers.



“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”



His voice sounded nothing like Danyon. It was raw, almost feral—and it rang familiar to her ear.



The length of him brushed up against her sex, teased her swollen mound, stroked the cleft of her. She strained toward him, arching her back. “Yes, yesss.” Then her words were replaced by sounds animalistic in nature, mirroring the power and fierceness of the need inside her. The need to control returned once more, only this time she wanted to control his movements, to grab him, force him deeper inside her.



He inched forward rubbing against her, steel against satin. The ridge of him entered her, drove her mad, to the point of incomprehension.



She moaned, urging him inside her, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, raking them across his back.



She felt the muscles beneath her hands undulate all the more.



“Yesss,” she growled.



And he thrust forward, plunging the length of him into her swollen well of heat. She cried out, pulled him in closer, bit into his shoulder. He thrust deeper, harder, in—out—in. She was filled to overflowing, consumed with the pleasure of the hugeness inside her, the weight of him on top of her.



This time her orgasm felt like a tsunami, and she screamed with its release. She heard him growl, then he plunged into her again, and his body became one undulating mass of taut muscle. She heard his howl of release, and her mind settled into a gentle, swirling fog.



The next thing she knew, Danyon was stretched out beside her, and she lay in the crook of his arm, naked flesh to naked flesh. He smoothed her hair with a hand and whispered her name.



Then he drew her in even closer and it felt like home.



Chapter 8



It was seven the next morning before Shauna reached home. Danyon hadn’t wanted her to go, but she’d already begged off half a day’s work the day before and didn’t want to leave her sisters in a bind, especially with them bringing in a new load of inventory. If given her druthers, though, she would still be with Danyon, snuggled against him under a thick, down comforter. She’d be there now, tonight, tomorrow…



Shauna smiled to herself, remembering how Danyon had teased her this morning after she’d discovered her clothes on a small table in the hall near the bathroom. They had been cleaned, folded, and neatly stacked. Even her sneakers looked like new. She’d asked Danyon how they had gotten there, and when he told her that Raul had taken care of her clothes as he had asked him to, she’d hid under the comforter, embarrassed. What time had Raul dropped off her clothes? And what had he heard? Last night she’d experienced the best sex she’d ever had in her life, and she knew she’d not exactly been—quiet during that experience.



First the embarrassment of Raul possibly hearing more than he should have, and now having to face her sisters. She wasn’t one to stay out all night, so she already knew Fiona would bombard her with questions, and Caitlin would probably tease her to no end.



Shauna sighed, preparing herself for the inevitable. She stood near the gate that led to the main entry of the center building they called home. It was surrounded by a ten-foot brick wall, and the gate opened up to a path that led past a small garden to the front door.



Inside, the foyer offered two hallways, one to the left, the second to the right. The grand staircase in the middle of those hallways extended to the second floor. From her perspective, the house was basically three large apartments joined together by a common living area. The commons had a huge dining room that also served as a ballroom, and a large kitchen in the center. As for the apartments, Fiona lived in the east wing, Caitlin in the west, and Shauna in the middle. Each had kitchenettes, bathrooms, bedrooms and a sitting area. Sometimes Shauna felt like she had to go through an entire subdivision just to get to her place. There was no sneaking in—ever. Whether she liked it or not, it was time to face the music.



As she suspected, Fiona and Caitlin were in the main kitchen. Fiona was at the stove scrambling eggs in one skillet, while flipping ham slices in another. Caitlin stood at the island counter slicing kiwi and fresh strawberries. Both looked up when she walked in.



“Well, well,” Caitlin said. “Our little night bird is back.” Her silver eyes twinkled with mischief.



“I thought you were sleeping,” Fiona said. “You’ve been out all night?”



“Can’t you tell by her eyes?” Caitlin said, grinning. “They’re redder than Dorothy’s ruby slippers.”



“They are not,” Shauna said, marching past her. “Any coffee left?”



Fiona hitched a thumb toward a side counter. “I just filled the carafe.”



As Shauna poured herself a cup of coffee, she felt her sisters’ eyes boring into her back.



“So,” Fiona finally said, “did you have a fun evening?”



Caitlin chuckled.



Shauna took a couple sips of coffee, then turned to them and leaned her back against the counter. “Okay, what’s so funny?” she asked Caitlin.



Caitlin held up a hand, feigning innocence. “What?” The Cheshire cat grin on her face widened.



“I heard you snicker. I’m just curious as to what’s so funny.”



“Hey, I don’t snicker,” Caitlin said, then snickered.



“Come on, spill it already.”



“Well, it’s kind of obvious that you did have fun last night,” Caitlin said.



“Huh?” Shauna quickly checked her shirt and jeans.



Both were unwrinkled and clean; the same as when she had put them on earlier.



“Not your clothes, silly.” Caitlin laughed. “Your face.”



“Cait, stop picking on her,” Fiona said. Her lips twitched as she struggled to hold back a grin.



“What’s wrong with my face?” Shauna asked. She turned and leaned over to see her reflection in the toaster. Besides the dark rings under her eyes from too little sleep, she looked the same as she always did.