She briefly glimpsed the gazebo s
et in a thirty-by-thirty-foot clearing before she ducked behind the trunk of an oak tree. Candlelight reflected off the white, high-roofed gallery, making the structure seem unnaturally bright, like a giant, glowing lantern set amongst the black canopy of trees.
Christina’s lungs burned as she tried to catch her breath. A strange, nearly unbearable combination of excitement and dread mixed in her breast, making her limbs tremble. She took a shaky inhale and peered around the trunk of the tree.
For several moments, she stared, her muscles frozen. Nausea rose in her even as sexual arousal unlike anything she’d ever known before spread like wildfire to every nerve in her body.
Her position put her directly in front of one of the six-foot-wide entrances to the gazebo. Two females lay naked next to one another, their thighs spread. One of them still wore a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals while the other was barefoot. Christina saw the soles of her light brown feet flex as Saint leaned over her, his head between her thighs.
The other female had a long mane of blonde hair. She writhed against the pressure of Saint’s hand moving between her thighs. Neither woman had been at the party, Christina was sure.
Neither was the type who would go unnoticed.
The candlelight caught the gleaming highlights in Saint’s burnished hair as he moved his head more rapidly and the woman’s rapturous cries cut through the still, humid air. He was clothed only in the dark pants that went with the suit he’d worn earlier at the party. Lean, powerful muscle rippled beneath golden brown skin.
The woman cried out sharply, her muscles stiffening, her bare feet flexing hard. He continued to eat her pussy hungrily while she climaxed.
He lowered his head to a smooth thigh; his jaw opened and shut. The woman raised her head and keened louder, her eyes going wide in stunned ecstasy, her pleasure so tangible it seemed to flow through Christina like palpable waves.
The thing that struck Christina most in that soul-wrenching moment was how natural he looked. It was as though she’d come upon a lion feeding on a fallen gazelle. There was no violence here, no sacrilege. His consumption was raw and primitive and as right as a summer downpour upon the thirsty earth.
She was so disoriented by witnessing the intensely carnal moment that she hadn’t at first registered that both women’s backs were arched, their hands above their head, wrists together as though they’d been bound. He didn’t restrain either of them, however, and Christina could see no bindings. It must be their choice to hold the position.
Or Saint’s preference?
Anxiety and the first inklings of fear entered Christina’s awareness when his jaws remained fixed to the woman’s thigh, his mouth moving ever so slightly. The woman’s head fell back to the floor of the gazebo, her body sagging limply as she gasped for air.
Saint lifted his head. A whimper of anxiety escaped Christina’s throat when she saw the long, sharp incisors that protruded onto his lips. With her sixth sense, she’d gleaned so much about him, so many secrets.
But she hadn’t guessed this.
His head whipped around. Christina took cover behind the tree, praying he couldn’t hear her rough pants for air. The howl of a dog in the distance mingled with the hammer of her heart in her ears.
Why didn’t she run?
Was she in too much shock to experience fear? He’d bitten that woman with teeth that looked like an animal’s lethal fangs. The fact that the woman appeared to love every moment of it confused Christina even more. She felt anxiety over Saint’s strange behavior, yes, but also an unbearable sexual excitement.
Not to mention fury that he’d chosen to bring two other females to what should have been a special meeting between them. Her anger frothed at the thought.
He was doing this on purpose, the bastard. He was doing this to push her away.
She gritted her teeth and poked her head out from behind the tree. He must have decided whatever he’d heard had been an animal or a sound from the distant city streets, because he was back to making love. He stretched across the woman he’d been pleasuring, his head now between the blonde’s thighs. After a moment, he raised his head to inspect his handiwork.
The blonde’s pussy had been shaved clean. It glistened in the soft candlelight. Christina’s womb flexed inward in painful arousal as she watched Saint’s head lower once again. The woman made a choking sound, as though pleasure had literally stolen her breath.
Christina watched, enthralled, as his limber, wet tongue drew sigh after moan after begging chant from the woman’s throat. Her body had gone rigid, her back arched off the floor. The brown-skinned woman moved her hips restlessly against Saint’s body. He responded by pressing a hand between her legs. The woman mewled appreciatively. Saint’s head whipped around.
Suddenly his eyes were on Christina. She trembled in dismay and shock and arousal and she didn’t know what else, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Tears soaked her heated cheeks.
He pushed his upper body up with his arms, pinning her with his stare.
Chapter Two
Misery finally overcame her.
She turned and ran through the night. She came up short not two seconds later when a wolf stepped into her path. At first she thought it was Scepter. But then she saw that while this animal was as tall as Scepter, it was bulkier. Its fur looked dark gray in the moonlight versus Scepter’s mixture of dove gray and white around the neck and muzzle.
“Go away,” she hissed. Tears continued to pour down her face. A dam of emotion felt as if it were about to break and explode out of her chest. All she wanted to do was to get home and stifle her groans of pain and agony into her pillow. She didn’t have time for strays—wild or domesticated.