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I should have been analyzing that, along with the intensity in his gaze as he looked down at me, but the next thing I knew, he was kissing down the inside of my calf, my knee, my thigh, and any rational thoughts flew right out of my head.

My hips rose upward and my hands grabbed the back of his head as his tongue traced the crease of my thigh, needing him to move just a little bit more inward, to feel him tease over me, to put an end to the torment that had gripped my body.

There were three long beats as his face hovered, and I could have sworn I heard him whisper that word once again.

Mine.

But before I could decide, his tongue was tracing up my cleft, and everything else fell away.

My thighs started to shake as his lips closed around the bud of my clit, gently sucking it into his mouth over and over, somehow seeming to know exactly what I wanted. Like he was seeing into my mind and doing exactly what I was envisioning.

This was somehow cemented when all I could think of was the strange hollowness inside of me, the need for friction, for fullness, and then his fingers slid between and thrust inside of me, stroking soft and slow at first, then harder and faster as he drove me up.

His tongue replaced his lips, working me in unrelenting side-to-side movements as I writhed and arched and moaned for more.

He pushed me right up to that edge, leaving me hanging there for one agonizing second, before sending me free-falling off that cliff and down into an orgasm that seemed to start at the juncture of my thighs and spread outward until it overtook me completely.

My cries echoed out across the woods as the waves just kept crashing over and through me until they eased off, leaving me lifeless and panting on the forest floor.

Alone.

Alone?

That thought had me snapping out of my post-orgasm daze, looking around and realizing that there was no naked man over me or around me at all.

And there damn sure wasn’t a freaking wolf there either.

“What the hell…” I hissed as I shot up to a seated position, my hands reaching for my clothes, covering up my near complete nudity.

Clutching my pants to my chest, my other hand rose, touching my head, wondering if I’d managed to hit it so hard that I’d… lost consciousness and concocted a wild dream.

That didn’t explain my clothes being off, or the whole explosive orgasm thing. But, I don’t know, maybe I was out of it enough to disrobe myself and reach between my thighs while dreaming about some hot wolf-man.

“Jesus,” I hissed as I jumped up.

It didn’t matter what had happened, really. What mattered was I had to get dressed and back to the damn cabin as soon as possible.

So that was what I did.

Shutting and locking every door and window then turning on every single light as I sat up in bed, realizing I should have listened to my grandmother.

Never be alone in the woods at night.

CHAPTER TWO

Waylon

“Way, where did you run off to?” Garrick asked as I made my way back toward our clubhouse in just a pair of pants I’d found hanging from a limb in the woods.

We tended to leave some clothing scattered around for the times when the Change came over us, and we didn’t want to make our way back to the clubhouse stark fucking naked.

I mean, at this point, we were used to one another’s naked bodies. That was just the way of things when we often ran together during a Change. But since some of the men were bringing women back to the clubhouse, it felt more respectful to cover at least the lower half before coming into the camp.

I’d grown up in these woods. We all had. Generations of shifters who recognized long ago that society wasn’t a safe place for us.

The clubhouse was once a summer retreat for wealthy elites—a massive structure with over forty guest suites, outbuildings, and tennis courts surrounded by woods and its own private lake.

The pack was down to ten full-fledged wolves now, so we had more than enough room.

What we needed was, well, mates.

The True kind, not the fun one-night variety.

The kind who we could imprint on, claim, and build the next generation with. Build our numbers up. Return to our old glory.

So far, though, none of us had much luck.

Until, of course, last night.

We could Change anytime we wanted, but there was something powerful about the full moon, something that made it less of a choice, and more of a necessity.

It was when we were at our most base, our most primal selves.

That, perhaps, was why I smelled her from so far away.

The one.

My one.

My mate.

I had been around for so long, I didn’t think I would ever find her.


Tags: Jessica Gadziala Paranormal