Living Extinct (13 page)

It would be damned hard for someone to chase her in these mountains. All she’d have to do is find a phone, make a quick call, and WA would pick her up. Or maybe not, maybe for the first time in her life, she could be her own bitch.

Dante got out on his side, and fresh, cool air wrapped around her. The front doors of the large mansion opened and two werewolves walked out toward them.

Moira glanced at their concerned faces.

Run and I’ll catch you.
She stilled, Dante’s words so clear in her head it was as if he’d spoken them.

She turned her head, staring into his distracting blue eyes. They were so pale and bright, probing, his attention riveted on her. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, strengthening that damned wall she’d allowed to slip for one fucking minute.

Damn him.
You needed the help of someone inside a government agency to catch me the
first time. Like you’d have a chance in hell on your own.

Her fingers fumbled with her door but she opened it, managing some grace as she slid out on her side.

I dare you to try.

No way she’d honor his thought in her head with a response, spoken or otherwise.

“Your rooms are ready.” A tall werewolf with short black hair almost shaven against his thick, round head and noticeable tattoos on stocky, muscular arms focused his attention on Dante. “Will you be with us long?”

“Not sure yet.” Dante headed toward the doors of the mansion, the others following suit.

One of the werewolves stood to the side, letting her enter before he followed, pulling the two solid doors shut behind them. Aggravation seeped from him—or was it fear? Keeping her expression blank, she quickly took in his dark skin, black eyes and short, stocky build. A Mexican werewolf, possibly born American. There was no way to know.

Remembering Juan’s comment earlier on how they’d fit in better here, it was suddenly clear what he’d meant. Dante was the only one among them with white skin.

The two werewolves were both as dark as her and Juan. To anyone not paying attention, she might appear to be one of them.

Obviously Dante didn’t feel a need to blend in. He moved to the center of the rather large foyer. A long, winding staircase flowed toward them, widening as it reached the white tile. Their footsteps tapped against it, making a hollow sound. Dante’s boots clicked harder than the rest of theirs. Broad shoulders stretched his T-shirt hard against solid muscle. He stood a good couple inches taller than the other werewolves, dwarfing them with his presence.

“Darrell Martinez is our new pack leader. He’ll join you for supper once you are settled in.” The werewolf led them up the stairs, the other pack member bringing up the rear.

66

Living Extinct

Moira stared at hard, packed buns of steel as she followed Dante up the wide staircase. Bulging muscles flexed and long, thick legs moved with the grace of a deadly predator. Her mouth went dry watching and she forced her gaze from the too enticing view. No matter that this werewolf had stolen her from her life, the sight of him did some damned unnerving things to her body.

She fought to maintain focus.
Clear your mind. Block your thoughts. Use all that fucking
training you’ve worked to master over the years.

His all-male scent, still devoid of any emotion, tangled with her senses as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Give us a couple hours and I’ll meet with your new pack leader.” Dante put a possessive hand on her lower back, a small gesture claiming loudly to the other werewolves that she was his.

The action wasn’t ignored. Both of them glanced at her and then looked away. She smelled respect and fear. Yes, fear. The smell of the emotion was almost overwhelming.

“The servants are here if you need anything,” the werewolf who’d done all the speaking told them.

The other werewolf opened three doors in the hallway, inspecting each room with a glance and then standing back so they could enter.

“Well, I’m showering.” Juan entered his room, looking over his shoulder. “I just know the feast you’ll have for us will be magnificent. Can’t wait to chow.”

The two werewolves backed away, leaving them without further comment. The whole thing seemed rather strange. They were being treated like pack leaders. Yet the strongest sensation rippled through her, telling her that they wished the three of them weren’t here. Moira headed toward the one room opposite the other two.

She reached for her doorknob, ready to close herself away in a private sanctuary and regroup her thoughts when Dante put his hand against her door, quietly pushing it open farther.

She fought to silence her thoughts and keep him out of her head.

Damn, that was hard to do when thousands of questions rushed through her.

Telling him to leave her would be a waste of words. Stepping to the side, he entered before her. When she thought of how many times she’d snuck into rooms, broken through doors to enter rooms, charged into rooms in full attack mode—the thought that these werewolves wanted to inspect where they put her seemed almost laughable.

“I expect you to run.” He didn’t ask her. It wasn’t a question.

Dante pulled heavy curtains away from shiny glass, inspecting each window before letting the heavy fabric drop over the brief light that filled the room.

“Is that an order?” she mocked him. Cocking her head, watching his body move like a fine-tuned machine, she almost let her jaw drop when she smelled his amusement.

67

Lorie O’Clare

It was a rich, enticing scent, mixing so perfectly with his smell that she’d quickly grown accustomed to inhaling.

Apparently satisfied with the security of the windows, he turned, a small curve of the corner of his lips producing one hell of a sexy smile.

“Would you follow an order if I gave you one?” he asked.

“No.” She didn’t hesitate, although it crossed her mind to add that it would depend on what the order was. She held her tongue though.

“Shut the door, please.”

She looked at the door behind her, sensing immediately that the small task was a test. The door being opened or shut would make little difference. No doubt existed that Dante would do as he pleased regardless. But she decided to humor him.

She hurried out the door and shut it behind her, unable to suppress her grin.

Crossing the hall and entering the remaining bedroom, she closed the door quickly before he could follow. A small button in the doorknob hardly seemed lock enough to keep him from her.

She pushed it anyway.

Her heart raced in her chest, the fear of being caught any moment making her want to hurry with her actions. But what to do?

There wasn’t time to form a plan.

The doorknob turned behind her, clicking, followed by the soft swoosh of wood over carpet as it swung open. She’d locked that door. Aggravation rushed through her and she turned around quickly, shoving her hair over her shoulder.

“It’s polite to knock,” she said, scowling.

“This is my room,” Dante said, closing the door behind him. “But I have no problem sharing.”

“Why is this your room?” She didn’t see anything different about this room from the one they’d just been in.

“Because you’re here,” he said quietly, his hushed tone filled with promise.

He moved toward her silently, seeming almost to float rather than walk. He cleared the distance too easily. His deadly gaze, that body rippling with too much muscle, and the strong smell of lust that she was sure he intentionally allowed to cloud the room, left her breathless.

He grabbed her hair, tugging until her head fell back. Gripping her bodice between her breasts, he twisted the fabric in his fist, pulling her to him and lifting at the same time. He forced her onto tiptoe and captured her mouth.

A growl rumbled through him, not quite a human sound. It didn’t matter that she’d let her guard down. Her mind was complete mush. Not one thought that made a damned bit of sense existed inside her.

68

Living Extinct

She opened to him, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to resist his aggressive seduction.

His tongue dipped into her mouth, exploring, probing, thrusting deep. He touched her shoulders, his hands on fire and branding her flesh. His fingers were strong, caressing and kneading her muscles, drawing forth the need in her that matched his.

Her lips were numb and swollen when his mouth left hers and created a hot, moist path to her neck.

“Moira,” he uttered, his voice raspy.

Then he grabbed her dress at the shoulders and ripped it from her body.

“Good God!” She wasn’t ready for that.

Her nipples hardened painfully, her breasts swelling with need at being suddenly exposed. He left her no reaction time. She stumbled back from his grasp, completely naked. The back of her legs brushed against the edge of the bed.

She said the first thing that came to mind. “You just destroyed my dress.”

A minute or so to gather her thoughts, get her wits about her, would be nice. There was no way she’d calm the fever that burned her alive though. She wanted Dante too fucking much.

She shouldn’t. He’d abducted her. He tortured her with his seduction. It was wrong to crave mounting and riding that hard cock of his.

He pulled his shirt over his head, giving her an eyeful of his strong, hairy chest. She about drooled.

“I figured it would slow down your escape attempt.” He tossed the shirt behind him and reached for the button on his jeans.

She watched his long fingers move along his zipper and then push his jeans down his thighs. She swallowed, her throat suddenly thick and dry. It was hard as hell to keep her guard up with every inch of her throbbing. Curiosity bested her. She wanted to be with him, discover the truth of her dreams.

Damn it. He fascinated and challenged her. No werewolf got the best of her. But she damned sure wanted to see what the best of him might be like.

“A werewolf who can hide the smell of his lie shouldn’t be trusted.”

His gaze had rested on her breasts and he looked into her eyes quickly. “I can be trusted.”

“You tore my dress from me because you want to fuck me, not to hinder my escape.

I could run from here in my fur as easily as my feet.”

“I could fuck you without taking off your dress.” He stepped out of his jeans. “But I like how you look naked.”

All thoughts of arguing with him disappeared when his magnificent cock appeared between them. She swallowed, her mouth way too dry.

It was hard as hell not to tell him she liked how he looked naked too. “Chasing after me with your cock that hard might prove a bit painful.”

69

Lorie O’Clare

“Sounds like I’m going to have to do something to convince you not to run from me.” He lowered his head as he spoke and then nipped at her lip.

A shiver rushed from her head to her toes. He nibbled his way to her chin, then down her neck. His cock throbbed between them, hardening and demanding attention.

Her hands were on him before she thought about it. Hell. She wasn’t thinking. That simply took too much effort at the moment.

She let her head fall back. Her hair brushed over her ass, tickling her. Later she’d deal with the consequences of her actions. For now, he’d created a fire inside her that burned out of control. His offer to extinguish it was too powerful to fight.

Moira fell back on to the bed. Or maybe she floated. Everything around her blurred.

His hands were on her, taking control, and she wanted to enjoy it. She would enjoy it.

Besides, Dante wouldn’t stop pursuing her until he had her. Once he did, possibly his guard would lower and then she could figure out what to do about him.

70

Living Extinct

Moira stretched out on the bed, her hair falling over her dark skin, parting around her breasts and fanning across her belly. She put her arms over her head, gazing up at him with dark eyes. Tiny streaks of silver almost made them glow. Lust dripped from her so much it intoxicated him. Her smell was sweet, rich and stronger than it had been since they’d been together.

He didn’t sense her blocking him out. If anything, she was more relaxed. But there were no thoughts to pick up. His own brain was stuck in overdrive, need coursing inside him at a dangerous speed. His heart thumped loud enough it surprised him the walls didn’t shake.

“I’m not going to just fuck you.” He had to know that she understood. “You are my mate.”

He moved between her legs, standing at the edge of the bed, and leaned over her.

Moira moved underneath him, twisting slightly while she reached for the headboard.

She was fucking sexy as hell when she lazily raised her lashes. Looking up at him, it was as if she’d left him, her mind gone to some distant place and only her body stretched like an expert seductress underneath him.

“Wolf man, I might change my mind in a second,” she murmured, her voice raspy and rough.

“There will be no going back.” Something hardened inside him and he fought a stab of pain at the thought that after all these years she had the right to reject him.

The urge to let the subject drop and enjoy the moment irritated him.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Her eyes fluttered shut and she lowered her arms, running her hands over her breasts and down her tummy.

He moved closer before he thought about it. He ran his tongue over her breast, swirling around her hard nipple and then capturing it between his teeth.

She arched into him, crying out and then grabbed his hair. Her fingers dragged over his scalp and pulled, drawing his more carnal side forward.

“Mate with me,” he whispered, her breast filling his mouth.

“Are you asking?” She held his head to her breast.

Although he could force his head away if he wished, her grip tightened, his scalp stinging as she pinned him to her chest. The acute pain forced his heart to pump quicker and the blood to flow faster in his veins. His skin tingled, prickling from tiny hairs that popped through his flesh. The pressure in his jaw, in his gums when his teeth lengthened caused a ringing in his ears. He scraped his teeth over the tip of her nipple and she jumped from the sensation.