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Authors: Aline Hunter

BOOK: OmegaMine
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“All it takes is a bite.”

“You’re messing with me.”

“They secrete a poison through their fangs that changes the
body and preserves it. It usually takes several bites to complete the process,
three being the norm. They can share blood if they prefer but it’s not
necessary.” He motioned for her to start drinking and she complied, taking a
sip. “Shifters, oddly enough, are more inclined to do what you’re told about
vampires in stories or movies. That is where you’re basing your information
from?”

She felt her cheeks ignite in embarrassment but she produced
a brisk nod of shame.

“Despite what you might think, a lycanthrope can’t change
someone into a shifter. A person can be bitten by one of us but aside from
causing extensive damage it won’t mean a thing. Shifter mate shifters, but when
a shifter mates with a human it can be a problem because they don’t possess our
longevity. By bloodbonding we can share a portion of our magic—our
lifeforce—with human mates and ensure they remain a part of us indefinitely.”

Her heart started pounding, beating so hard it felt as if it
were attempting to hammer free from her chest.

“Define indefinitely.”

He met her eyes, the orbs of yellow-gold bright and
brilliant.

“Forever.” His voice was soft, though the meaning was
crystal clear. This wasn’t a brief fling that would eventually reach its
summit. A relationship with Diskant meant being in it for the long haul, as in
for the rest of their lives.

The glass in her hand wobbled visibly as she ripped her eyes
from his, brought the rim to her lips, tilted her chin back and downed the
contents. The bitter liquid rushed down her esophagus and settled uncomfortably
in her churning stomach. Even the prospect of vomiting all over the place
didn’t stem the nauseating thoughts racing through her head.

“We don’t even know each other.” Her voice was as unsteady
as her quaking limbs. “You can’t discuss forever with someone you’ve just met.
It’s not logical.” Trying to find humor in the situation, she quipped, “Your
divorce rate must be ungodly.”

“If I were to put my hand down your pants right now, what
would I find?”

“Excuse me?” she all but yelped and started to rise from her
chair.

He moved with a speed that contradicted his imposing size,
pinning her against the wooden chair. His face was within inches of hers, lips
so close she could feel the delicious heat of his breath against her nose. She
couldn’t look away, frozen in place by irises that seemed to shift from
yellow-gold to vivid orange.

“If I were to put my hand down your pants, shove aside the
lacy panties I know you’re wearing and dip a finger inside that hot little
pussy of yours, what would I find?”

Stunned yet aroused by his frank manner, she stammered, “I
d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.”

“Wet.” He growled and nuzzled her nose with his, turning his
head from side to side, the motions slow and intentional. “You’ve been wet
since I put you in my lap on the Harley.”

“I have not—”

He stilled and pulled away to look her in the eye. “Sweetness,
there’s no shame in admitting it. I’ve been drowning in the succulent scent of
your cunt since we walked through the door.”

To her utter mortification, a fresh, hot rush of wetness
escaped the very cunt in question. His darkly lashed lids slid closed as he
inhaled through his nose, taking a long, deep breath. When he exhaled slowly,
he reopened his eyes and nailed her with a sultry stare.

“You smell fucking incredible, Ava. So goddamn sweet. I want
to bury my face between your thighs and lap up the cream I know is waiting just
for me. And it is just for me. You know it and I know it. No one else has ever
made you this hot and no one ever will. Do you know why?”

She shook her head dumbly, lips parted while stinted gasps
escaped.

“Because you’re mine.”

She went soft at the declaration, body going lax as all
logical thought took a first-class trip out the window. The look in his eyes
said it all. He was going to have her. And god help her, she was going to let
him. He was right. No one had ever made her feel like this—hot and cold, fire
and ice. Each made all the more apparent by the other.

He traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, the roughened
skin gently flitting back and forth. “In thirty seconds I’m going to carry you
to the bedroom, drape you across the bed and see if you taste as good as you
smell. If you want out, now’s the time to say so.”

There were more reasons to say no than yes. He was a
relative stranger, a different species, and once they crossed this threshold
she was fairly certain there was no going back. If it had been anyone else she
would have played it safe, thanked him for dinner and bolted like a scalded
cat. Survival meant surveying the situation and working out all the angles
before diving in. The dead didn’t live to tell tales, nor did those who
contemplated entering into a world that existed under its own code of morals,
so completely different from those she had deferred to all her life.

Yet for twenty-seven years she had played by society’s
rules, becoming a perfect daughter, an understanding sister, a good employee,
an understanding yet unsatisfied lover. Now she was tired of doing the right
thing, of being prim and proper, of pretending she didn’t care that she lived
alone in a one-bedroom apartment.

“Pinkie?” He didn’t speak her name so much as he growled it,
and the animalistic promise of raw pleasure aroused her all the more. “What’s
it going to be? Yes or no?”

What was it going to be? Yes to a night she would never
forget? Or no to what she desired most, leaving her safe but desolate, all for
the sake of self-preservation?

Fortune favors the bold.

Remembering his earlier vow not to touch her unless she
begged him to, she arched her back, pressed her breasts into his chest and
whispered provocatively, “Yes, please.”

Chapter Six

 

Two words, two husky little syllables, and Diskant was ready
to come inside his leathers like a randy blue-balled virgin. Pinkie wrapped her
arms around his neck as he sprinted from the kitchen. Taking the stairs three
at a time, he didn’t slow down until he stood in the entrance of his bedroom.

His body was positively humming, electrified by adrenaline.
Shifters often said that when they were due a shift they could feel the fur of
their beast brushing on the underside of the skin. Right now it felt as if each
and every one of his was doing just that. Going toe-to-toe with them wouldn’t
do shit—not now. They felt as entitled to the female in his arms as he did.
That meant he had to make sure to maintain control. His mate, as sexy and
enticing as she was, was human. Until the bloodbonding was initiated she would
heal normally, and that meant he had to take it nice and slow.

His cock immediately protested the idea, flexing angrily as
his balls drew taut. He bit back the curse that arose, determined to take her
slowly, to give her pleasure she would never forget.

Placing her among the pillows against the headboard, he
waited until she was comfortable before he went to work removing her clothes.
First off were the sneakers and socks. He didn’t think it was possible but his
dick got harder at the sight of her neatly pedicured feet, the teeny toenails
painted a vibrant cherry red.

Eager hands returned to the task of removing the snug black
slacks that had taunted him all night, the thin cotton cradling and presenting
the mounds of her ass perfectly. The moment the material slid down her pale
thighs he was assailed by the scent of her pussy—musky and rich, clean and
fragrant—and groaned when he noted the large stain in the center of her
panties. The cat roared in his skull as his canines ached and throbbed,
desperate to elongate and sharpen.

Christ
!

He was pretty fucking sure his fingers were trembling as he
removed the starched and pressed ivory dress shirt button by button. Each one
revealed more and more of the radiant skin he remembered only too well, until
he was parting the sea and removing the damn thing from her body altogether.

When she tried to return the favor he shook his head and
stopped her, wrapping his fingers around her wrists.

“I’ve waited weeks to do this. I want you to keep your hands
here,” he lowered her hands to her sides and let go, “and don’t move them.”

She trembled slightly but kept her hands were he placed
them, fingers limp atop the comforter.

“Is this your first time?” He felt like an absolute asshole
for asking but if it was, he’d have to take things in a totally different
direction. A virgin would require softness and a slow introduction to making
love. Which would suck in this case, as all he could think about was getting
her ass into the air and fucking her hard and fast.

“No.” The corners of her mouth quirked as she restrained a
grin. “Is it yours?”

His heart caved and missed a couple of beats.

Holy mother of god, I think I’m in love
.

Placing one hand on either side of her body, he dipped his
head, and just as he hoped, she rose up to meet him. Much like the first time,
the connection as their lips met was immediate. The blood in his veins turned
to liquid fire, the tingling under his skin settling into the very marrow of
his bones. When she parted her lips, his tongue accepted the invitation to
explore and pressed inside. The tip of her tongue met his, mating in a slow,
sensuous dance.

Each time he retreated she followed, and each time she
followed he captured her tongue in his teeth and sucked. He teased the tip,
treating it as he would her clit, flicking his tongue over the nub once, twice,
a third time. Her soft moans were swallowed in the instant they escaped, the
husky sounds vibrating against his lips.

Breaking away from the heat of her mouth, he lowered his
head and breathed in the scent of her skin, starting at the hollow of her
throat and moving toward her sternum. When he darted his tongue out to taste
that alluring combination of cinnamon and dried sweat, he reveled in the sweet
saltiness. Goose bumps were prominent beneath the fingers he brought to her
waist and small ripples followed the path of his touch.

Up and down he licked and nipped at her quaking skin,
focusing on the delicate lines formed by her collarbones before lavishing
affection on the visible arches of her rib cage. Her ragged pants when he bit
down gently told him what he already suspected.

While she might be nervous about his nature, she was also
excited by it.

A soft whimper echoed in his ears and he felt the tips of
her fingers twine loosely in his hair. So much for keeping her hands at her
sides, not that he’d expected her to. With all the sexual energy pouring
through their bodies there was no way in hell he would be able to keep his
hands off her either.

Tugging on the strands, she guided his lips to her breasts
and arched her back. He couldn’t suppress a wide, shit-eating grin. So his mate
liked the feel of a suckling mouth on her nipples, did she? Well what a fucking
coincidence, there was nothing he loved more than extensive breast play.

Extending a claw, he sliced through the center of her bra.
The material caught at her shoulders, the straps dangling loosely at her arms.
Creamy alabaster globes with dark pink crowns greeted him, the pebbled skin
accented by beaded nipples that were hard and erect. He cupped one in each
hand, studying her face as he rolled the distended pearls between his thumbs
and forefingers. She closed her eyes as her head fell back, sighing softly.

“Do you like that?” He let go and traced the pads of his
thumbs along the areolas.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Is that all? I think we can do better than that.”

He placed his thumbs over her nipples and applied a minute
amount of pressure before he began thrumming the rounded swells. If there was
one benefit to playing video games with the pack, it was achieving superfast
and coordinated movements with his hands and fingers. Thumbs, when used
properly on the female anatomy, could set a woman off like a bottle rocket.

“Oh god!” she gasped and her eyes flew open. She began
writhing uncontrollably, her entire body quivering, legs squirming against the
bed.

He chuckled and slowed the pace. “That’s what I wanted to
hear.”

He bent his head and placed his lips at the arch beneath her
right breast. He trailed his nose along the path created by her silken flesh,
following the soft crease of skin. Making his way up and around, he moved his
thumb and flicked his tongue across the nipple, eliciting a sharp cry of
pleasure as Ava’s hips lifted from the bed and rotated in a clockwise motion.

Making his way to her left breast, he decided to give his
mate what she longed for. Latching on, he drew the bud into his mouth and bit
down lightly. She jerked and moaned, the hand on his head urging him to
continue. Slowly, he ran the tip of his tongue along the rim, capturing the
surrounding area with his teeth. As responsive as she was, he was willing to
bet he could make her come just by toying with her breasts.

“Diskant.” She sighed his name in a breathy whisper before
releasing his head and melting into the pillows.

He groaned when his balls went tight, spasmed and a sizeable
amount of semen exited the tip of his cock and slicked up the inside of his
leathers. Soon he’d come whether he wanted to or not. Not that it mattered. The
bonding heat was officially on, meaning he’d come until his sac was empty and
he was shooting blanks. The beast in his pants wouldn’t have a problem
remaining hard as a fucking diamond so long as Ava was game.

Abandoning the breasts of the century, he followed the
indention of her stomach despite her soft wail of protest. “Poor baby, you want
to come, don’t you?” he murmured against her belly, rubbing his nose in a wide
circle around her navel.

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