River Fortuna’s wolf is awake and pacing, anticipating their
first heat. Traumatized by early misunderstandings of shifter sexuality, River
intends to avoid being claimed at all cost. She doesn’t plan on meeting
handsome, virile Alpha Jett Reeves.
Jett is instantly drawn to River, his pheromones flooding to
trigger her heat and force her sexual surrender, despite her tangible—and
unlawful—means of avoidance.
Initially a mindless slave to her hormones, River comes to
accept Jett past his ability to assuage her sexual need and falls in love with
him. Unable to label his myriad of feelings, Jett doesn’t reciprocate, and she
is devastated, realizing she is locked in a lifelong, loveless partnership.
Attacked by a rogue shifter, River wakes with no memory, and
Jett must face the fact that what he felt for River all along was love—and find
a way to bring her back to him.
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They rode the elevator to the
sixth floor in near silence, the eddies of lust making the small space nearly
insufferable for him, and his mate leaned against the wall as though she might
slip to the floor any moment. Her brow and temples glistened with sweat and her
fingers twitched spasmodically. She was coming into her full heat and fighting
it all the way.
Stepping off when the doors
opened, he strode in the direction the small arrow indicated and found the room
within several yards. The key card gave them entrance and he flicked on the
light. He shoved the cases just inside the door, blocking the heavy panel with
his forearm so it wouldn’t close. “In you go, River.”
Did women trudge? His woman did,
despite the trembling of her entire body. His heart ached at her trepidation
despite the all-encompassing lust he experienced. Her head down, intense need
radiating to pull him in, he threw the deadbolt, and then gave in to what their
nature decreed.
Thrusting his hand through
her thick mane, his fingers weaving among the long, silky strands just as he’d
fantasized, he drew her head back and forced her to look him in the eyes. Hers
were dilated, the rich brown irises nearly eclipsed by the stark black of her
pupils. Square, white teeth clenched her full bottom lip, presumably to control
panting, because she drew draughts of air in through her nose. He could detect
the threads of resignation weaving through her vast need, her intense heat
rapidly eclipsing any coherent thought. Regret that he’d caused this once again
pierced his own narrowly shrinking focus—but only briefly. He lowered his head
and took her mouth.
Sweetness and life burst over his
senses at his first taste, and he groaned against her full lips even as his
tongue made a foray past them. River totally surrendered, as female wolves do
when they met their fated mate, and he barely had time for that thought—fated
mate—before he wrapped an arm around her limp form. Two steps and they fell
to the big bed, the mattress compressing beneath their combined weight as he
ravished her mouth. She opened to let him in and gave up all the flavor that
was uniquely her.
He reluctantly tore his lips away
to rear up and shred the plain shirt that hid her from his view. Her lightly
tanned skin filled his vision as her utilitarian bra met the same fate, and he
noted with pleasure how modest her tan lines were. His wolf rose up. Mine. The
growling claim resounded in the room and her eyes fluttered open and she
blinked. Behind the thicket of her dark lashes, a sexual haze again blurred the
rich chocolate, and her lids drifted shut.
Once they came to know one
another, their coming together could be slowed and savored, but for now, he
needed to visibly establish his claim. His frantic cock shuddered in agreement
as he demolished the tough denim of her jeans, taking care not to score her
soft skin with a claw.
With her nude beneath him, his
gaze drawn to the soft, pale fur at her apex, he willed his other-self back,
and his claws retracted. Lord knew what she’d seen when she’d stared up at him.
Probably a wild-eyed beast intent on its succulent prey, and he
blessed the Mother and the mating heat that River hadn’t screamed in fear. Only
an alpha could partially shift, and it was unlikely she’d seen one in such a
state before.
His own apparel fell away as he
quickly stripped and then blanketed his mate’s writhing form. Velvety
flesh met his own in a haze of heat and sensation.
“Please.” Her plea was strangled
and all the more evocative because of it.
“I’ll take care of you,” he promised.
“Always.”
About the author;
Allyson Young lives in
cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. She
worked in the human services all across Canada
Allyson will write until
whatever she has inside her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all
the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson
favours the darker side of romance.
website: http://www.allysonyoung.com
email: allysonyoung45@gmail.com
Twitter: Allyson Young
@allysonyoung45
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