Michele Hauf - Moonlight and Diamonds

Well, not really, but he’d use his imagination. It was necessity when surrounded by tarmac, buildings, and nothing but humans for miles and miles.

Blyss veered right and disappeared into the cool shadows.

He hastened his steps to keep up with her. Normally, Stryke could follow another werewolf by scent alone. Why was it that he had only sensed her innate wolf when they were having sex? It was as if the adrenaline had to be rushing through her system to stir whatever pheromones his wolf could react to.

And he understood the subject of their breed was off-limits. It shouldn’t bother him, but he couldn’t help being curious. How often did Blyss happen upon another werewolf? Was it so common to her that she’d grown bored of the discussion? Couldn’t be.

He’d lucked out. And as little as he knew about her, he did like her. Could something come of this? He daren’t hope, but at the same time, his inner wolf howled with joy.

* * *

Blyss opened her front door. Stryke looked so innocently hungry staring at her with that adoring expression and underlined by the gorgeous bouquet of roses. The wedding wasn’t until tomorrow but she believed his excuse that he had been walking in the area.

She never invited men into her home. It wasn’t wise. Once invited in, it was often difficult to make them leave after she tired of them. And they sometimes returned. It was a sticky business to have to deal with.

And this particular man was more than man. He was werewolf. The last creature in this world with whom she wished to be intimate.

Alas, she had ignored any intuition that would have kept her safe from that emotional danger. And even as she vacillated with grabbing the roses and slamming the door in his face, the compulsion to pull him in by that awful T-shirt and let him have his way with her was even stronger.

She couldn’t resist his wild allure. It was an accidental allure, she felt sure. The man wasn’t a master seducer. Though he was an amazing lover. And he wasn’t suave or polished, as she preferred her men. He was a rough and awkward man from the United States, of all places, who had happened to fall into her scheme, and now he was milking it for all he could. Because he knew something about her that others did not.

Would he use that information to blackmail her such as Edamite Thrash had?

He thrust the roses forward. Sweet blackmail, if there was such a thing. And that smile. She wanted him to teach her all the things that smile promised.

Blyss took the bouquet by the ribbon-wrapped stems, and then she grabbed her suitor by the shirtfront and pulled him inside. Turning, she walked down the long hallway, roses dangling at one side, man clutched at her other side.

If she was going down the wrong path, she might as well do it big. At least, until the wedding was over and she held the key to her future safe in hand.

Chapter 5

Stryke followed Blyss down a long white hallway and into a kitchen that gleamed white and silver. It looked like something out of a minimalist designer’s dream. White marble countertops, not an appliance on the counter, no signs it was a kitchen if not for the sink and sleek, glass-fronted fridge that sported wine bottles down one side.

Placing the roses on the counter, Blyss veered left into a living area that featured a white furniture set beneath a ceiling that was entirely glass. It was like standing in a conservatory without the plants. Everything was white. He didn’t dare sit down because he’d been walking through Paris. His shoes must be dirty.

How could a person relax in a place so white?

The gorgeous contrast of pink silk and blackest hair and eyebrows turned and tilted a brilliant red smile at him. “I didn’t think I’d see you until Saturday. But now that you’re here...”

She pushed her hand up under his T-shirt, her glossy nails gliding over his abs. At the erotic touch Stryke sucked in a breath. The intention in her eyes was apparent. This woman went from cool to boiling faster than a rocket ship.

He abandoned his need to ask about her werewolf and instead slid a hand about her hip and pulled her to him. Her fingernails dug in at his chest, and one of them tweaked his nipple. Yep, that gave him a hard-on.

“You are so hard to resist,” he growled.

“Then why must you? I certainly have no intention of denying myself what I want.”

“I’m guessing you are a woman who likes to be spoiled.”

“Very much so.”

“Then why me?” He caught her hand against his chest, the shirt between his hand and hers. Leaning closer to her face, he tried to scent her innate wolf but could not. “Am I just a fling?”

“Of course you are.” She kissed his mouth without making a connection—more like breath against breath—just enough of a tease to keep him close to her. “I never get attached to a man. It’s a rule. Can you deal with that, Stryke?”

It sounded fifty ways wrong. But he needed only one reason to stay. And that reason had grown hard as steel, standing at attention, ready for some action.

“Works for me,” he said and lifted her up against him.

As her thin pink skirt slid up high, she wrapped her legs about his hips and Stryke set her on the back of the white sofa. He bent to kiss along her neck, smelling only the sweet flowers that blossomed on her skin. The heat of her combined with the sweetness melded into an intoxicating perfume that he inhaled deeply. Still no wolf. He’d ask her about it later.

He slid down the zipper at the back of her dress, his fingertips strolling slowly over her skin, the straightness of her spine, until he felt the sexy divots that topped her derriere. There he rocked his thumbs against the concave curves.

“I gotta taste you.” He pulled her from the couch, turning her, so her gorgeous ass faced him. Bending to lick the Venus dimples above her hips, he curled his hands around in front of her mons. One glided up toward her breasts; the other sought the moist warmth between her legs.

“Blyss,” he muttered against her sweet skin. It wasn’t so much her name as an experience, and he intended to take it to the maximum. “So good.”

She turned and put up a foot on one of his shoulders, forcing him to kneel. So that was the way of it?

“S’il vous plaît,” she asked sweetly.

He didn’t know what that meant but that wasn’t going to stop him from taking and giving what he desired. Stryke kissed her mons and glided his hand up her thigh until her wetness enticed him to dash his tongue down her hot seam. Mmm...he was hungry now.

He lashed at her sensitive apex and her body shuddered in response. Fingers clasping his hair, she balanced there on the back of the couch, one leg sliding over his shoulder, the other, toes barely touching the floor.

Reaching up, he was rewarded with her hand clasping his. She squeezed tightly every time his tongue hit the spot. She moaned appreciatively.

The best feeling a guy could have? Kissing a woman between her legs as she came, her thighs squeezing his face and her hands tugging him in desperate release. That he could make her ride a high like this gave him immense satisfaction. He felt pride and also needed to feel her heat wrapping about his cock.

Before he could stand, Blyss sank to the floor and straddled him, taking his erection inside her. She was so wet and still spasming from the orgasm. The tug and tease on his cock lured him to a speedy orgasm.

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