“You taste so good, sweetheart.”
“Please,” she moaned, needing more contact.
“That’s it. Tell me, Wyn.” His fingers slid through her wetness and teased at her entrance.
“I need…I need. Fuck me. Please.”
Logan laughed, slowly pressing two long fingers into her wet tight pussy. Pushing them in and out, gradually increasing the pressure and rhythm, he watched as she ground her hips in tandem.
Wynter opened her heavy-lidded eyes, focusing as he pumped his fingers into her. He smiled at her right before he pulled them out all the way and slid a digit into his mouth, tasting her. Slowly he withdrew it from his lips and plunged his fingers back into her. Her body arched as she cried out in ecstasy. Never in her life had anyone driven her to such delightful insanity.
“That’s it baby, fuck my hand,” he encouraged. Needing more of her sweet pussy, he crushed his lips against her clit. He made love to her with his mouth, flicking his tongue over her swollen pearl. As he sucked hard, drawing it into his mouth, she began to shudder beneath him.
Between his fingers and his warm lips, Wynter’s body was set on fire. Sensations of pleasure and pain rocked her into climax as Logan latched onto her sensitive flesh. She screamed his name over and over, thrashing her head from side to side. Every inch of her skin tingled. But he gave her no reprieve.
Within seconds, he’d withdrawn his mouth, rose up over her and took her mouth to his. Tasting herself on his wet lips drove her further into the erotic madness. His fingers continued to press in and out of her, hurling her into a second orgasm.
“Logan,” she cried into his lips.
Pressing his forehead to hers, Logan pulled away. Fuck, he’d really lost his shit. Her honeyed cream still lingered on his lips, and he struggled to resist his true desire. He wanted to thrust his cock deep into her hot sheath, expecting it would be the best sex of his life. But goddammit, he had done this to her in the club. It was so not how he envisioned making love to her the first time. He needed to get her home now, in his bed.
The cell phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. Cupping her cheek, he gently pulled down her dress so that she was no longer exposed.
“Home…let’s go home,” he suggested in a restrained voice.
Wynter simply nodded, tugging at her dress. What the fuck did she just do? Oh that’s right, she’d just let the Alpha of New Orleans go down on her in a club, while others watched. Okay, not the brightest idea she ever had but as she straightened her clothes, she realized she didn’t care, not even one little bit. The only thing on her mind was getting back to his house as soon as possible so they could make love all night long.
Logan closed his eyes, and adjusted his rock hard dick. Damn, he hurt. But there was no amount of pain that would drive him to have sex with her in this place. He’d temporarily lost control, giving into the temptation. And she’d tasted damn sweet. But what surprised him most was how amazingly open and sensitive she’d been to his touch. He couldn’t wait to get her home.
His cell buzzed a second time, and he glanced at the text. From Fiona, it read: Alpha, need you at Dana’s house ASAP. Hurry. What the hell? His beta shot him a concerned look, and he knew it wasn’t good.
Logan opened the curtain and yelled over the noise to Dimitri. “Fi needs us. Let’s catch a cab.”
They pushed through the crowd moving quickly through the club. Keeping Wynter at his side, he protectively guided her until they were outside. Dimitri opened the door to the car. Wynter jumped in the back seat, confused by their sense of urgency. Logan followed and Dimitri took shotgun.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”
Logan held up his hand to silence her, holding his phone to his ear.
“Fi, what’s going on?” Logan inquired with a dominant tone that told Wynter that whatever it was, it was deadly serious. His face darkened, and she knew instantly that something very, very bad had happened.
Chapter Eleven
The Directeur scowled as he left the club. Because he was hiding in plain sight, she never saw him. He’d lingered patiently in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity that hadn’t come. ‘Good things come to those who take’ was his motto. Just a tiny slip and she’d be back in his arms and her essence in his veins. The ruse had worked beautifully for two months. She’d never known that he’d been drinking her blood. He’d even hidden his guilty pleasure from the Mistress. No, she wouldn’t be pleased.
As the evening wore on, the watch dogs never left her side. Irritated that he couldn’t snatch her, he had been forced to play his role. He’d always told his mother that he should have been an actor. For when the mongrels touched his property, he remained in the distance, calmly stewing. Like magma bubbling and building inside the core of the Earth, his rage burned deep inside. Eventually, he’d let his anger flow like a river of lava, destroying everything in its path.
The Director spat on the sidewalk, forced to leave the club. The urge to steal her was great, yet the Mistress called on his service. The Mistress must be obeyed. She’d reward him greatly, he knew. Still, he barely restrained his shaking hands from strangling the little bitch for touching the Alpha. Retribution was his only solace. Soon, he’d punish her for her indiscretions.
The volcano rumbled. The sides cracked, the seeping evil tunneled toward the surface. It was time to release the vehement steam of wrath on a victim who’d meet his deadly kiss. A willing sacrifice would sate his need to kill, for now.
Dana was dead. Fiona was crying hysterically, explaining how she and Luci had found her, sprawled on the bed. The word ‘blood’ was tossed around, and Logan expected a grim scene. After he’d finished talking to her, Logan had hung up and handed Dimitri back his phone.
“Maybe Wynter should stay out here,” Dimitri suggested.
“No,” he responded definitively. “She’s going to be pack soon. And she’s mine.”
“Okay, then,” Dimitri commented, getting out of the cab.
He found it interesting to watch Logan’s reaction to Wynter. It always amazed him how mated males were usually the last to know. They often alternated between outright denial and beating on their chests like territorial gorillas, before finally accepting and succumbing to the fact they’d found their mate. In the meantime, he imagined it was going to make for some interesting conversations.
As they ran up the steps to Dana’s Magazine Street apartment, Wynter glanced around, noticing that the area was well kept and populated. Chic clothing stores, antique shops and restaurants peppered the thoroughfare. Large columned Greek revival styled homes and colorful Victorian cottages were interspersed throughout the neighborhood. A bustling chic café across the street buzzed with late night patrons and served drinks at a sidewalk tiki bar. She wasn’t sure what had happened to Dana but if she’d been murdered, her attacker must have blended into the area, and committed the crime silently.
As they entered the apartment, nothing appeared out of sorts. Tastefully decorated in an eclectic mix of antiques and modern pieces, it was neat and clean. As soon as Fiona saw them enter, she rushed over into Dimitri’s arms. Luci sat as still as a statue, and scowled at Wynter with abhorrence.