The sensation built, my muscles tensing as I drove into her again and again, each thrust pushing us closer to release. She moaned, her body trembling beneath mine.
Then she cried out, her body convulsing, her orgasm tearing through her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I followed her over the edge, shuddering as my cock twitched, spilling into her.
We lay there, our bodies entwined, our breaths heavy. I held her close, my arms wrapped around her, protecting her—claiming her.
She was mine.
Chapter Eight
Joanna
The next morning, my body ached in all the right places, a delicious reminder of the night before. I rolled over, reaching for Marcus, but found only space. I sat up, the sheet pooling around my waist, and listened for any signs of him.
The house was silent.
A pang of disappointment hit me, but I pushed it aside as quickly as it came. I would not be that girl, the one who moped around because the guy she slept with wasn’t there in the morning. I had more important things to worry about…
Like finding out who’s to blame for Toya’s disappearance… Murder. And stopping a werewolf uprising.
I got out of bed and stretched my limbs. My dress lay in tatters on the floor. I picked it up and tossed it in the trash before grabbing a robe from the back of the door and wrapping it around myself.
Upon entering the bathroom, I frowned at the open first aid kit in the sink.
I stand corrected. There will be minuscule amounts of moping.
In the shower, I made the water as cold as I could stand and let my fingers trace the welts that covered my body. I could still feel Marcus’s grip on my hips, the insistent thrust of his body against mine, and the haunting echoes of his growls resonating through my core. The memory made me shiver, and I gripped the tiles for support, trying to steady my thoughts.
The magnitude of our connection was overwhelming, like a storm that had swept me up in its chaos and left me gasping for air. It was a hunger I’d never known, a craving that seemed to defy all reason.
Even with Ethan, a powerful beta… it never felt like this. It never came close.
As I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and faced the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, concern in her eyes. I couldn’t deny the effect Marcus had on me, the way my body responded to his touch. But I also couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a werewolf, and I was a hunter. Our worlds were not meant to collide like this.
But here we were.
I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the tasks at hand. I needed to get back to my loft and figure out my next move.
I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed my purse from the couch, and rushed out the front door.
***
The drive to my loft was uneventful, and the streets were quiet in the early morning. The 2005 Honda Accord was old, but it was an unassuming safe-house car. I parked in the alley behind my building, my eyes scouring the area for any signs of trouble.
Yep. Something was off.
I made my way up the stairs, my hand hovering over the gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans. As I approached my door, I held my breath. The keypad blinked with a steady blue light. My code had been reset.
I drew my weapon, my heart hammering in my chest as I pushed the door open. It creaked softly, revealing the dimly lit interior of my loft. I stepped inside, my eyes sweeping the room for any signs of an intruder.
A figure lunged at me from the shadows. I reacted on instinct, dropping into a defensive stance as I raised my gun. The figure collided with me, and we crashed to the ground, grappling for control.
My elbow connected with their jaw as I twisted out of their grip. They grunted in pain but recovered with a skillful quickness, their hand gripping my wrist and slamming it against the floor. I cried out, my gun flying from my grasp.
Just as I was about to throw another punch, James tapped three times on the floor. “Okay, okay. Enough.”
We disentangled ourselves, both panting as we rose. I switched on the light, illuminating the room and confirming it was my mentor.
“What the hell?” I demanded, failing to mask my grin. I massaged my wrist. “You scared the shit out of me.”
