Mystic Roots available now at eXtasy Books and Fictionwise! Visit the erotic realm of shapeshifters in Mystic Roots, by Sophia Danu. Join with me in the unknown and let’s explore the dangerously sensual world of werewolves…
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I walked out of the bar, noting how the shadows seemed to cling to me and around my car. Menacing, I thought, and shivered. My heartbeat accelerated in response to the odd situation, and I anticipated getting in the safety of my car.
I quickened my step, boots crunching on the gravel. I glanced around behind me and didn’t see anyone, but felt unreasonably frightened. Chalk up another strange occurrence on this bizarre adventure.
I turned around, having seen no one else in the parking lot, and slammed painfully into a huge obstacle. The obstacle grabbed my arms to keep me from falling. I yelped and looked up to see dark, intense eyes and a long, dark braid over a massive shoulder. There’s the missing “bouncer/predator” as I had begun to think of him. Funny, I hadn’t seen anyone here a split second ago.
“Shit! Where did you come from?” I asked, trying unsuccessfully to pull my arms free. He tightened his grip, pulling me off my feet, closer to his face. He closed his eyes as he inhaled my scent.
My breath caught in my throat. His eyes opened. They were a mesmerizing, bright gold but I could swear they had been dark brown only a second ago. All thought of protest died. I felt the way I imagined a doe feels when faced with a snarling wolf. Now, where did that analogy come from?
I stared into his gold, swirling eyes feeling as though my very soul was being absorbed into his. I had never experienced such an intense confrontation with another person, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation, especially since my body seemed to have a mind of its own. My nipples were suddenly hard and pointing into his hard, muscular chest. My lower body was full and ached to be touched by this man.
I pressed my legs together, feeling wetness on my silk thong. Damn. Losing sight of all but lust, I stretched my feet in my boots; pointing the tips of my toes to the ground and pressing my body up against the length of his hardness. His eyes widened, the pupils dilating in his golden eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tighter to his body, pressing his face into the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply.
He lifted his head up and stared at me for a brief moment, his eyes fierce and determined. Then, he kissed me hard and I opened to him. His tongue dominantly swept in my mouth, and he tasted so good and wild. I wanted more.
He held me tighter against his body. His strong hand curved over my ass, squeezed and pulled me tighter against his cock. I moaned, completely under his spell and compliant in his arms. I wanted anything he would give me in that moment. He rocked his hips against mine, and I wanted him so bad I ached. I wanted this more than I had wanted anything in a long time. Thoughts of everything else faded except for the feeling that he invoked in my suddenly starving body.
That vague realization was like a bucket of water over my head. I chose that moment to remember who and where I was. My head clearing quickly, I felt outrage and fear of what I was doing with this stranger. My heart dropped to my toes. My lust was replaced by confusion and anxiety. He felt my withdrawal and we stopped kissing, staring at each other.
“Let me go. Please,” I breathed into his face unconvincingly, my hands pressing on his tanned, bulging arms trying to lever my body away from his.
“No,” he growled unequivocally.
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