Some Lycan Hot Read online

  “Sshh. We have each other again.” Darrius heart sang. Alaya loved him! She yearned for him as much as he had yearned for her. “Be with me,” he said softly. “We will work through our problems. We will navigate whatever life—or our pasts—throws at us. As long as I have you, I have everything.”

  “Oh, Darrius.” Her gaze shone with love, and she leaned forward … and kissed him. Then she pulled away, grabbed his hand, and led him into her bedroom.

  Dark greens, gleaming bronzes, and shimmering golds were punctuated by bright splashes of orange. Her bedroom held a huge bed with more pillows than he could count. The door to the master bath was open, revealing wet towels and woman’s beauty products scattered on the countertop.

  Alaya pulled him toward the bed, but he stopped her. She faced him, her gaze questioning. He wanted her … and he wanted to worship every part of her body. He would make her believe that he loved her fully, that no scars, no fears would ever keep them apart again.

  Slowly, Darrius undressed Alaya. She stood proudly before him as he drew off her shirt and her jeans. She wore a simple white lace bra and matching panties. He could see the fire had left its marks on her belly and her right thigh and calf. But her skin … her skin was still luminescent and soft.

  Yes, she was different. He, too, had a body with wounds and scars. Didn’t everyone? A woman who had lived … who had survived … whose beauty was only amplified by her warrior’s body … this woman, this lycan, was his.

  Darrius slipped a finger under the band of her panties. With one tug, the material tore in two, and he tossed the pieces away.

  “Darrius!”

  “I will buy you more,” he said, chuckling. “As many as you want.”

  She ruffled the top of his hair. “You are incorrigible.”

  “Maybe.” He knelt at her feet, feeling like her captor and her slave, and leaned forward to breathe in her feminine spice. Kissing the tender flesh, flicking his tongue over her clit—those merest touches made his cock hard.

  Holding onto her trembling thighs, he kissed the spot just above the crease of her sex. He dragged his tongue down the slender line, and then nibbled his way up the plump flesh. Her moans stoked his desire, but he was patient. He’d waited more than seventy years to have her again. What were a few minutes more? As he continued his veneration of her womanhood, he slid one finger … and then two inside her. She was wet, oh-so-ready for him.

  Her hands clutched at his hair. Darrius looked up and noted with satisfaction that Alaya’s eyes were closed and her face was flushed.

  As he established a slow rhythm with his fingers, he began to suckle on the sweet pearl beaded in his mouth.

  Within moments, she tensed and grabbed his head, holding him still as pleasure overtook her. “Oh, Darrius,” she whispered. “It’s been so long.”

  “I’ve missed you, Liebling.” Darrius was on his feet in two seconds flat. He shucked his shoes and socks, dragged off his jeans.

  Alaya took off her bra, then grabbed his shirt and tore it open. Buttons popped off and what was left of the material drifted to the floor.

  Lust roared through him, the hot desire of a man coupled with the dangerous need of a lycan. He picked up Alaya and slammed her against the wall. She growled, her eyes going animal. Her nails dug into his shoulders and drew blood.

  His heart pounded furiously and his blood raged. The tang of her sex was still in his mouth tormenting him as he plunged inside her slick heat. The tight, sweet feel of her made him howl.

  Literally.

  Darrius swung around and walked to the bed, throwing Alaya onto it. She snarled, baring her teeth. He snarled back, dominant, in control. She stayed on her back, and sank into the mattress. His gaze latched on her breasts, just as lovely as he remembered. Big as grapefruits with nipples pink and juicy, luscious treats for a very hungry man.

  He kneeled between her legs and slowly covered her body with his. Then Darrius kissed the puckered flesh around her nipples, tracing the crinkles with his tongue. He scraped his teeth along one nub then he lightly nipped the other peak.

  A low growl issued from Alaya—and he couldn’t stop his answering growl. That erotic sound sent lust zinging straight to his balls. Oh, yeah. He gave up his playful torture in favor of an all-out sensual assault on her breasts.

  He felt her nails on his back, raking the muscled flesh, digging her fingers into his buttocks. Her hips arched against his cock, rubbing against invitingly. He plunged into her, hard and fast, his mouth working her nipples. Making love to Alaya was all new—and yet familiar.

  She smacked his ass. Her nipples went hard and tight as she gave herself over to another orgasm. She went limp. “How could I forget how good we were together?”

  “I will seek to remind you often.” He kissed her softly.

  She kissed him back, and what began as sweet meeting of lips turned into a desperate mating of mouths.

  Darrius rolled over and she went with him, laughing.

  His cock felt achingly hard. One thing lycans never worried about was erectile dysfunction. Lycans could have intercourse for hours.

  Alaya licked the space between his pectorals, and then she feasted on his chest, peppering kisses across his rib cage. As she explored his body with fingers and mouths, his hands were restless on her shoulders, her back, her hips, her luscious ass.

  She crawled down the length of his body and positioned herself between his knees. He watched her lower her head, her dark hair a curtain as she kissed his cock. Darrius’s eyes rolled back into his head. He heaved a breath. Her hot mouth worked his shaft until his control was threadbare.

  Darrius looped his hands under her arms and pulled her forward, rolling once again so that she was on her back. He pushed up her legs until her heels rested on his shoulders. He gripped her thighs … and buried himself into her wet heat.

  “Alaya,” he said, his gaze capturing hers. “My beautiful one.”

  The rocking of their bodies was familiar, new, perfect.

  Pleasure consumed them both.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Meanwhile in Broken Heart…

  “LOVE IS YOUR jurisdiction,” whispered Jessica. “So I called you.”

  Eros, the god of love, peeked over the large plastic menu. “Ah. Do you mean when you went outside and shouted my name?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “I thought shaking your fists at the sky was a nice touch.”

  “Thanks.”

  “By the way, why are we whispering?” he asked. “And why do I have to hide?”

  “Because one of the lovers in question is about four booths away, and until I know you can fix this, I don’t want to get her hopes up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I have these young friends—two crazy kids in love. Tamara wants to go to college and Durry wants to hunt monsters.”

  “I’m not a relationship therapist.”

  “I thought maybe you could use your magic love bow on them.”

  “My magic love bow?” Eros put the menu down and stared at her for a full thirty seconds. “Is that another porno joke?”

  “No … well, not on purpose. But you have the love-making arrows, right? C’mon! You just have to go pling, pling.”

  “Look, Jessica, in ancient times, people weren’t as smart and didn’t live as long. The arrows helped facilitate matches so your species survived. Modern humans are evolved. Honestly, they overanalyze far too much. The only reason I used the bow on your mother and her boyfriend was because of—”

  “The pixie wish,” finished Jessica.

  Eros went pale. He looked around. “Great Zeus! Flet isn’t around here, is he?”

  “Nah. Simone and Brady grounded him because that damned pixie gave their daughter wings. They’d flown around half of Broken Heart before they got caught.” Jessica shrugged. As far as she was concerned, that was just another day in the paranormal town.

  “You live in a very strange place.”


  “You have no idea.”

  Eros considered that for a moment, and then shuddered. “I’m sorry I can’t help. Sometimes, people don’t stay together. Their hearts yearn for something—or someone—else. Not every relationship can be fixed. Not every relationship should be fixed. Love changes over time. How people love also changes over time.”

  Jessica looked forlorn. “So this situation falls under that saying … er, if you love them let them go, and if they come back, you can kill them?”

  “Ah. Well, yes. Something like that.”

  “Crap. Could you at least talk to her?” asked Jessica. “Give her some tips on breaking up with her lycan boyfriend?”

  “Tell him it’s over—then move to the Arctic Circle and learn to speak penguin.”

  “Are you sure you’re the god of love? Because you kinda suck at the whole matters of the heart thing.”

  Eros slapped the menu onto the table. “I’ve being doing this ‘whole matters of the heart thing’ thousands of years before you were even a twinkle in your mother’s eye.”

  “You’ve seen my mom. The only way she’d twinkle is if I threw glitter on her.”

  Eros’s lips quivered, and then he gave into the laugh. “It’s very difficult to win an argument with you.”

  “I know. I’ve been trained by the best—two mouthy teenagers. Sarcasm level: Expert.” She pretended to wipe away a tear. “I’m so proud.”

  Eros reached across the table and grasped Jessica’s hands. “Tell your friend the only thing she can do is tell her boyfriend what’s in her heart. The truth can hurt. It can drive people away, anger them. But a true love will listen. A true love will let go, because he places her happiness above his own.”

  “I get it. I can’t save them. They need to handle it on their own. And I should stop poking my nose into their biz-naz.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, people who are lucky enough to have soulmates find them again. Have faith in your friends. And have faith in love.”

  “I do,” said Jessica. “I absolutely do.” She put her hand against her heart and quoted, “‘And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva.’”

  “Did your lips just go numb?” asked Eros.

  Jessica narrowed her gaze. “Hel-lo. Princess Bride reference.”

  “Who’s a princess bride?”

  “You … you haven’t watched The Princess Bride? You’re the god of l-o-v-e.”

  “You keep pointing that out. I don’t really watch movies,” said Eros. “I don’t find them as compelling as stage plays.”

  “Fuck that. You’re watching that movie. I’ll provide the couch, the TV, the DVD, and the popcorn. Let’s go.”

  “Now?”

  “Are you busy?”

  “Not unless you count talking to a crazy vampire.”

  “Of course, I don’t. Look, watch the movie, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Three words,” said Jessica. “Flet. The. Pixie.

  “Okay, okay.” Eros threw his hands up in surrender. “Can I invite my wife to suffer this torture with me?”

  Jessica offered a wide smile. “Sure. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I DON’T BELIEVE it!” Aphrodite glittered into solid form and threw out her arms, nearly thwacking her companion, Grace. The goddess spun in a circle, her hands flying within inches of the young girl’s porcelain-perfect face.

  “Good morning, boss. Hi, Grace.” Daphne leaned against the receptionist desk, her gaze drawn to the slender form dressed in the typical gauzy blue gown. Which Grace was at this time? All three Graces looked and acted the same, and if she hadn’t seen them together, she’d think there was only one. Aphrodite usually had a single Grace into tow and that she felt the need for an entourage.

  Aphrodite strode across the lobby, headed toward her office. Grace followed, and she knew her boss well enough stop three seconds before Aphrodite stopped herself, and turned around. She gestured wildly. Grace retreated a few steps more to avoid the flailing hands and the sharp ends of Aphrodite’s manicured fingernails. “Nemesis!

  Daphne shook her head. “What did she do this time?”

  “She stole my apple. Again! Daughter of justice, my ass. She’s a thief! She should add herself to her list of people who need vengeance.” Aphrodite banked her fury for a moment as she studied Daphne. “What on earth are you wearing?”

  Daphne smiled. She lived for Aphrodite’s lectures on proper dress and stylish attire. Today, she wore a silver halter top, a skirt made of purple feathers, and silver thigh-high boots. Her hair and eyes were also purple, though that actually was the color of her hair and eyes—one of the perks (or maybe not) of being a nymph. She struck a pose. “Do you like, Di Di?”

  Aphrodite hesitated, obviously caught between hurting Daphne’s feelings and saying what she really thought. “Don’t call me, Di Di. And you look … um, fine.”

  “Thank you.” Daphne let her friend and boss off the hook. “Now, about Nemesis … when’s the last time she took your golden apple?”

  Aphrodite suddenly found the shiny red toes of her stilettos very interesting. “Well, let’s see … it was probably around the time of the Trojan War.”

  “Ah, yes.” Daphne grinned.

  “You’re not exactly innocent when it comes invoking the wrath of Nemesis,” said Aphrodite.

  “I haven’t done anything to her since that bacchanal in the spring of 293. And B-T-W, I only suggested we should use her sword for the spit. Apollo was the one who stole the damned thing and put a dead pig on it.” Daphne grimaced. “Damn. I promised myself I wouldn’t say the A-word.”

  “I forgot you two are on the outs again. What did he do this time?”

  “Does it matter?” Daphne sashayed to her desk, and pulled open a drawer. “There’s not a whole lot on the agenda.”

  “I know.” Aphrodite sighed. She looped her arm around Grace’s shoulder, and they walked back to join Daphne. “Those reality dating shows and tawdry online matchmaking websites have taken the fun out of love. In the old days, all you needed were a couple hundred young people gallivanting in nature, a roaring bonfire, and vessels of Dionysus’s vintage wine. That’s how you make love matches.”

  “I thought those parties always ended in orgies.”

  “They did,” said Aphrodite, “but they also ended in love matches.”

  Daphne pulled a metal object out of the drawer and showed the women. “Ta-da!”

  Aphrodite squinted at the odd square object. “What is it?”

  “Hephaestus made it for me. It’s basically a god and goddess GPS.”

  “Why would you need one of those?” asked Aphrodite. One blonde brow winged upward. “To avoid a certain boyfriend?”

  “Ex-boyfriend.” Daphne tapped the top of the GPS. “Now, do you want to find Nemesis or not?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DARRIUS HELD ALAYA in his arms, feeling utterly complete. Gone was the restlessness that had been his solid companion since the day he’d lost Alaya. He never thought he’d have his beloved in his arms again. To kiss her, to hold her, to love her—it was surreal. And yet, here they were, together once more.

  This time, they would have their happily-ever-after.

  “You have been judged and found guilty of hubris,” boomed a female voice. “Vengeance is mine!”

  Light shattered the darkness.

  Darrius jumped out of the bed, growling, already preparing to change into his lycan form. He would defend Alaya to his dying breath. His woman rolled off the bed and joined him. She was a warrior. As fierce a beast as any lycan he’d ever known. Alaya’s stance was loose, but Darrius knew she was also preparing for the change. Together, they would face this danger.

  Whatever the hell the danger was.

  Out of the brightness walked a tall woman, dressed in black leather. She held a gleaming sword in one hand—and in the other, a gold apple. “The frivolous insolences of mortals,” she said with a sneer. “
Do you believe you deserve true love? I mean, really! It’s been seventy years. That’s a dog’s age.” Nemesis laughed. “Dog’s age. I crack myself up.”

  “Fuck off, Nemesis. I’m free of you and your wrath.”

  “Watch your mouth, puppy. You broke the bargain. You will be punished.”

  “I didn’t break the bargain, and you know it. I have a different face. It is my old visage that Darrius could not look upon.” Alaya smiled thinly. “So there.”

  Nemesis raised the sword, which drew Darrius’s gaze and his ire. Alaya growled low in her throat and crouched, ready to leap.

  But it was the apple that posed the threat.

  “You will forget your true love. Forever.” The apple glowed red, and that insidious color snaked toward them quick and vicious. Its noxious heat surrounded them, a cloud of poison they could not escape.

  “Damn it, Nemesis!” Through a veil of choking red, Darrius saw a delicate bejeweled hand snatch the apple. The red dissipated immediately.

  “Daphne! We don’t have much time.”

  “On it, boss.” A thin girl dressed in a vinyl pink sheath and thigh high ballet boots appeared before them. Tiny jewels glittered at the end of her pink lashes, making the violet color of her eyes pop. Her purple hair was done in a beehive-style.

  “Wow. You guys are seriously naked. Nice package, dude.” She pushed on his shoulder and he sank onto the bed behind him. He felt someone bump into him, and stared at the nude woman who looked as dazed as he felt. Who was she?

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Oh, shit. Look, kiddos, I don’t have time to explain.” The purple-haired girl brandished a vial filled with sparkling gold liquid. “Drink.”

  She pushed the end of the glass tube into his mouth. He was so startled that he automatically drank. Whatever it was tasted sweet like honey. He watched her toss the rest of the liquid into the lady’s mouth.