Overview
Give In To Fate
Mystical and sensual shapeshifters, the Chanku exist in a realm of raw, untamed desire. Adam and Eve have returned to their forgotten legacy, but they are naïve in the rituals of ecstasy and wild sexuality. Their guide Oliver will show them the way, and together the three will revel in a sexual destiny like no other. . .
Praise for Kate Douglas's erotic romance:
"Sexy, tense, and complex." --Romantic Times, 4 Stars on WOLF TALES 12
"The story is so thrilling and the sex is so hot." --Romantic Times, 4 Stars on WOLF TALES 11
"Kate Douglas always has a way with the sensual world of erotic romance." --Coffee Time Romance
This book contains adult content.
Previously published in Sexy Beast IV
42,000 Words
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780758288752 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Kensington |
| Publication date: | 03/01/2013 |
| Series: | Wolf Tales (Aphrodisia) Series |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 122 |
| Sales rank: | 583,254 |
| File size: | 611 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Wolf Tales 5.5
Chanku DestinyBy Kate Douglas
Kensington Publishing Corp.
Copyright © 2008 Kate DouglasAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-8875-2
Chapter One
The morning sun caught his mate and newborn daughter in a flash of light that brought tears to Anton Cheval's eyes. Left weak-kneed by the rush of emotion and a sense of well-being, he grabbed the doorframe for support. It was the feeling that he'd never had so much in his life that was so perfect, that gave him joy.Nor had he ever had as much to lose.
That insidious thought twisted briefly through his mind, then fled beneath the glare of sunlight as Keisha rolled to one side, cuddling their sleeping daughter against her full breast. Lust, dark and powerful, enveloped Anton. Need grabbed his sac in an iron fist. He sucked in a sharp breath with the rush of blood to his cock. Desire swamped him. It left him feeling at once all powerful, yet uncomfortably unmanned. His. These two females, one lush and ripe, the other as pure and innocent as only a newborn can be—both of them, his. Dependent upon him for safety, yet leaving him overwhelmed with an unfamiliar and frightening sense of vulnerability.
Keisha's eyes fluttered open. She blinked slowly, caught Anton watching her, and smiled. As she brushed the thick tangle of dark hair back from her face, her thoughts floated into his head, as clear as if she spoke them aloud, infused with the intimacy of their mindtalking and the power to raise his arousal even higher.
Lily's out like a light. Do you want to put her in her crib?
He smiled broadly. He couldn't help himself. It had been so long since he'd made love to his mate. If that means I can finally have Lily's mother to myself, by all means. Anton walked quietly across the room, carefully lifted the sleeping baby in his arms and carried her to the small portable crib they still used. She felt warm and tiny and so very precious against his chest, but already she was growing. It wouldn't be long before she was too big for the smaller crib.
He'd had no idea how quickly babies grew, nor how much their presence could change a relationship. Anton wrapped a blanket lightly around the tiny bundle and rubbed her tummy until she settled back into a sound sleep. His heart ached with love for her. And, for her mother. He turned around and grinned at Keisha again. His pulse sped with the light from her smile.
Thank goodness for Stefan. Suffering the same fate while his lovely mate healed from the early delivery of little Alexander, Anton's packmate had been a more than willing sexual partner over the past few weeks.
Well, Stefan was on his own today. Shedding his clothing as he crossed the room, Anton was already naked by the time he reached the bed. Keisha held the covers and he slipped in beside her. Damn, he'd wanted her so badly for so long, but now that he lay beside her, Anton realized he was afraid.
I don't want to hurt you.
You won't. I'm healed. I want to touch you. I have to ...
He nuzzled the soft, creamy skin under her ear. You're sure?
The doctor said at least six weeks. I'm so afraid of ...
The doctor isn't Chanku. He had no idea how quickly I would heal. Shifting seems to have sped things along. Those runs in the afternoon have been very therapeutic ... and they've left me terribly needy. She kissed the soft skin between his neck and shoulder, ran her tongue along his jawline and then nipped his chin. Lily won't stay asleep for long, my love. You're wasting time. I need you. Anton ... my love. I need you so badly and I love you so much.
Chuckling, Anton rolled over on top of her and found his favorite spot between her thighs. He rested the smooth crown of his erection atop her soft mound of silky curls and sighed with the profound feelings she gave him. "You've convinced me," he whispered. He leaned close and kissed her. His lips slipped over the soft, slick surface of Keisha's mouth, his tongue traced the seam between upper and lower lip, parting her slowly, deliberately. When he fucked her with his tongue, sliding deep inside her mouth and then slowly withdrawing, she groaned. The sound welled up from her throat and vibrated against his lips.
He felt her fingers tracing the length of his hip and lifted when she sought a path between their bodies. It was Keisha who grabbed the pulsing length of his cock, Keisha who directed him to the hot, slick entrance of her sex.
She lifted her hips and seated Anton inside, surging up against him with a powerful thrust that drove his cock deep, and deeper still until he pressed his sensitive tip against the mouth of her womb.
Anton kissed her, long and hard, his body trembling with the need to move, his desire for Keisha a physical, almost painful reminder of how deeply he loved, how easily he feared.
This was the first time since Lily's birth, the first time since almost losing his beloved mate when their plane had gone down on the way to Luc and Tia's wedding. Had it only been a month ago?
He shuddered, suddenly overcome with emotion. His body stilled. Keisha's long fingers spread across his buttocks, pulled him close and directed him to move again. When he hesitated, she rolled him to his back. Taking the uppermost position, she straddled him. Her knees pressed tightly against his hips. She rocked lightly against him.
"I love you," she said, smiling broadly. Her eyes sparkled and Anton knew her tears hovered as closely as his. "How do I convince you I'm not made of spun glass?" She leaned down and kissed him, her tongue boldly slashing between his lips, her hips thrusting forward, driving his cock deep. Her mind opened wide, spilling the sense of Anton sliding through hot, tight flesh.
He groaned at the exquisite pain from so much sensation, so much heat and life wrapped around his cock. He experienced everything Keisha felt, all of her sensations, her feminine arousal doubled over in layers upon his own experience. Her muscles rippled along his cock at the same time he sensed the pressure against his womb, the slow scrape of thick muscle sliding over his clit.
His breath caught as a bolt of heat flared from the small of his back to the taut sac between his thighs, a roiling, flashing slice of pleasure verging on pain. His muscles locked, his back arched and he exploded upward, filling Keisha with burst after boiling burst of ejaculate.
He groaned and tried to hold it back, but it was too late. He'd not expected to come so soon. Had hoped to make this last for her, but now he felt the grasp of her sex, the tight, rippling clench of those deliciously feminine muscles holding him deep inside. Waves of pleasure, Keisha's pleasure, swept over and around him. He sensed her love—so profound, so powerful, it left him shaken. His hands trembled as he brushed the tangled, sweat-dampened hair away from his true love's face.
She looked down at him with an expression of unimaginable bliss. Tears streaked her dark face. The hand she used to brush the dampness from his cheeks trembled as badly as his own. "There are no words," she said. "No words to express how I feel. What you do to me. For me."
I know. He pressed her palm over his heart, covering her long, slim fingers with his. Touched her heart with his free hand and knew they raced together, two hearts literally beating as one.
Keisha leaned forward and rested her cheek against his chest. Her body sprawled loose and relaxed and she covered him with her warmth and her delicious feminine scent. Listening to the soft, baby sounds of their daughter in the small crib beside them, Anton put away his worries and gently followed Keisha into sleep.
Stefan Aragat checked the refrigerator first, sighed softly and then shut the door. The cupboards were filled, but there was nothing that didn't require some form of cooking skill if he wanted a meal. He went back to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer and popped the top off the bottle with a practiced flip of his thumb.
Xandi walked out into the kitchen with little Alex snug in a fabric carrier slung over her shoulder and across her breasts. She was absolutely lovely this morning, in spite of the fact neither of them had gotten much sleep. As tiny as he'd been at birth, their son seemed to think he had to nurse nonstop to add the weight everyone wanted him to gain.
Xandi leaned close and kissed Stefan. "Beer for breakfast?"
He laughed. "Nothing else to eat. We're even out of coffee. I can justify it. There's malt, yeast ..."
Xandi laughed, took the bottle from his hand and poured it in the sink. Stefan merely shook his head and sighed.
"I take it Oliver's not back yet." She tossed the bottle in the recycling bin, opened the refrigerator, stared for a long moment and obviously saw the same empty shelves. "I hate to say it, but if we want to eat today, we really need to make a run into town. Either that, or one of you mighty hunters needs to shift and go kill something."
"We can always live on love." Stefan pulled her into a loose embrace that included baby Alex. Xandi's dark green caftan shimmered and flowed around her body, hiding the curves left slightly rounded from her pregnancy. The shape of her nipples showed through the fine silk. Stefan leaned down and suckled one through the fabric. "I assume the beast has been fed?"
Xandi pulled away and kissed Stefan hard on the mouth. "Of course he has. He got there first, but if you do that again you're going to get a mouthful of warm milk."
Stefan ran one finger over Xandi's nipple. "At least I won't starve."
She laughed and untied the baby carrier. Then she handed their sleeping son to Stefan. "Sorry, big guy. It's all reserved for the current and future reigning king."
"I never thought I'd be deposed by a five-pound pooping machine." Muttering, Stefan carried his son to the rocker in the corner of the kitchen. There were two of them, placed side by side so the new moms could sit and nurse their babies together. Settling back in the comfortable old oak rocker, Stefan watched Xandi scrounge around the kitchen. She found enough ingredients to make up sausage, biscuits, and gravy for breakfast.
She was right, though. Once Anton and Keisha woke up, they'd really have to make a trip into town. He and Anton could hunt if they had to, but the girls couldn't shift and leave the babies behind, which meant whatever they killed would have to be butchered and prepared for human consumption.
Generally, that was Oliver's job. The little guy was one hell of a cook, and had no problem at all preparing fresh game. Stefan smiled to himself, thinking of the role Anton's personal assistant played in all of their lives. So much had changed since Stefan and Anton had become parents, but one thing remained the same—Oliver'd only been gone for three days on some errand for Anton and his well-organized system was falling apart.
Alex snorted, stretched, and went back to sleep. Well, not falling apart entirely. In fact, Stefan thought, settling back with his sleeping son on his chest, he couldn't imagine his life ever feeling more together. He closed his eyes to the sound of his mate humming to herself as she cooked breakfast, and the soft puffs of his son's steady breathing. Awash in a powerful sense of well-being, Stefan slowly rocked, his mind caught in a lazy vortex of memories as he contemplated how far he'd come since his life as a beast.
"There's a nice, clean mattress in the camper. Sure you don't ...?"
Adam Wolf shook his head and reached for the door handle. The pickup with its dented camper shell rumbled and smoked. He could have told her the tailpipe was about ready to fall off, but that wasn't his concern.
The buxom blonde in the driver's seat raised an eyebrow. "Well, then ..." She sighed. "Hope you don't mind if I drop you off here. That's my turnoff. The old man'll be waiting." She nodded toward a narrow side road angling away from the two-lane highway, then reached out and pressed her warm palm against his thigh. Her fingers brushed the line of his partially erect cock. "We coulda had a real good time."
"I'm sure we could have." He smiled and thought, instead, of the woman of his dreams ... if he could call her a woman. He'd never really had a clear visual of her, but she'd always appeared as something other. That was the only way he could describe her, but she'd been there, with him, sharing his nights for so long.
Where was she tonight? He glanced at the dark blue sky. Night was falling and it was damned cold for June. He felt like some kind of fool, turning down what was so freely offered, but ... not tonight. "Well, thanks. I appreciate the lift ... and the view." He winked, smiled, and nodded in the direction of her well-exposed cleavage.
The blonde tittered and held her fingers over her ample bosom. Her hand did more to emphasize the dark cleft between her full breasts than hide anything. Adam grabbed his beat-up duffle out of the bed of the truck and stepped back from the road. The blonde waved and the vehicle skidded when she punched the gas. She fishtailed into the turn and disappeared down the narrow country lane, spewing black exhaust out of the damaged pipe.
"Well, fuck." Adam looked both east and west along the empty highway and started walking west, the same direction he'd been traveling. He could have gone either way. He had no destination in mind. If he hadn't figured out the woman was going home to a husband and kids, he might be sleeping in a warm bed between warm thighs, his head pillowed on those exceptionally warm looking breasts. It wouldn't be his first night on an old mattress in the back of a pickup truck, and if the company was right ... Just his luck to get a ride from a gal with commitments, whether she recognized them or not.
He heard a car coming up behind him and automatically stuck out his thumb without turning around. Appearing anxious for a lift never helped, but he was beginning to shiver beneath his lightweight jacket. Night would be falling soon.
The classic Ford pickup that passed him looked absolutely cherry, but it sounded like shit. Adam recognized the make and model immediately despite the new black paint with the immaculate chrome bumper and darkened windows. It was a 1951 Ford F-1, a beautiful old machine that appeared lovingly restored, but something under the hood knocked and sputtered and then just quietly died. When the vehicle coasted to a stop some fifty yards ahead of him and well off the side of the road, Adam wasn't sure if the driver had stopped on purpose or not. Just in case someone was offering a ride, he trotted the short distance and reached for the passenger door.
It opened before he grabbed the handle. Adam stopped in his tracks and bit back a grin. The driver certainly wasn't what he'd expected. The man's skin was dark and smooth, his hair slicked down and perfectly combed. He wore an immaculate navy blue suit, a far cry from the typical rough-hewn rancher in this part of the state.
"Good evening." The driver spoke in perfectly clipped English. His voice was soft, a bit high pitched. "I would offer you a ride but my vehicle appears to have chosen this spot to stop working. You're welcome to wait inside where it's dry, however."
"Thank you, but it's dry out here."
The little man nodded and smiled. "Not for long. My name is Oliver. Please, get in."
Before Adam could answer, the first drops of rain caught him. He glanced up. The sky had been cloudless just minutes ago. Now, black clouds roiled overhead. Oliver scooted back to the driver's seat. Adam tossed his bag inside and climbed into the beautiful old truck. "Adam Wolf," he said, holding out his hand.
Oliver took his in a firm grasp and shook hands, but he held on just a bit longer than expected. Adam felt as if the man saw something in him, something even Adam didn't recognize. Stranger things had happened in his thirty-six years but this brief interlude carried a sense of the surreal about it. The odd little man, the vintage truck, the storm that hadn't even been on the horizon—for a moment it left him feeling disoriented and out of sync, almost as if life had conspired to put him in this place at this time.
Maybe there was another reason he'd turned down the buxom blonde. A shiver rolled across his spine as Oliver released his grasp. Adam shook off the simmering unease and leaned back against the rich leather upholstery, his mind spinning lazy circles around the odd sensation of destiny. He glanced at the thick sheets of rain falling outside and relaxed. At least he'd be warm and dry while he waited out the storm and tried to figure out why he was here, now, in this beautiful old truck with this odd little man.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Wolf Tales 5.5 by Kate Douglas Copyright © 2008 by Kate Douglas. Excerpted by permission of Kensington Publishing Corp.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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