|LONE WOLF, book 2 of the Maxey Wizards by Teresa D'Amario
Tease Publishing LLC.
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Once the victim of scientific experimentation by the Government Control of Supernatural Activities (GSA), Damon doesn't have a past, and he isn't sure he has a future. He doesn't even know if his ability to change from human to wolf is a virus, or magick.
But the instant he lays eyes on the pretty cop from the local
police force, he knows he has to learn the secrets of his past
before they destroy her future.
Krystal is the best animal cop on the police force, hiding
magickal talent beneath layers of excuses and quick thinking.
For five years she's tracked Peter Burke, a butcher who
steals any form of canine to supplement his dietary needs.
The day she saves a wolf from losing his head at the sharp end of an axe, her entire life changes. And then there is Damon, the mysterious, sexy ex-soldier with no memory of his past who awakens fantasies of dark and sensual nights.
But the GSA isn't finished with Damon, and when the shadowy
government agency joins forces with Burke, Krystal too finds her life in jeopardy, the target of men and women led by their own desires. Damon and Krystal must work together to stop evil and destroy years of illegal research. But can their budding love survive when experiments distort Damon's shifting skills, creating a monster?
Giving in to instinct, she licked her bottom lip, then teased it with the edges of her teeth, trying to ease the burning sensation of need. The need to press her mouth against his.
His eyes followed the motion. The sound of a soft growl rolled on the night’s breeze. Her body gave an unexpected shiver.
The wolf. The wolf must be able to smell them and didn’t like being left alone. Odd how the growl had echoed around them, giving the impression it had come from Damon.
She shook the thought away and motioned toward her door, breaking the connection of his gaze. “There’s my house.”
He turned and escorted her to the door, his arm never leaving her waist.
She searched for something to say, but the blood in her body was definitely not reaching her brain. They arrived at her door and she turned to face him. “Thanks for walking me home.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat.
He moved a step closer, crowding her against the hard, cold wood of her door.
“My pleasure,” he murmured.
The sounds of the night disappeared, with only the beat of her heart echoing in her ears. Damon’s molten eyes rested on her lips and he dipped close. Heat from his body burned every where he touched, filling her with an aching need deep in her very core. Her muscles turned liquid, waiting. Hoping. He leaned in, one hand rested on the door beside her head.
“Definitely my pleasure,” he murmured again. He nuzzled her cheek, the soft edge of the day’s beard brushed against her skin.
She tipped her head back, savoring the sensual touch, ignoring the shiver travelling through her body.
His breath feathered across her face, hot and inviting. His masculine scent rolled over her, the same as the wolf’s growl had. Low, soft. Hot.
He closed the last excruciating inches, and when his lips finally touched hers, she almost moaned with relief. His first touch was gentle. His mouth was hot, burning her with his soft, sensuous touch. She’d expected hot, maybe even hungry. This romantic, almost worshipful kiss destroyed her reason. A soft whimper rose in her throat filled with craving. More.
At long last, he opened his mouth, as though sipping a rare vintage wine. He tested, tasting. She groaned, opening to him, wanting more. His tongue delved in and his taste exploded inside her. Wild, masculine, hungry. Their tongues tangled in unison, and she tasted his power, his masculinity. It was a part of him, deep inside. A power she knew had to be magick. It swirled around her, inside her, stealing every vestige of her reason and breath. Her head spun, sensations exploding throughout her body. She arched toward him, needing, aching. One large hand burned at her waist while the other still rested on the door by her head.
More. Please more.
Her own magick pushed inside her, hungry to escape, to wrap him in its touch, to own him and mark him as hers. Mark him? Something about this kiss wasn’t normal, but her fogged brain couldn’t make out what it was. For this single moment in time he was her one and only reason for being. He was her breath, and her heartbeat. And she liked it. No, she loved it, and needed more.
Damon slid his hand from the door, tangling it in her hair, angling her head to go even deeper. He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but the instant he’d seen her teeth teasing her lip, he’d lost all control. Now, her heated body pressed against his, driving the animal inside of him wild. The more he touched her, the more the wolf inside growled, demanding more. Her taste drove him to the very brink of control, exploding along his taste buds, drugging him with an insane need to drink more of her. He felt her knees buckle and he yanked her close, her body now flush with his.
Mine. The thought whispered in his mind.
From him? Or the animal?
For the first time since he’d awakened in that dank cell, he wasn’t sure there was a difference.
Her scent wrapped around him, like a gentle mist. Soft and sweet, hardened with the sharp edge of desire. Her breasts pressed against his chest, teasing him with their softness, dragging a moan from his throat. She was so beautiful. So soft and feminine, her body molding to his as though built for him. He slid his hands down her back, cupping the soft muscles of her rear. He let his fingers tease and massage her, holding her close to him. He wanted more. He wanted to crawl inside her, to be a part of her. He wedged one knee between her legs, pushing her thighs apart. She moved willingly, groaning her desire when he pulled her tight against his thigh.
His lips left hers, trailing down her cheek, burying his lips against her neck. Yes, hissed the wolf instincts. His gums itched and his fangs descended. Damon tried to shove the instincts back, to fight his thirst for her kiss, the thirst for her taste. He scraped the tips of the canines against her flesh and she moaned, tipping her head back. Such sweet submission.
A growl rolled from his chest. Hunger twisted inside him as his lips closed over her throat. An image of his teeth slicing into that sweet flesh flashed in his mind, blood oozing from the wound. He needed her, wanted her, was starved for the sweet wine of her blood.
Horrified at the thoughts in his mind, he yanked away, releasing her so quick she stumbled against the door. He spun away, dragging his hands through his hair.