“Lucien needs a kick in the ass,” Falon said.
“That, too. But—” Talia’s violet eyes implored her. “For the sake of Mondragon, it is imperative you stand united with Lucien. If you don’t, the pack will lose their confidence in him as alpha, and that cannot happen under any circumstance.”
“Where is your loyalty to Rafael?”
“My loyalty is to the Lycan nation first, Lucien and Rafael second.”
“If I leave here, Lucien cannot force me to stay away from Rafa.”
“You are wrong, because until he releases you completely, you belong to him. He will never release you if he thinks you will return to Rafa.”
“Then I am still a prisoner, am I not?”
“Choose to stay and your prison will be a happier place.” She opened the door and said over her shoulder. “Dinner is about to be served. Come down as soon as you’re dressed.”
“I need to wash Lucien off me first,” Falon yelled at the closed door.
Grabbing the clothes she wanted to wear, Falon yanked open the bathroom door and strode in. She stopped half a step in. Lucien stood with his back to her under one of the two showerheads in the walk-in shower stall. No door for privacy. Not that she minded the sight. He was something to behold. The muscles in his back rippled beneath the red-and- black tattoo.
It was unusual in that it was a hybrid of a wolf and a dragon. The main body of a wolf wrapped around his torso with a howling dragonhead up his shoulder and the fire-breathing snout halfway around his neck. Lucien raised his arms above his shoulders and rubbed shampoo into his thick black hair. When wet, his hair reached just past his wide shoulders. Falon swallowed as her gaze swept down the corded muscles of his back to his tight ass. His legs were long, straight, and muscled. As her gaze rose, he turned.
She gasped. He was erect, and she swallowed again. The tail of the wolf had a dragon spear-tip tail. The wolf head wrapped around his neck but the dragon tail wrapped around his narrow waist to his belly and straight down to his— She’d never seen a tattoo on a man’s private parts or a cock piercing. Heat rose in her cheeks.
Her gaze traveled up from his arrogant erection to his taut belly to his wide, defined chest. Soapy suds slid lazily down the hard, defined planes to his belly, sluicing around his erection in slow, foamy waves. His hand slid down his chest to the root of his penis. Lucien grabbed himself and slowly stroked his erection until it turned angry and red.
Look at me, he commanded.
Falon’s chest rose and fell in quick harsh puffs. She shook her head, afraid he would mesmerize her with his eyes and make her do something her heart did not want her to do.
Refusing to be sucked in by him, Falon set her clothing on the long slate vanity, then stripped his clothes from her body. She turned toward Lucien, who stood unmoving in the middle of the large stall, watching her. She would prove to them both that she could resist his carnal call. Chin high, she stepped into the shower. She heard his hiss of breath as she stepped past him, her thigh brushing against his. Falon steeled herself. The contact was like an electrical shock. Turning her back on him, she stood beneath the other showerhead and drenched herself. She reached past Lucien, who had not moved, and grabbed the shampoo from the slate inset. Her left breast brushed against his chest.
“Play with fire, Falon, and you will go up in flames,” he warned.
She smiled, liking the control she had over him. She pushed the envelope more. Turning around, she faced him, catching and holding his hot gaze. Lifting her hands, she squeezed the shampoo onto her head. Back arched she closed her eyes, dug her fingers into her scalp, and scrubbed.
Furnace-grade heat radiated off Lucien. She felt his desire, his want, his battle not to throw her against the shower wall and take her. Then visualized him doing just that. She tried to think of Rafael, but she could not quite conjure his image. Not with his brother so close.
Lucien snarled beside her. Her eyes flew open. Eyes blazing furiously, he moved within inches of her. Falon stepped back, he stepped forward until her back hit the wall. Whatever it was between them was strong. Because despite her love for Rafael, and her powers, powers she would not hesitate to use, she felt every bit the submissive female to Lucien’s dominant male.
“You cannot will me to want you,” she said, pressing her palms against the slate wall behind her.
Lucien put his hands on either side of her head and leaned into her until she felt the throb of his body heat. “I don’t have to.”
“You swore you would not touch me—”
“I swear a lot of things.” He stepped back from her, then rinsed off. He strode from the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack and said over his shoulder, “I’m hungry; hurry up so we can eat.”
I'm over at Murder She Writes today! C'mon on over! K*
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