Tags:
Romance,
Literature & Fiction,
Fantasy,
Paranormal,
Adult,
threesome,
none,
Erotic Romance,
Werewolves & Shifters,
menage,
shape shifter,
mina carter,
Gargoyles
was taller than I was. What did surprise me was the fact that I was in the presence of a god, or at least the movie version of one.
Tall, dark and handsome didn’t cut it. Ice-blue eyes focused on me, zeroing in with the accuracy of a laser-sighting system. The ice warmed instantly, the blue flooding with heat as his gaze swept my body with a slow, assessing look.
Tingles ran riot over my skin, covering each inch after his warm gaze moved on. I squirmed, clenching my thighs together, needing to do something, anything, to try and ease the sudden, savage ache between them.
Heat swept over my cheeks. I forced myself to stand upright and look bored as I waited for him to look me in the eye again. Although short, my bust was big enough that the girls regularly held conversations with members of the opposite gender. So much so that I’d long since gotten past the whole clickey fingers ‘my eyes are up here, buddy’ thing. It got old, fast. These days I just waited for attention to return to my face. If it did, the guy was a keeper.
To his credit, he looked up within seconds, the assessment swift but full of interest as he stalked toward me. I back-pedalled instinctively, the automatic desire to retain my personal space warring with the need to get all up close and cosy with the lean hard body under the simple t-shirt and rugged cargo pants. He didn’t give me an option, determination in his eyes as he easily backed me up to corral me in a corner.
My shoulders hit the wall and I brought my hands up as an ineffective ward. The gasp that whispered around the silent office was mine, escaping from my throat as he walked right up to me until my hands rested against the solidness of his broad chest. I looked up, unable to turn away, unable to do anything as he dominated my world.
“Fuck me.” He paused, eyes searching mine as though looking for the answer to a question that had been bothering him for years. What it was, I had no clue, but pleasure and satisfaction displaced the heat for a second. “Or marry me. Then I get to fuck you lots.”
My hand moved on automatic, the loud crack of my palm contacting his cheek making me jump but he just grinned. Anger cancelled out any mortification I felt at the red mark over his face.
“Watch your language, young man. Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”
The grin grew broader, a white flash of teeth in the semi-darkness of the office, as his hand slid around my waist. With my hand on that side occupied by pushing at his chest to stop him pinning me with his body weight, I was all out of ways to stop him.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to fuck my mother, or marry her. But I’d sacrifice myself on the altar of marriage for one lick of your creamy cunt.”
I raised my free hand again but he was ready for me. His large hand wrapped around my wrist with a casual strength that stole my breath away and he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth in disapproval.
“Careful, sexy. All this rough stuff and I’ll think you’re trying to come onto me.”
“Stone! Put her down !”
The order from somewhere behind the wall of his broad shoulders made me jump. In the heat of the moment I’d forgotten where we were, and what I’d come here for in the first place, but the sound of my Casanova’s boss brought me down to earth with a bump.
Stone didn’t move, just looked over his shoulder at his boss, who I still couldn’t see. “Whatever she wants.”
I couldn’t help it. The snark just had to get out. Keeping it inside had to be unhealthy or something. If nothing else, I’d always been careful of my health. Shoving at the brick wall that was his chest, I lifted an eyebrow in my best ‘Oh really?’ expression.
“And what if I want a bottom for my bisexual male lover?”
He turned and looked down at me, the heat in his eyes reaching inferno level as the hand at my waist slid around my back. My pitiful pushing on his chest was no match for the strength in his
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