One Last Prowl: BBW Were Mountain Lion Shapeshifter Mail Order Bride Romance (Shifter Grove Brides Book 6) (7 page)

BOOK: One Last Prowl: BBW Were Mountain Lion Shapeshifter Mail Order Bride Romance (Shifter Grove Brides Book 6)
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“She demanded I take her home and I tried to, starting the car in that damn rain again. I should have stopped and talked to her, but I thought it would be better if I gave her a bit of time to cool off, get her to her family. But the storm was so bad that the roads were horrible and a few minutes later, a driver trying to pass us by—thinking he was impervious to the rain—ended up careening into my truck and sending us rolling over on the roof four times. Amelia flew out of the truck along with the seat. I got a concussion and five broken ribs that were better by the next morning. There wasn’t anything I could do by the time I came to,” he finished, his voice dying into a whisper.

Before he noticed that she had even stood up, Dahlia was at his side, wrapping her hands around his wide shoulders. She pulled his head to her and he rested it on her shoulder, taking a few deep, soothing breaths. Whenever he actively thought about Amelia, his world would crumble a bit. But when it had completely collapsed and taken everything down with it before, this time it was just a tremor, the deep-set pain of a time long past.

Subdued were the sickening, harassing pangs of guilt that had kept him clinging to any vice he could find for ten years. Before, every time he talked about her or spent more than a second thinking about the love he had lost, he would be a mess for days and weeks, if not more. But with Dahlia there, it was like her touch was healing and his lungs filled with air again.

“It was my fault,” he said quietly. “That’s my secret.”

“You couldn’t have changed a thing. Whether you’d told her or not that night, the outcome would have been the same. We can’t fight fate,” Dahlia said softly, resting her forehead against Austin’s.

He took a deep breath, letting her scent fill his lungs. Somewhere deep within him, his big beast stirred, beckoned by her smell and the sensation of skin against skin. No one had managed to call to that mountain lion within him, that great predator who could rip limb from limb if needed. All the women he had been around over the years had perhaps only enticed the man in him, not the shifter, not the whole package. But here was Dahlia, with her soft-spoken ways, her delicate hands, and the way she fretted over every little thing. Even when he told her the most horrible thing he kept in his past, her presence still soothed him like sunshine on a rainy day. It was uncanny. He couldn’t lose it.

“Is that what you tell yourself as well?” Austin asked, pushing himself away from the table a bit so he could scoop Dahlia into his arms and pull her into his lap.

She snaked her hands around his neck, not fighting the intimacy. Warmth spread through Austin and he felt the cold grip of horrific memories slowly loosen around him, letting him struggle free toward the soft light that was Dahlia.

“Well, it’s always easier to preach than it is to live by the word, isn’t it?” she said, chuckling.

A shadow of sadness entered her eyes and Austin cursed himself for bringing it up. He hated seeing her worry for even a second, and the air was thick with his depressive thoughts already. He stroked his thumb over her cheek softly, making her smile a little.

“At least we don’t have to be broken alone, hmm?” he said casually, though the humor died in his voice.

She nodded in that tiny little way she had, barely a motion of her chin, just enough to make her long hair tumble over her shoulders and spill on her breasts. There was plenty left to be said between them, but for now, Austin enjoyed the silence. The tenseness of the words spoken evaporated as he sunk into Dahlia’s blue eyes and the predator within him came to life, seeing what he wanted and deciding to take it. There was plenty of time to be sad, angry, or confused, but right now, Austin demanded a taste of happiness.

And the only slice of joy he truly knew was sitting in his lap at that very moment.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dahlia

 

It started with a kiss, and a moment later her hands were latching onto Austin’s shoulders, her thighs were straddling him, and the delicious dinner was another thing forgotten in the wake of her need to fuck the ever-living shit out of him.

And she wasn’t a crude woman usually. But she really needed that man right then and there and there was nothing she was willing to do to change that.

“Austin,” she whispered feverishly, her nails digging into his flesh so hard she thought she’d rip through the shirt.

“Yes,” he murmured teasingly, his Herculean body rising up from the dining room chair and locking her legs around his waist like he’d never taken a step
without
her clinging to him.

“I need you to fuck me now,” she said, gasping at her own forwardness.

Oh my God, what am I saying…

But that bashful thought was brushed away as Austin growled his approval and grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing her buttocks. Moaning into his mouth, her tongue desperately entangled with Austin’s, Dahlia didn’t even care where he was taking her. For years and years, she had felt guilty for feeling any kind of desire. She’d admonished herself for appreciating the physique of a famous actor and avoided reading the steamy bits in romance novels because it felt like she was cheating on Arthur by doing it.

Yet, only when met with the possibility of finding true happiness again did she realize the one thing that seemed to have escaped her for five years. Arthur would have never wanted to see her unhappy, to keep herself locked away like a nun because life had decided to cut their love on earth short.

Caring for someone else would not lessen her love for him, nor change it. She had a heart big enough for not just one maddening love story in her years and she would be damned if she’d let this one slip out of her fingers.

Yes, there were other issues, issues she didn’t quite want to deal with yet. There was Marcus to consider, and he would always come first. And there was the fact that she didn’t live anywhere near Austin. Add Austin’s muddled past and a whole plethora of other problems, not the least of which was that even though rationally she knew it was all right, emotionally she still felt pangs of shame. There was plenty left to sort out.

Tomorrow,
she thought feverishly, kissing Austin again and again.
Just tonight, don’t think about it.

He carried her to his bedroom and when she was thrown on her back on the soft sheets, she grinned wide. Austin stood before her, calm, collected, and so,
so
scrumptious that Dahlia really had to consider the option that perhaps this was her heaven. She scurried up on her knees and scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling Austin’s shirt out of his pants and pushing it up until he pulled it off his hard, toned body.

Staring in amazement did not do him justice. She wanted to say something,
anything
, to tell him how good she thought he looked, but no words came over her lips. And how could they when she was already salivating with the need to taste and explore every dark ridge and dimple.

The lights were low in the bedroom, but not low enough that she couldn’t see every flex of muscle, every contour of flat planes and deep hollows between his ridged abs. He was not simply buff, but he had that hardness that came from a life of hard labor, joined with good genetics. While younger shifters looked almost too perfect, he had that jaggedness to him that marked real strength in place of simple size, and speed in place of useless pomp.

She had no doubt that he could wrestle a bear bare-handed and win, shifter or not.

And that, well… that made him incredibly mouthwatering.

Her hands were on his belt buckle when Austin pushed her down into the covers and covered her body with his, giving her the first taste of that wealth of muscle she had stared so admiringly at for days. Her nails raked his skin as his hand cupped her sex, pressing through the tough material of her jeans to feel her growing heat. He let out a guttural growl, fierce and demanding, and Dahlia just about evaporated on the spot.

God, he sounds good!

Her clothes were practically ripped off of her and Dahlia didn’t utter a peep of resentment against it. She was tugging at his belt while Austin was pulling off her pants, a plethora of hands and arms everywhere, cut with excited giggles and heavy breaths. He undid the clasp on her bra with ease and the delicate garment tumbled off of her, crumpled in the sheets. For the first time since their trek from the dining room, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.

She hadn’t been seen naked by a man ever, other than her late husband, and it was now years past since even that. What would he think? Was the swell of her breasts too heavy, the curve of her hips too wide? The softness of her belly…

“Fuck, you’re
gorgeous,
” he hissed, putting so much emotion in the words that they went straight to her core.

Flushed, she grinned and cupped his chin, pulling her back onto her.

“Then fuck me, Austin.”

She pushed his jeans and his boxers down his hips when Austin pushed aside the lace of her panties, sinking his fingers into her wet heat. Like the recoil of a gun, she sprang back, her back arching and her eyes closing tightly as he parted her lips, letting his fingers flick over her sensitive pussy.

“That’s so good,” she whined, biting her lower lip as he swirled his thumb over her clit and then dipped down, lapping at it with hunger.

She spread her legs willingly, giving all of herself to him, and enjoyed the feeling of utter bliss that was pulsing through her like hard liquor mixed with lightning. Every swirl of his tongue, every nip of his teeth had her teetering on edge, her body a lightning rod for every touch he could spare her. Fingers curling into his hair, she clutched him, bucking her hips into him with growing desire. Her nails scraped his skull and her body shook with shivers. It was everything she thought it could be, but had never dared to hope.

When he inserted two fingers, she couldn’t hold on any longer. In a maelstrom of wails and pleads, Austin all the while thrusting his thick digits into her wet slit, Dahlia gave into the orgasm. She grinded herself against him, lavishing in the deft motions of his tongue, and the occasional throaty groans he gave. Five years she had gone without the touch of a man, and five years this orgasm had been growing inside of her. When it wafted over her and ultimately passed, she knew one thing—she wanted more.
Now
.

Gasping for breath, Dahlia watched as Austin rose from his spot between her legs, licking his lips and grinning like he knew something she didn’t. Her eyes were hazed over with the aftershocks of that tidal wave that had shaken her so thoroughly, but that sleepy warmth dissipated immediately when she saw the rigid length of his massive cock.

“Fuck me,”
she gasped, as much an invitation as a statement.

“Don’t you worry about that, I will,” he said, shucking those pants off for good and tearing Dahlia’s panties off her hips with a satisfying rip.

She pulled his face to hers and assaulted his lips as Austin settled between her legs. The head of his cock rubbed against her sensitive lips, but she bucked and grinded against him eagerly, coating him with her juices. He was big and thick and she wanted every inch as hard and fast as he could give it to her.

When he pushed her down against the mattress by her hips and kissed her with the kind of violent need reserved for couples having longed for each other for decades, Dahlia shook with anticipation. That first moment when he thrust into her, slowly, so slowly, just about turned her world upside down. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she pressed her body against his hard planes, clinging to him breathlessly as he filled her with his length.

Her mind spun as Austin pulled back, a strained groan on his lips from holding back, and then stroked forward again. She hid her face into his shoulder, her nails digging into his back with growing fervor, as he began plowing into her. Each motion went deeper, stretching her wider and bringing that delicious pain along with excruciating pleasure that shook her universe.

She was faintly aware that she was mewling out little murmurs that could have been words, or prayers, or moans, but none of it mattered. When he sunk into her to the hilt, giving her that feeling of fullness that she’d longed for, her body relaxed and tensed around him at the same time. Relaxed, because they were finally one. And tensed because she couldn’t wait for more.

With a casual flip, though Dahlia could feel the steady, heavy thump of his heart beating through his chest, Austin turned them around so he was on his back and she on top of him. Dahlia stared down at him, whimpering softly from the way his cock filled her even better when she was on top. Austin’s hazel eyes, usually filled with that devilish fire, now burned a different hue. A deep amber glinted back at her, his predatory side close to the surface, so near that she could almost touch it.

His hands traveled up her belly and cupped her bountiful breasts, thumbs rolling over the tight nubs of her nipples. With a sigh, Dahlia leaned back and started grinding on him slowly, letting her hips rise and fall to the beat of their shared heartbeat. She felt every little movement clearly, every spasm and grunt ran right through her and joined with her own intense pleasure. This was exactly like it had to be. Exactly like she’d hoped but not dared to dream.

“You’re beautiful, Dahlia,” he said, that deep baritone engulfing her.

She smiled and for once, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind. Of course he meant it. And if he meant it, she had no reason to doubt him. She picked up the pace, starting to ride him harder, until he grabbed her hips and took over for her. With a yelp, Dahlia fell on his chest as Austin raised her up and started pounding into her wild and fast.

Her core pulsed as he drilled into her, their conjoined moans creating the perfect cacophony for a night neither one of them thought they would ever get. Being in the arms of someone who
gets it
. And not only gets it, but has lived through it as well, and is ready for another chance.

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