Read Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures Online
Authors: Camille Anthony
He hadn’t known of Karel’s presence. His cousin would have felt the same attraction he had. Angered and thrown off balance, Pavel grabbed Kaila’s arm and practically dragged her behind him out the door and into a smaller office down the corridor.
“Hey! Let me go! Take your hands off me.”
He released her and turned to shut the door behind them, closing them off from any
interference. Once their privacy was assured, he turned back, but leaned against the door with his hands behind him. The way he felt right then, he feared he’d do something
regrettable if he didn’t keep them shackled.
54 Camille Anthony
She stood in the middle of the room, hands fisted at her side, so mad her eyes spit
sparks at him. She shook one fist in his face. “You don’t put your hands on me like that. And you sure as shit don’t snatch me behind you like a sack of potatoes.”
Ignoring her irate posturing, he cut right to the heart. “When did you meet my cousin and how would you know he wanted to fuck you?”
“Karel?” Her soft smile drove him crazy with jealousy. How dare she smile while
thinking about another wulf!
“Yes, Karel!” His voice rumbled low and menacing, the growl so close to the surface it distorted his words. Rickard he could trust, after a fashion. He wasn’t so sure about Karel.
“Tell me.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her impressive chest.
He glared at her.
She glared back.
Cursing under his breath and running agitated fingers through his hair, Pavel swung
away, breaking eye contact. One more minute of staring into her shining gaze and animated face would have been his downfall. He was one breath away from sweeping the papers and phone off the desk and throwing her across it, spanking her ass, and slamming into her pussy.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw she hadn’t moved from her stubborn position.
“Don’t push me, woman!”
Her brows rose. “I’m not the one who dragged someone away from the food, buddy.”
She stalked toward him, stopping just shy of touching. “You’re making me miss the feasting.
Like you said, this is my last chance to party and I still have a lot of people I wanted to meet.”
“Kaila, just tell me what passed between you and my cousin…don’t make me ask you
again, please. This is very important to me.”
“Why?” She canted her head, watching him warily. “Other than ogling me in the
restaurant, you never made any move to get to know me.”
He saw no reason to withhold the truth from her. “I was forbidden to contact you or
attempt to find out who you were.”
“Forbidden by whom?” Her eyes sparked with growing ire. “What kind of man are you
to let someone tell you who you can or cannot pursue?”
Pavel raked his fingers through his already mussed hair, fighting the urge to howl. “To answer both your questions, I am Captain of the Royal Guard, charged with the safety and well being of my prince. Rickard commanded me to keep my distance.”
“And you do everything Rickard says…even when it’s about something this personal?”
“I know that may seem strange to you. Americans have no concept of the feudal relationships involved with a monarchy or principality.”
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“Hey, don’t you insult my country. We may not have a royal family, but we do read.
What do you think we Americans are…a bunch of uncivilized monkeys?”
If you only knew… Pavel hid a smile. One of the derogatory names his people called
humans was dirt monkeys.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You Americans are civilized as a whole. But you cannot argue the fact that you abolished royal rule here during the American Revolution. Kings and princes are merely visiting dignitaries, not the word of law among your people.”
She nodded, giving him the point. “I see that, yes. So, what you’re trying to say is, Rickard can tell you what to do, whom to fuck, and all that?”
Her sarcasm didn’t escape him. Pavel raised his gaze toward the ceiling. “More than
that, he can deny me the right to marry where I choose.”
She looked aghast. “Sounds like you guys need to have a revolution of your own. No
one should be able to dictate another’s choice like that.”
Pavel shrugged. “On the whole, Rickard is a good prince. He works hard at not
overstepping his limits.”
“Doesn’t sound to me like he has any.” She snorted. “It must be nice to be king.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest as he answered. “He’s a ruling prince, not a king, and
there are a few limits to his power. The old days of Droit de Seignior are gone. With one exception, he can no longer claim the marriage night of newlyweds.”
He laughed louder as her jaw dropped. “And he will not ignore one of his men’s prior
claims to a woman.”
She sobered quickly. “Speaking of claiming…what did Karel and Rickard mean when
they said you’d placed a prior claim on me?”
Pavel cleared his throat. “They said that?”
“They did.” She licked her lips, adding a natural sheen to their plump surface.
Pavel groaned. If she does that again, I’m going to lose it, throw that plump ass on the desk, and devour those lips…then feast on the lips lower down.
Deciding on the better part of valor, he grabbed up her hand and retreated toward the door. Her futile tugs against his hold barely registered on his more than human strength.
“Now where are you dragging me?” She dug her heels in, pulled…and shrieked when
her feet left the ground as he tugged back.
Twisting agilely, he reeled her in against his chest, and immediately though reluctantly set her away from him. “I’m taking you back to the reception hall. As you pointed out, you are missing the feast.”
“What? All of a sudden you don’t want to know if Karel and I did the featherbed jig?
You mean you don’t want to hear how Rickard and I fucked like Easter bunnies?”
“No.”
56 Camille Anthony
That seemed to stump her. “Why not? A minute ago you were foaming at the mouth,
demanding I tell you everything.”
“Once either of them mentioned my claim to you at all, they would never violate it.”
He could almost see her mind turning over what he’d said. Finally, she heaved a sigh.
“What about my questions? Are you ever going to give me some answers?”
“Yes, but not tonight --” He thought about his hopes for the evening and rectified his statement. “-- at least, not until much later tonight.”
“Oh, that’s not fair!”
He escorted her through the door, his hand on the small of her back, absorbing the
heat rolling off her flesh. Keeping his voice low, he spoke near her ear, his words meant for her only. “Tomorrow you see the doctors and undergo tests that will confirm the treatment modality geared especially for you. Tonight is for mingling.” He gave her bottom a push.
“Mingle.”
She took a step away then turned to confront him. “What if I don’t want to mingle
anymore? What if I want those answers you’re withholding?”
Instead of answering her, he changed the subject. “Tomorrow, when I give you a
directive and you question me, I’ll have the right to punish you.”
She reared back. “What? Where in the rules does it say that?”
Pavel tried to keep a straight face as he caught her shoulders and steadied her, kept her from falling over. His lips twitched as he recalled the restaurant and the feel of her cushy, full-cheeked bottom nestled in his lap. If he had his way, he’d soon be palming that sweet ass again. He took heart, hopes rising when she didn’t pull away immediately.
“C’mon, Pavel…admit you made that up.”
He chuckled, imagining his next words would anger her. He couldn’t wait to see the
passion in her explode again. Kaila lit up like Roman candles; her emotions flared high and bright. Pavel couldn’t wait to burn up in her passionate flames.
“On the contrary, my dear, allow me to recite the pertinent phrase from the list of rules I passed out this afternoon -- the same list posted on the inside of every client’s door. Rule three under the Client’s Conduct section clearly states: ‘Clients must obey the instructions of their trainers at all times. If, in the client’s estimation, the instructions are illegal or the client believes they may prove potentially injurious to their health, the client may address their concerns to the director.’” He smiled directly in her eyes, biting back a laugh at the fire sparking in the depths of her brown pupils. “As the director, I will, of course, diligently investigate your claim…before denying it.”
Kaila shrugged his hand off her shoulder. “See, that is so wrong! You act so arrogant, but lucky for you, I know you’re just pulling my leg. Besides, if you try that shit on me I’ll kick you so hard you’ll think your balls are tonsils.”
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For the second time that night, Pavel burst out into laughter. He chuckled even harder at the expression of disgust on her pretty face. She had no idea how rare his laughter was, didn’t realize she’d already made major strides in conquering him.
Ignoring the astounded glances from the staff, he made an effort to gain enough control to bring his guffawing to an end. Drawing close, invading her personal space, he drove his tongue into her ear before whispering, “Weak women bore me. Your little announcement
has only served to make my cock hard. I do so love the idea of domming a strong woman.
Grrrrrrow!”
“Did you just growl at me?” A flush of pink rushed across Kaila’s cheeks, painting her brown skin in glowing warm hues.
He brushed the back of his hand against the heated skin and teased softly, “Hey, I
thought black women didn’t blush.”
Kaila shrugged Pavel’s hand off her cheek and pushed herself out of his loose embrace.
“Well you thought wrong. We do. Most white folk just don’t see it. It’s like all of you thinking we blacks look alike.” Kaila wiped her ear with the side of her hand. “And hey, could you keep that slimy tongue out of my ear? God, you’re slobbering all over me!”
Pavel smirked. She’d liked his tongue in her ear…maybe too much. He could smell her
arousal steaming off her skin. “Sure --” He raised his hands, signaling surrender, planning anything but. “-- as long as I can put it in another place of my choosing.” He sent his bold gaze down her front, skimmed over her full bust line and the dipped indention at her waist.
His eyes darkened, gaze resting on her pelvic area. “My tongue likes things a lot hotter, tighter, and wetter than ears.”
She opened her mouth -- he guessed to yell at him -- closed it, and then opened it
again. “Are you supposed to be making all these sexual innuendos and talking to me like this?
Aren’t you violating some client/trainer rule or something?”
Pavel closed his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her. She was so good for him, her reactions keeping him amused and aroused. “You haven’t registered the name of this place, have you? Sated Pleasures.” He spread his hands. “Darling, does it sound like anything is against the rules?”
“So you can tease me like this, and it’s okay?” She sounded disbelieving.
He dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “Baby, I can and will fuck you bowlegged
and there are no rules against anything we choose…as long as it is what we both wanted. All you’ll ever have to do is ask!”
58 Camille Anthony
Tart Lemonade
Good gracious, but the man is bold as brass and moving way too fast for me. Kaila
placed a hand to her belly and pressed, striving to contain the muscles jumping beneath her clammy skin. From the time he’d snatched her out of the main room, she’d been riding a rollercoaster of lust.
Pavel was nothing like his cousin and his prince. Karel’s advances had been slow, soft, so mild she hadn’t even seen them coming. Rickard, used to getting his way and impatient with her timid responses, had been a whirlwind, unsettling her, yet leaving her itching under her skin. Rickard had only been half-right when he claimed she wanted him against her will. She hadn’t wanted him at all until he’d worked hard at making that happen.
Pavel Janecek -- the green-eyed male siren -- made her want him with just a word, a
glance, and a smile. If Karel was a vanilla cream soda and Rickard a root-beer float, Pavel was the tart lemon in fresh lemonade, the thirst quenching drink that made a person jones for one more sip.
She’d never been one to confuse caution with cowardice, and decided now was a good
time for a strategic retreat. Scooting away on the pretense she needed something to drink, she grabbed the first thing at hand. Sighing in relief, she closed her fingers around a glass tumbler filled with a frosty, fruity concoction. Her first sip confirmed the drink was as delicious as it looked.
“Running away is not the answer. It only makes me want to chase you. A warning, Kaila…don’t bring out the hunter in me unless you’re ready to become my prey.”
With a start, Kaila swept around at Pavel’s gravelly statement. She hadn’t heard him
sneak up on her.
Glancing up into his blazing eyes, she barely suppressed a shiver. Was it a trick of the light, or did his pupils glow with a phosphorescent sheen? Before she could take a closer Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures
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look, he shifted, reached around her for a cup, and the impression faded. When he glanced back at her, she saw they were just eyes -- beautiful eyes, yes…eyes to drown in, even -- but still just eyes.
“You know --” She cleared her throat. “-- contrary to what you might think, I am a
very slow mover. I don’t…um…usually sleep with guys I don’t know.”
His knowing light-green gaze bore into hers. That mobile mouth quirking, Pavel
propped a hip against the side of the overloaded table, crossing both his arms and legs in an indolent stance. “What a wonderful coincidence. I don’t usually sleep when I’m with a beautiful woman. We can keep each other wakeful company after which I guarantee you’ll know everything you need to know about me -- both historically and biblically. For