Tangled
Chapter 7
7 Lucas: Gala (III)
[WARNING: Mature content.]
LUCAS
My wolf howls in triumph as I stalk after the little blonde, keeping to the shadows of the garden. She’s oblivious to my presence, her attention focused on the phone in her hand. The glow of the screen illuminates her face, casting a soft light over her delicate features. I can see the reflection of its screen in her glasses, and find myself disappointed that the colors obscure those striking eyes of hers.
As I draw closer, I catch a whiff of her scent on the breeze. Honey and vanilla, with a hint of something else. Something that calls to me on a primal level. My wolf is practically salivating, urging me to close the distance between us and claim what’s mine. She must
not be my mate–my wolf would know at first scent- but she’s definitely something special.
I watch as she taps at her phone with a sense of urgency. A rideshare app, from the looks of it. Is she
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7 Lucas: Gala (1)
trying to leave?
The thought sends a surge of possessiveness through me. Like hell I’m going to let her slip away now that I’ve found her.
I move quickly, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. She doesn’t even have time to react before I yank at her arm, spinning her around to pull her against my chest, wrapping one arm around her waist. My hand settles possessively there, gently stroking at the dip before her hips begin to flare. Her skin is warm and tantalizing, even through the soft
fabric.
“Where do you think you’re going, little wolf?” I
murmur, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
She stiffens in my arms, and my wolf does not like that. “Let me go,” she demands, but there’s a tremor in her
belies
dark. “Now why would I do that? I’ve
trying to get a look at my face. “Who are
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head, nuzzling against the crook of her neck. Her scent is
me.”
Here. Rut her here. Don’t wait. Cover her
side of her neck, and I swear
my lips. Her quick little intake of breath seems to shoot straight down to my cock. It has been standing at attention all night, but now it’s harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life. Fuck, this woman
my displeasure at her words. But her hands, tiny delicate little things, with curious little
her. The Moon
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Gala (11)
agreement. Either that, or I’m delusional from every drag I take off this woman’s skin. At some point, my hands had crawled of their
time in approval, and she
1. me.
her
shoulder that seems to
It makes my wolf howl in fury, and I brush my
her pelvis against the tops of my thighs. Fuck, she’s tiny, even in
inches
of me realizes I should probably pull back. Be a gentleman. Introduce myself again with a lot less
her neck.
under her pert ass to lift her until the
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Lucas Gala
cock, hot and wet and welcoming behind the barrier of her panties. I can
squeezes.
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