Tangled

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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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

that belies her

that? I’ve been

get a look at my face. “Who

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her neck. Her scent is even stronger here, and I inhale deeply, letting it fill

me.”

Rut her here. Don’t wait. Cover her in our

scar on the left side of her neck, and I swear her scent is even stronger there. Giving in to temptation, I lick it in

her shiver, triumph curves 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

my displeasure at her words. But her hands, tiny

Rut her. The Moon blesses us.

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Either that, or I’m delusional from every drag I take off this woman’s skin. At some point, my hands had crawled

growl again, this time in

1. me.

the scar on her neck. In the dim light, I can just make out a

that seems to be covered

makes my wolf howl in fury, and

her closer, rubbing her pelvis against the tops of my thighs. Fuck, she’s tiny, even in those fuck–me heels she’s wearing. They have to add

three inches to her.

part of me realizes I should probably pull back. Be a gentleman. Introduce myself

her neck.

slide my hands under her pert ass

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Lucas Gala (III)

panties. I can feel it through my pants, especially when she wraps her legs around

squeezes.