Hunting Season: Werewolf Bodyguard Romance (Guarded by the Shifter Book 1) by Kate Rudolph (new reading TXT) 📗

hands raked down her side and he cupped one of her breasts, stroking her nipple with his thumb. She loved the feel of his hands on her and needed more.

Did she have to beg?

Before she could make a noise, his other hand found her entrance and his fingers teased her wet heat, dipping inside and stretching her, making her ready for him.

"Fuck," she groaned. And then something occurred to her. "Fuck! Condom."

Owen stopped moving for a moment and Stasia almost told him to forget about it. She was on birth control, they could take their chances. But after the day they'd had, they didn't need any more surprises.

Luckily, Owen had restocked his wallet and after a minute he was suited up and ready for more.

There was no hesitation now, no concern for yellow eyes or his wolf rising to the surface. Stasia trusted Owen and knew he'd never hurt her. It was freeing to give herself over to that trust and watch him unleash.

They came together with a desperate ferocity and the sounds they made were completely feral. Stasia had never sounded like that in bed before, but Owen brought the intensity out of her and made everything more.

He entered her and they moved, and the pleasure mounted. Stasia was full to the core but she still wanted more. She couldn't quite say what more was as she held Owen tight and urged him on.

"I'm yours." The declaration was true deep down in her soul. She'd never be rid of this connection, this impossible bound that had sprung up between them. It was impossible to explain, deeper and truer than emotion.

Her body rippled around his as she came and Owen let out a roar of triumph as he joined her. Then his eyes flashed an even deeper yellow and his fangs got impossibly long.

She didn't have time to be scared as he bit down on her shoulder, marking her as his. She cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain as her vision went white and she passed out.

Chapter Thirty

"I'm fine, I promise. Stop looking at me like that." The mark that Owen had left on her shoulder wasn't nearly as bad as they feared. In fact, it was already mostly healed, and since Stasia's body still felt delightfully stretched from their lovemaking, she had a feeling there was some sort of magical bullshit contributing to it.

Her werewolf boyfriend bit her. She knew she should be freaking out. That was a freaking out kind of thing. But for some reason she wasn't.

Maybe her quota for freak outs had been used up, or maybe it was something else. She wasn't going to examine it too closely. She was going to consider a lack of panic a good thing for now.

"I'm not looking at it," Owen insisted. He was packing up a few things to take back to her apartment. There wasn't much. They hadn't intended to stay overnight in the first place.

Gibson had offered to let her stay in the safe house until everyone had a better idea of what was going to happen to her, but Stasia had a nice home just a few miles away and she would rather sleep in her own bed.

It had taken Owen and the rest of his pack three months to turn into werewolves; she wasn't going to stay in Brooklyn that long if she could avoid it. And there was half a chance she wouldn't turn into a werewolf at all. They didn't have a way to measure it, so all she could go on was instinct and her knowledge of her own body.

She was trying to decide if she felt any different. Her stomach felt a little upset, but the only meals she had eaten for the past day and a half were greasy fast food. Anxiety mixed with fat and grease was a particularly sickly combination. It was no sure sign of lycanthropy.

Stasia had finally gathered up the courage to look at the bite mark that Vega had left, and it was already healed enough to get rid of the stitches. She had taken them out herself without asking for help.

It was another sign that she was likely turning into a werewolf. An upset stomach could be anything. Healing from a wound that big so fast? There was nothing human about that. Was she dealing with the trauma by avoiding the possibility? Yes. But she figured she had at least a few days—maybe months—to get her mind wrapped around the situation.

She had put a fresh bandage over the bite just so it didn't raise questions from the other guys. Maybe it was stupid to keep that from them, but she was entitled to a bit of stupidity for at least a day. She hadn't even told Owen and knew he'd hold it against her, but she just needed a bit more time. He'd understand. Right?

Em knocked on the door and Owen answered it. "I need to take off," she said as she entered the room and got close to Stasia. She looked regretful. "My manager has been blowing up my phone. I was hoping I could buy a couple more days, but it doesn't look like it. Are you going to be okay? Because I will cancel the tour and do whatever I need if you want me to stay." Stasia recognized sincerity when she heard it, and Em meant every word she said.

But it wasn't something Stasia could ask of her. That tour cost millions of dollars and there were thousands of fans that would be disappointed if she backed out at this point. And that had nothing on what kind of speculation there would be in the press. She couldn't do that to her sister. "I'm doing fine. I will let you know if anything happens. I promise." It wasn't even a lie. Not exactly. She had no way to know what was happening or when.

"And she has me," Owen added. He was her silent watcher, done