Natasha

I left a shaky breath at the greatest folly I just committed. I talked to a stranger and then told him my real name. Maybe, I should have dashed out of the bar right now, but I don’t know what it was that kept me glued. I felt… attracted. Allured. Heavily. Something that has never happened in my life. Ever. 

I focused on my Martini like my life depended on it. Maybe it did. So, I sipped to stop myself from doing what I was about to do—steal another glance at him. But I looked anyway.

His eyes were haunting. It was as if they would gobble me up whole. Why did he freeze in his place after listening to my name? His throat bobbed. He got down from his chair. I relaxed because I thought he was leaving, but my relief didn’t last a second when he sat on the chair next to me. My heart throbbed so hard that I could listen to it in my head, feel the taste in my throat. 

His smell flooded my senses—woodsy and male musk. And that stole my breath away. Once Again. As if his personality wasn’t enough. I felt crazily drawn to him when I shouldn’t. Like a moth to a flame. 

“What did you say your name was?” he asked me in a low, dangerous growl. It was as if he was using all his restraint not to lunge at me and kill me. 

I bit my lower lip and repeated, “Natasha.” His terrifyingly attractive face made butterflies flutter violently in my lower belly. 

The grip on his glass tightened and it seemed that he was using every bit of his will not to break the crystal. A muscle feathered in his jaw Few moments later, when he regained control, he leaned back on the counter and asked, “Is that Martini more beautiful than me?” 

How arrogant! His mood fluctuated from fire to ice. He knew of the powers he held on women like a wild predator and he was using them on me. “Wow!” I said, maintaining a semblance of calm demeanor. 

He glared at me long and hard when I didn’t reply. Then he leaned over me and in his panty dropping voice said, “What do I have to do to grab your attention?” 

I could practically feel his breath over my nape and ears. My cheeks felt like a thousand suns. “N—nothing,” I blurted. “I am with my friends,” I added as if to say that I was not unprotected. I heard him swirling his scotch and sipping it. Now his breath was mixed with alcohol. I needed to get the fuck up and run away, but I found myself turning and staring at him. His face was merely a few inches close to mine. 

He tilted his head to my ears and whispered, “Do I look like I care about them?”

“Why?” 

“Because I want to do things to you,” he said as his lips brushed my ears, understanding my question. “Experiment you.” Heat pooled in between my thighs. I was about to combust if I didn’t leave. And that something inside me was still stirring crazily. 

“How do you know what I want?” I asked, getting the courage with all that alcohol in my system. 

“I know.” With his index finger of the hand with which he was holding his glass, he pushed my hair to the side and nibbled my nape, his fangs grazing my skin. My body became taut like the strings of a guitar. I wanted him to bite me. Wait. What?

“What do you do Natasha?” he asked, his lips against my heated skin.

“I work in a bakery.” I lied, icy shivers running down my body. My aunt had put me in the Black Moon’s high school because they couldn’t afford to homeschool me anymore due to time constraints. Since he didn’t seem like a high school student, I knew I could lie, because he would never find me again. My guess was that he was older, maybe in his thirties. 

“Hmmm.” His chest rumbled and that deep cello-like voice fell over my ears. My panties grew wet. Shit. Shit. I hoped he didn’t smell my arousal but that was just plain stupid, wishful thinking. As werewolves our olfactory senses were supernatural. He chuckled, leaned over my ear again and licked my earlobe. 

“What about you?” I asked, trying my best to lean away, but failing as hell. I wanted more. Why was this happening to me? For God’s sake, I was promised to Kevin. I should be a good she-wolf. His fingers touched my bare back lightly and excitement rolled off my skin. I was falling into Dante’s inferno. His touch made me ache for more. 

He laughed. “I look after my father’s business,” he replied, pulling away from me, and I stifled a reluctant cry. My gaze went back to him. His laughter was seductive, though it sounded slightly crazed. 

“Why are you laughing?” I asked and gulped down the entire Martini in one go. It hit my head. Two glasses down and that something which had stirred inside me, relaxed. 

He gazed into my eyes and said, “Because I am certain of one thing tonight.”

“What?”

“You will end up beneath me.” 

I jerked my head back as surprise blossomed in me. No one had talked this dirty with me before. He was messing with my mind, body and soul. I could feel how hot my cheeks were. I moved slightly to leave, but he caught my upper elbow. “Are you fleeing, sweetie?” He challenged me. 

Though I didn’t have too many memories of my younger self, I remembered someone challenging me to jump down from a tree, and I had jumped. I remember giggling against his shoulder when he caught me in his arms. I don’t know who he was, because his face had become hazy with time. 

“I am not,” I breathed and looked at Nicole who was nowhere to be seen. Shit. I should have known. 

“Then let’s see where this leads us, sweetie,” he said in a dominating voice that I wanted to submit to. He stood up and pulled me in front of him. 

I realized he was so tall and muscular in front of me. I practically reached his shoulders. He held my hand tightly and dragged me out of the bar. I followed him, entranced. 

Right now, we were standing in front of the Blue Sapphire Hotel, a seven star that was owned by the Alpha of the pack. We had recently moved here and the only thing that Nicole had warned me about was the Alpha’s sons. She had said that they were dark, filthy rich people with too many secrets. No one messed up with them. The hotel shouted of their wealth. It was a majestic building of black marble and tinted glasses. Well-manicured lawns sprawled all around it. 

When I stepped out of a private elevator, I saw only one giant door in the entire floor. It was the presidential suite. I stepped into the suite, and turned to him, determined that this won't happen again. I said, “This is only a one-time fling.” But he spun me around and pressed me against his very chest and a harder length that was like a brand on my hips and back. He curled his other hand around my throat, pinning me. 

“Are you a virgin?” he asked, his voice a guttural growl, his shoulders tense. 

“I am.” 

And the moment I said that, he lifted me off the floor. The suite was still shrouded in darkness.