Chapter 7

Luciano’s POV

Gala (III)

"Where do you think you're going, little wolf?"

My wolf howled in triumph. I kept to the shadows of the garden, stalking the little blonde. She was focused on her phone, oblivious. The screen's glow lit her face, casting a soft light on her features. I saw the reflection in her glasses. It was a shame the color blocked her eyes.

I drew closer. A whiff of her scent hit the breeze: honey and vanilla, with something else. Something primal. My wolf practically salivated, urging me to claim her. She wasn't my mate; my wolf would know the first time. But she was special. Definitely special.

She tapped her phone with urgency. A rideshare app. Was she leaving?

A surge of possessiveness hit me. Like hell I'd let her slip away now.

I moved fast. I covered the distance in a few strides. She didn't have time to react. I yanked her arm and spun her. She slammed against my chest. My arm wrapped around her waist. My hand settled just above her hips, stroking the dip before they flared. Her skin was warm, even through the soft fabric.

My lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Where do you think you're going, little wolf?"

She stiffened in my arms. My wolf did not like that.

"Let me go," she demanded. Her voice trembled, though.

I chuckled. The sound was low and dark. "Why would I do that? I've been watching you all night. Waiting for this moment."

She twisted in my grip, trying to see my face. "Who are you?"

"Luciano Westwood." I dipped my head. I nuzzled the crook of her neck. Her scent was stronger here. I inhaled deeply, letting it fill my lungs. "Alpha of the Westwood pack. And you, little wolf, are coming with me."

Take her, my wolf urged. Now. Rut her here. Cover her in our scent.

The horny bastard had a point.

I found a crescent scar on the left side of her neck. Her scent was strongest there. I gave in. I licked it, a long, slow swath of my tongue.

She shivered. Triumph curved my lips. Her sharp intake of breath shot straight to my core. My cock had been hard all night. Now it was harder than I’d ever felt. Fuck, she smelled divine.

"Get off me," she whispered.

I growled my displeasure. But her hands, tiny and delicate, slid up my chest. She wasn't pushing me away.

Take her. Rut her. The Moon blesses us.

The full moon seemed to twinkle. Or maybe I was just delusional from her scent.

My hands crawled down her hips, of their own accord. They circled, gently massaging the generous curve of her ass. I growled again, this time in approval. She melted against me.

"Name?" I demanded. I nipped and gently suckled the scar on her neck.

In the dim light, I saw a bruise on her shoulder. It looked covered in that powder women used. My wolf howled in fury. I brushed my fingers over it.

She flinched. I yanked her closer. I rubbed her pelvis against my thighs. Fuck, she was tiny, even in those heels. They had to add three inches.

A small, sane part of my mind said to pull back. Be a gentleman. Re-introduce myself with less hand-rubbing and neck-licking.

But she moaned.

I slid my hands under her ass. I lifted her. Her core cuddled against my cock. Hot, wet, and welcoming behind the barrier of her panties. I felt it through my pants. She wrapped her legs around me. She squeezed.

She hadn't given me her name. But the words that came out next became my highest priority.

"Weird request," she panted into my ear. She rubbed against me in a delicious roll of her hips. "Can you find a wall to shove me against?"

Fuck. Me.

I glanced around, feeling feral. I kissed her. I pushed all the desperation my body was holding onto into her mouth. I swept my tongue inside to lay claim to every soft inch. She tasted just like she smelled. It was hard to pull away, but I did. This was happening.

"No walls," I grunted. I nipped her jaw. She made a little mewling sound. I loved it. "Only trees."

She gasped something like, "Great."

I did what any man would do.

I slammed her against the thickest tree I could find. I unbuttoned my slacks. My cock tip shoved against her hot, wet entrance. Her panties held me back. They were black and lace. I wanted to rip them. I was trying to be a gentleman. Kind of.

I slid my hand into her fancy hairdo. I fisted my fingers in it. She gasped sharply at the pain. I tugged her head back. Her slender neck arched in forced submission. I fought the urge to howl.

I bit where a mating mark would go. Hard enough to bruise, not piercing the skin. I sucked hard. I shoved two fingers into her mouth, demanding she reciprocate.

And she did.

Her sweet, little tongue licked and laved at my fingers. She sucked them into her mouth. She groaned. I rocked against her hard. I felt that slight give in her core. My tip entered her, just a millimeter, with the soaking wet silk between us.

Fucking. Heaven.

"Luciano," she breathed out, eyes tight, "Stop being a gentleman and just take them off."