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10. What an irony!
Data de publicação:
2026-03-21 15:03:03
Último capítulo
Craving The Wrong Scent 10. What an irony!
Mi Amor Mia (At the hotel) The door slammed so hard the entire suite rattled. I stood there in the middle of the bedroom, my shirt still half-open, her spit cooling on my cheek, and for the first time in twenty-six years my wolf was completely silent. Not angry or confused. Just… stunned. I wiped my face with the back of my hand, tasting salt and the faint trace of her scent still clinging to my skin. What an irony? The woman who had kissed me all night like I was the only oxygen left in the world, fucked me like she'd been starved for years, then looked at me like I'd personally ripped her heart out when she realized I wasn't him. I dragged both hands through my hair, exhaling sharply. The mate bond was still humming under my ribs like a live wire. Every instinct screamed to go after her, drag her back here and finish what the Goddess had clearly started. But… who the hell is this Sebastian? Not only had she moaned the name in my bed last night, she’d shoved her ph
Craving The Wrong Scent 9. Missing
Valerie My dignity lasted approximately as long as it took to reach the hotel lobby. “Excuse me, Miss!” The receptionist called out, hurrying around her desk. I stopped reluctantly. “Yes?” Her professional smile dint waver as she gestured politely toward me. “I'm sorry, but you can’t leave the hotel wearing our robe.” I blinked, and looked down. Only then did I realize I was still wearing the plush Grand Lumière bathrobe. “I…” I swallowed, tightening my grip on my dress and shoes clutched in my arms like I was fleeing a crime scene. “I need to change,” I managed, my voice hollow. “Of course,”she said kindly. “If you'd like, we can show you to a guest room where you can change.” I nodded stiffly “Fine.” A staff member led me down a short hallway and opened the door to a small room. “You can change here, maam” “Thank you.” The door closed behind me. The moment I was alone, I leaned both hands on the dresser and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess
Craving The Wrong Scent 8. Overreacting
Valerie I rushed into the bedroom like the room itself had betrayed me. The sheets were still a mess from the night before. Pillows scattered. The duvet half hanging off the bed like silent evidence of everything that had happened there. My stomach twisted violently. No… It can't be. My eyes burned as I grabbed the first piece of clothing I saw from the floor. It was crumpled and twisted like it had been carelessly discarded in the heat of the night. My chest tightened. Behind me, footsteps entered the room. “Hey…” “Don’t!” I snapped without turning around. My hands trembled as I tried to shake the wrinkles from my dress. “Don’t come any closer!” Silence fell for a second, but I could still feel his eyes on my back. I dropped the dress on the bed and began searching frantically again. “My bag… where’s my phone?” I muttered to myself, pushing aside a pillow and lifting the edge of the blanket. Panic clawed up my throat with every passing second. If I could just call Seb
Craving The Wrong Scent 7. What Have I Done?
Valerie I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, my head pounding with the kind of hangover that suggested I’d done something monumentally stupid. For a moment, I just lay there, trying to piece together the fragments of last night. A quiet laugh escaped my lips as I buried my face in the pillow. “Finally,” I murmured to myself. After years of watching him stubbornly remain distant, he'd finally warm up to me, and all he took was a public humiliation and rejection from Chelsea. I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in muscles I hadn’t used in… well, ever. My fingers clutched the edge of the duvet as the memory of his intensity flashed through my mind again. My heart fluttered wildly. I shifted under the covers and slowly lifted the edge of the duvet. I looked down and found myself in only my underwear, the rest of me deliciously naked beneath the duvet. “Oh my gosh…” Heat flooded my cheeks and a shy smile spread across my face as I pulled the duvet over my
Craving The Wrong Scent 6. Take All of Me
Mi Amor Mia I set her down just long enough to start removing her dress. The fabric slid off her shoulders, down her body, and pooling at her feet. She wasn’t wearing a bra, just a scrap of lace that could generously be called underwear. “Fuck,” I breathed, taking her in. She was perfect. All curves and smooth skin and the kind of body that made men write poetry or start wars. Her breasts were full and perfect, nipples already hard from arousal or the cool air conditioning. Her waist dipped in before flaring to hips that I wanted to grip while I… She reached for me again, and I caught her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. Her eyes went wide, pupils dilated with lust and alcohol, and I saw her breath catch. “My turn,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. I kissed down her neck, her collarbone, taking my time despite the urgency screaming through my veins. When I reached her breasts, I took one nipple into my mouth and sucked hard. She arched against
Craving The Wrong Scent 5. Playing Dirty?
Mi Amor Mia The Grand Lumière Hotel in Asheville, North Carolina had become something of a second home over the past three days. I’d checked in after attending the remembrance ceremony for my adoptive parents, Theodore and Meredith Foster. Five years since they’d fallen in battle, and the pain hadn’t dulled. If anything, it had sharpened into something cold and permanent that lived in my chest. I was barely eight years old when my birth parents shipped me off like defective merchandise to live with my aunt and her family in Ironwood Pack. My uncle-in-law, who was a strong warrior, had seen potential instead of problems like my birth parents had. “We’ll teach you how to win,” he’d told me on my first day in Ironwood territory. And he had. For fifteen years, he and his wife had given me everything my birth parents never could. They’d trained me, turning my wild, untamed energy into something deadly and precise. And I grew into a warrior, a leader, and someone who commanded respe
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