Chapter One
Diana’s eyelids grew heavy as she stared out the stagecoach window at the seemingly never-ending expanse of sun-baked brush. Every rotation of the wooden wheels brought her closer to her future and to a bridegroom she’d never met, but after days of continuous travel, her excitement had given way to exhaustion, and she slipped into the vision that had brought her across the country, far from her friends, family, and everything she had ever known.
* * *
Diana shook water out of the clean white linens, then took a clothespin from her homemade apron and clipped the wet cotton to the line. The night breeze rippled the cloth, spraying droplets on her hot, naked body, but she didn’t pause to enjoy the decadent sensation. She had a full basket of clothes to hang before her husband came home. When he saw the moonlight reflecting off the brightly colored fabric, he would know she was a good wife, and he would boast to other men about her usefulness. She would be more than simply a pretty face.
A growl rolled through the silence, and Diana turned, the man’s shirt she held slapping against her thigh. Facing her was a large brown wolf. His haunches were rounded, and his teeth were bared in a display of primitive possession. Her nipples tightened, and her pussy moistened, as the wolf was wild and fierce and hers.
He ran by her, his soft fur brushing against her legs, and she chased him, laughing, as he darted between the blowing bed sheets, snapping at the cloth, as playful as a pup. He was fast, a creature of the night, and Diana soon lost sight of him.
“Where are you?” she called as she searched, frantic to find him and experience the passion he brought her.
Strong, human hands caught her, and she tumbled into him, landing on a broad, heaving chest covered with brown hair. Her palms pressed against a tight, defined stomach, his hard cock nestled between her thighs. They rolled on the dew-covered grass, their limbs entwining, until she stared up at him, his rugged face silhouetted against a blanket of twinkling stars, his dark eyes gleaming.
“I caught ya,” he declared, his deep voice softened by a rumbling drawl. He pinned her to the ground with his hips, grinding her ass into the grass. “You’re mine, Di.” He always called her Di. He was the only one who did.
“I’ve always been yours.” That was the truth. A part of her soul had been linked to his for as long as she remembered. “Come.” She wrapped her legs around his trim waist, rubbing her pussy juices onto his skin, wantonly pleasuring herself with his body. “And claim me.” She was his for the taking.
“Mine,” he growled, reminding her of the beast-man he was, and then kissed her, probing the seam of her lips with his tongue and the entrance of her pussy with his hard cock. She opened her mouth, allowing his exploration, and grasped onto his shoulders, needing the reassurance of his solid strength, as he pushed, easing his cock into her, stretching her. He was large, and she whimpered, tilting her hips upward to fully take him, feeling everything, the slide of skin against skin, the raised veins on his shaft, the tickling hairs around his base.
“Mine.” He met her gaze, a connection humming between them. It was more than physical. It was the bonding of two lost souls, a merger of paths both present and future. Diana touched his beloved face, feeling the moisture of silently shed tears.
He kissed her palm and began to move, pumping into her with gentle, lazy strokes. She pushed up, meeting him halfway.
“Di, Di, Di.” Her lover called her name as he thrust his cock into her pussy again and again, her ass smacking against the grass-covered ground, the dew seeping between her ass cheeks, dripping down her spine.
Diana clutched her cowboy’s bulging biceps, pressing her lips to his collarbone, sucking skin, tasting the salt of his exertion. With each thrust, his chest hair rubbed against her sensitive
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