bones and down to the hollow of her throat. His other hand had grabbed her shoulder, his claws slicing through her skin, the pain so acute that she had felt sick.
"What shall we do with her, boys? She would make a good snack, after we indulged in her body."
"No!" She'd found her mace spray in her bag and had somehow managed to get him right in the face when he bent down to kiss her.
His angry growl had trembled through her, not unlike Raoul's had back in the bathroom just then, but he had let go, and she'd run. Faster than she'd ever run, wolves on her heels, until they'd recoiled at his snarled command to let her go.
"You can run little bitch, but we'll get you. You're marked."
Nikita had no idea what that meant, and she swallowed the rising bile of sheer panic and willed her breathing to slow down. She was here with Raoul , and she was safe. He'd said so, and he always kept her safe. Raoul, who she had connected with from the first look across the room, when he'd smiled at her and taken her under his wing. In his final year then he'd taken her freshman self and shown her the ropes.
She, Nikita, the geeky girl, who never attracted male attention had the most eligible male on campus at her beck and call. He'd made that first year special , and even once he'd left they'd stayed in touch. He had been her friend, her cheerleader, the strong shoulder she cried on when one of her disastrous attempts at dating had gone wrong. Raoul, always on her side, the big brother she'd never had. Only he wasn't her brother, and lately she had looked at him in an entirely different light. Not that she would ever tell him that. Their friendship was too important to her, and besides he had never given her any indication that he was interested in her sexually. Not until tonight that is.
Nikita closed her eyes and recalled the sensation of Raoul's calloused hands sliding across her skin, erasing the memories of the other claws breaking her skin. The other man's putrid smell invading her nostrils was replaced with Raoul's earthy essence. She couldn't recall him ever having smelled that good, but then she had never seen him in such intimate settings.
When he'd yanked the door open, she had been so relieved to find him in, she had literally fallen into his arms, and with typical Raoul fashion he'd taken charge and taken care of her.
The water shut off in the bathroom , and the door opened moments later. Wearing nothing but a low slung towel, Raoul was every woman's wet dream, and despite the situation, or maybe because of it, Nikita's insides clenched in need. Every feminine cell in her body sat up to take notice of the image of male perfection strolling toward her in that long-limbed gait of his. His inherent grace had always been such a stark contrast to her own dorky self, and Nikita wished with all her might she hadn't lost her glasses in her struggle, so that she could better appreciate every dip and peak of the muscled perfection that were his abs. Droplets of water still clung to his skin, the dark trail of hair disappearing into the knot like a come and get me beacon to her libido.
It had to have been the danger she had been in, making her act so out of character, that she wanted to run across and jump her best friend's bones. Did they not say that? Something about sex being life affirming? Yes, that had to be the only reason why her pussy practically salivated at the sight of Raoul's broad shouldered stance and her nipples did their best to poke through the soft fabric of her bath robe.
Piercing blue eyes regarded her from under heavy set lashes. His ever-present stubble graced a firm jaw and lips that should be too full on a man. On him however, they just added to his masculinity, and her gaze followed his hands as they adjusted the knot on his towel. A towel she desperately wanted him to get rid of. A towel that did little to hide his hardening dick.
"Let me get some clothes on and then we'll talk." There was a hoarseness to
"What shall we do with her, boys? She would make a good snack, after we indulged in her body."
"No!" She'd found her mace spray in her bag and had somehow managed to get him right in the face when he bent down to kiss her.
His angry growl had trembled through her, not unlike Raoul's had back in the bathroom just then, but he had let go, and she'd run. Faster than she'd ever run, wolves on her heels, until they'd recoiled at his snarled command to let her go.
"You can run little bitch, but we'll get you. You're marked."
Nikita had no idea what that meant, and she swallowed the rising bile of sheer panic and willed her breathing to slow down. She was here with Raoul , and she was safe. He'd said so, and he always kept her safe. Raoul, who she had connected with from the first look across the room, when he'd smiled at her and taken her under his wing. In his final year then he'd taken her freshman self and shown her the ropes.
She, Nikita, the geeky girl, who never attracted male attention had the most eligible male on campus at her beck and call. He'd made that first year special , and even once he'd left they'd stayed in touch. He had been her friend, her cheerleader, the strong shoulder she cried on when one of her disastrous attempts at dating had gone wrong. Raoul, always on her side, the big brother she'd never had. Only he wasn't her brother, and lately she had looked at him in an entirely different light. Not that she would ever tell him that. Their friendship was too important to her, and besides he had never given her any indication that he was interested in her sexually. Not until tonight that is.
Nikita closed her eyes and recalled the sensation of Raoul's calloused hands sliding across her skin, erasing the memories of the other claws breaking her skin. The other man's putrid smell invading her nostrils was replaced with Raoul's earthy essence. She couldn't recall him ever having smelled that good, but then she had never seen him in such intimate settings.
When he'd yanked the door open, she had been so relieved to find him in, she had literally fallen into his arms, and with typical Raoul fashion he'd taken charge and taken care of her.
The water shut off in the bathroom , and the door opened moments later. Wearing nothing but a low slung towel, Raoul was every woman's wet dream, and despite the situation, or maybe because of it, Nikita's insides clenched in need. Every feminine cell in her body sat up to take notice of the image of male perfection strolling toward her in that long-limbed gait of his. His inherent grace had always been such a stark contrast to her own dorky self, and Nikita wished with all her might she hadn't lost her glasses in her struggle, so that she could better appreciate every dip and peak of the muscled perfection that were his abs. Droplets of water still clung to his skin, the dark trail of hair disappearing into the knot like a come and get me beacon to her libido.
It had to have been the danger she had been in, making her act so out of character, that she wanted to run across and jump her best friend's bones. Did they not say that? Something about sex being life affirming? Yes, that had to be the only reason why her pussy practically salivated at the sight of Raoul's broad shouldered stance and her nipples did their best to poke through the soft fabric of her bath robe.
Piercing blue eyes regarded her from under heavy set lashes. His ever-present stubble graced a firm jaw and lips that should be too full on a man. On him however, they just added to his masculinity, and her gaze followed his hands as they adjusted the knot on his towel. A towel she desperately wanted him to get rid of. A towel that did little to hide his hardening dick.
"Let me get some clothes on and then we'll talk." There was a hoarseness to
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