Chane Taunton is running out of time. He’s not a warrior. He’s a monk…well, ex-monk. And herbalist. Neither qualifies him to capture a deranged vampire. Unfortunately, to keep his brother and friends safe, he must try. He just has to set the right trap. Of course, this is made even more difficult with the arrival of his brother, Archie, who keeps following Chane from coven to coven spiking Chane’s drinks and placing himself in danger.
When the trap fails, again, Chane is saved by a gorgeous, big feline shifter, Dominic Sanchez, who declares Chane is his mate. Due to an accident, Chane is unable to immediately scent the shifter as mate, but Dom is adamant and sets out to woo Chane, soothing the vampire’s many ruffles and discovering all his secrets.
With an assassin on the loose and gunning for them, Dom has his work cut out for him. Luckily he has a lot of crafty shifters and the mate pull on his side.
Smiling rather evilly, Carlo Sandstone twirled a large knife, watching, waiting. “You keep moving, darling. It’s not good for your health, and you know you’re a homebody. All this moving about must be stressing you out. Why don’t you come home with me now, before anyone gets hurt?”
The problem with Carlo was he quite enjoyed hurting others. And Chane was a pacifist, but he would defend himself and others if necessary. And Carlo had no patience. With a growl, the other vampire executed a superb leap and roll, coming up close to Chane and latching a strap onto his arm. Chane was quick also, using the sleeping draught he had modified the evening before and tossing it on the man while sliding sideways and slicing through the strap.
He had to keep moving though, for as quick as his responses, Carlo’s were just as fast and the man was extremely well trained, a professional assassin and personal security guard.
“Good moves, darling. What is this stuff? One of your concoctions?” Carlo wiped his face of the grayish powder. “I’m taking you home, Chane. We can do this the easy way, or I take you down.” Carlo blew him a kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. I always am. With you anyway.”
With that, Carlo came at him. Chane used every defensive move he knew, improvised where he should, hissed, and dropped his talons out. He heard rather than really saw a car pull up and feet lightly touching pavement as someone moved fast toward them. Hoping it wasn’t his brother—Carlo would slaughter the young vampire just to get at Chane—he upped his fight, but knew he wasn’t a match for someone of Carlo’s capabilities and skills, and found himself hitting the ground hard, Carlo on top of him, raising a syringe.
“Get off him,” a deep voice growled low and lethal, sending a shiver through Chane.
Carlo was suddenly gone from on top of Chane. He barely had time to look over before the fighting had begun. Whoever the man was who stepped in, he was big and well-muscled, and looked very similar to the man who had stepped out of the limousine at the vampire estate. Chane sat up, gingerly touching the back of his head and wincing at the lump there.
“I’m training to be a healer. May I check your head, Mr. Taunton?” The driver crouched beside Chane. “Prince Dominic is an excellent fighter. He will easily detain the assailant.”
If Chane wasn’t aware of Carlo’s talents, he would have believed the driver. But Chane doubted Prince Dominic was a match for Carlo. The driver checked the wound and advised rest and ice. Chane rose with the driver’s assistance, his vision blurring a moment before his head cleared. When he looked over, he saw that the driver might have been correct after all. Carlo was backtracking as the big, white-blond male kept knocking him down. When another man stepped in, possibly to corner Carlo, he must have decided to cut his losses and get out of there. Pulling out a gun, he shot at the men and was gone fast, shooting a glare at Chane before he ran into the forest.
“Want me to chase him down, Dominic?”
Dominic glanced over at Chane and the driver, sniffing the air. “No. Call Baron, the pack, and the Durand and Armstrong covens. Alert to a creature on the loose attacking others.” Dominic strode over to Chane and tilted his head up. “Are you injured?”
“Non.” Chane stepped back from the large creature.
Frowning deeply at Chane, Dominic looked around as though trying to work something out. He looked back at Chane for a few minutes, then shook his head and began issuing orders while moving Chane along with a hand at his back. At a long stretch limousine, he opened the door and ushered Chane inside.
“Marty, help Cecil clear out the Armstrong service car and then get him in the front with you. I’m going to make a few calls before the scent and trail disappears.”
“On it, boss.”
Chane sat quietly. His head pounded, but he was more concerned with the fact he had failed, yet again, to capture Carlo. It was obvious to him he was useless at setting traps and certainly not good at capturing. Maybe it was time to tell someone else. For over a year, he had been trying to capture Carlo, draw him out, and failed miserably each time, though he had managed to evade being captured himself, which was Carlo’s purpose.
The big man, Prince Dominic, sat down opposite and placed a phone to his ear. He spent the next few minutes speaking to a number of different creatures regarding Carlo and, while doing this, pressed a bottled water into Chane’s hand and gave him the motion to drink. As soon as the creature finished talking, he tossed his phone aside and was suddenly in Chane’s face, sniffing his neck and purring.
Merde! The situation had gone from horrific failure to abysmal mess!
“I desire you, my mate. I desire our bonding.”
Dominic’s scent intensified, heavy waves of arousal practically soaking the air. Without a word, he swooped down and kissed Chane, showing he wanted their union also, and how much. It was beautiful, intense, filled with lust and needs and when they broke apart, both were breathing heavy.
They fell onto the bed together, Chane not even caring he did not remember walking into the bedroom, far too busy removing his tiger mate’s fancy shirt and learning the big, solid, warm body with the splattering of white-blond hair across pecs and a treasure trail that continued past the waist band of his mate’s pants.
Gliding his hands over Dominic’s body, Chane wished he had his fragranced natural oils to smooth over the beautiful muscle definition and glorious, tanned skin. He would love to massage and taste, lave the man’s nipples and cover Dominic in honeydew oil. He was certain no other combination would taste as fine.
Dominic groaned at each sweep of Chane’s hands, his mouth and tongue following the strokes as he learned his mate’s upper body from his pecs, those pale, pink nipples that enjoyed a little fang action, Dominic grunting and griping Chane’s arms, the scent of arousal and pre-come filling the air. Chane toyed with the tiger’s nipples for a time, lapping and suckling, nipping with a fang, even drawing blood a few times and drinking. His mate’s body bucked, and the low growl followed by the tiger jerking up and putting Chane on his back showed him his mate was on edge.
“As you are mine, my tiger,” Chane agreed. “I wish to explore all of you, taste, touch, and suckle.”
Dominic groaned, his groin brushing against Chane’s through their pants. “Next time, promise. Need you, heating up despite only just having the cooling medicine.”
Chane’s own body was demanding they got busy and decided next time would be best for more playing, and he fully intended to take his time and explore, taste, touch, and suckle every inch of this magnificent creature.
Dominic pushed back and with hurried, jerky movements, undid his leather belt and his tailored pants, and pushed them off, quickly followed by his underwear and kicked the materials aside. He got back on the bed, prowling over the top of Chane and lowered his head to press their lips together in a kiss so hot he was sure they could come just from that.
Reaching up, he stroked his mate’s sides, his back, his nicely rounded, firm ass then slipped around to the front and lightly ran the back of his fingers over his mate’s long, thick engorged cock that leaked pre-come. He wanted that, to taste and feel inside him.
“I need to be inside you, mate,” Dominic purred.
“Yes,” Chane said simply.
With a quick kiss to his lips, Dominic climbed off Chane and hurried across the bed to the bedside table on the right where he rummaged around. Chane undid the drawstring on his lounge pants, then slid the soft material off, freeing his own red dick, and pushed the pants off of his legs and feet. Dominic groaned at the sight, and with a bottle of lube in one hand, he prowled back across the bed and, leaning down, laved with his tongue at the top of Chane’s cock.
Hissing, pleasure shooting through him, and resisting the urge to press his groin into Dominic’s mouth, Chane gripped the bedcover on either side and spread his legs wide at the shifter’s urging.
He lost himself in the sensations. The tongue lapping at his cock and the finger rubbing on his hole before sliding inside. The feel of slippery lube over his groin and running along his crack. Fingers rubbing liquid over him, into him. Another finger moving inside and stretching. A hot, warm mouth taking him inside. A brush of fingers against his sac. He barely felt the third finger with a hard suck on his cock, and before he had a chance to even breath, Chane cried out as his body went taut, his cock throbbing and releasing his seed into his mate’s willing mouth.
The pleasure was unlike any other, completely saturating his senses. Dominic moved closer, lifting Chane’s hips and placing a pillow beneath his ass. Chane wrapped his legs around Dominic’s hips and relaxed at the first press of that big, thick cock against his well-stretched hole.
Still, the shifter was big, and it had been a while, so there was a bit of burn, a lot of stretch, and a small amount of pain. Dominic seemed attuned to Chane’s body, stopping after he was inside a few strokes, panting hard and resting his forehead against Chane’s. They both caught their breath, then they were kissing, lips meshing, bodies beginning to move again.