Wolves of Haven : Lone

Gambling with Fate

Content, Akia leaned back in the water and made herself comfortable against the strong, muscular body behind her, and closed her eyes. After hours of making passionate love before collapsing in a sweaty, semiconscious tangle of flesh, Damian decided that the bathtub was the perfect place to watch the sunrise. The oversized claw foot tub sat towards the middle of the second story master bath with a large window that overlooked Old Harbor and offered amazing views of the sunrise.

Absently Damian caressed along the sides of Akia's thighs under the water, his head resting against hers, as he enjoyed the serenity of the moment with the woman he loved in his arms.

For the past five years Damian Nikas had risked everything—career, family, birthright, and life—for the woman that entered his life when he couldn't afford for her to. After a heated argument with his father, the young, just announced, Police Captain was trying to drown his problems in bourbon, something he hadn't done since he was a teenager, before finding himself in the arms of a woman he didn't know. Damian had never had a one night stand before, and he was honestly ashamed of himself for it, but the sex was beyond words, by far the best he'd ever had, and that helped to push the guilt far from his mind as the night of raw, aggressive and almost primal sex continued for hours until he could no longer remember his name or feel his body before collapsing in exhaustion.

When he woke in a strange apartment in a retirement complex, with a young woman that looked barely eighteen years old, sprawled out naked across his chest, he panicked. Once he slid out from under the sleeping woman and got dressed, he tiptoed towards the door, trying to make his great escape, but when he reached for the handle he was flooded with guilt. A war within him raged, something he had never experienced before, and he wasn't sure what to do. Since he hadn't woken up in a stranger's bed before, he wasn't entirely sure of the protocol for such lewd actions, so he figured he'd be a gentleman and leave a thank you note. That, he hoped, would curb the guilt flooding him and sate the suddenly flaring possessive, animalistic side that wanted to crawl back into bed and wake the stranger with his thickening cock.

A thank you note for sex with a stranger?! he silently questioned.

The idea was completely ludicrous, so instead of a note he folded up the piece of paper he found by the phone into an origami praying mantis with a penciled in smiley face and left it on the pillow he had used before slipping out of the door, making sure it was locked behind him.

In a daze he returned home, not entirely sure how he got there or if he remembered to get his change from the cabbie, and questioned last night, struggling to fill in the chunks of time that were apparently missing from his memory that coincided with each head spinning orgasm. For hours, the primal side of him had been kicking himself in the ass over not sticking around, for leaving a mate eating praying mantis of all things behind as a thank you for the night of amazing sex, for not offering to get coffee with the stranger... Hell, he would have even settled for her name!

But he hadn't.

The rational side was furious for letting his guard slip, for being so weak, for allowing a stranger to seduce him as effortlessly as she apparently had. The taste of her mouth, the feeling of her tight, heated body around his cock, even her scent, regardless of scrubbing his skin and brushing his teeth for over an hour, haunted him, and he couldn't shake the haunting images of their night of carnal intimacy that flooded his mind. The moment he tasted her, it was as if he was obeying an instinct he hadn't known he possessed, and that instinct was to own the woman controlling him in ways he had never been controlled before.

But that was no longer an option. He ran from her, like a coward, and all that remained were a handful of images, and the scent and taste he couldn't shake.