Hunger's Mate Read Online Free Page B

saw the dark energy surrounding him, the aura that had shadowed him and Eli after that fateful night in Sierra Leone? Or, on a less dramatic level, did she bypass all that BS and zero in on the desire that clawed at him like an angry beast? His fist gripped his length with a vengeance, as if it had been the one to actually put him in this state. Sure, “it” was partially responsible, but really the blame rested solely on Jewel.
    She moved around this resort with a quiet potency that had reached out and grabbed him by the throat from the very start. Jacques and the others acted as if she didn’t even exist, nobody having much to say about who she was or where she’d come from and being pretty content with that lack of knowledge. It seemed he was the only one mesmerized by the beauty with the red hair that didn’t quite fit her, and at the same time made her even sexier, even more intriguing.
    She should not have fascinated him, should not have had this effect on him because he’d seen more beautiful women, had slept with more physically attractive women. Yet none of them made him feel like this, none had him in this shower doing what he was currently doing.
    Dropping his head back Ezra worked his hand even faster, the other hand planted firmly, supporting his weight as warm water rained over him. He opened his mouth, kept his eyes closed, gurgled on the water that found its way there and spit. All the while he never ceased the rhythmic motion that had his blood simmering, his tense muscles bunching.
    Amy, one of the front-desk clerks that worked the morning shift at the resort, came into focus. She had palm-sized breasts, a slim waist, and a firm bottom, even if she was a little on the slight side. Her hair came to her shoulders in heavy brunette waves and her big brown eyes smiled at him each time he walked by. On the instances where he’d had to ask her questions—which were usually more a source of entertainment than to actually gain any knowledge—she’d batted her long curving eyelashes and smiled at him seductively, invitingly. Of course, he’d smiled in return.
    He could fuck her, Ezra was sure of that. He could get dressed and drop this adolescent pastime in exchange for the warmth of vaginal walls gripping his aching dick like a vise. For the first time in the last few minutes, his hand actually slowed, the tingling at the base of his spine almost dissipated, but the cat inside hissed in revolt.
    That wasn’t the female he wanted.
    In no time it was her face he saw, her plump lips he wanted to kiss, to suck, to lick. His hand pumped faster, his legs spreading with the effort as he thrust into his own palm. His thumb scraped over the head of his engorged dick and Ezra wanted to open his mouth to let out a mighty roar. He wanted to shift and run, long and hard until his lungs ached with exertion. But not until after he came.
    And in the next instant he did exactly that, watching the streams of white swirl down into the drain along with the continued patter of water.
    Seconds later he was snatching the washcloth and soap from its ceramic encasement and he washed his body like a kid who was being forced, all the while cursing himself, the genetics that had arousal continuing to burn in his loins, and the Lormenian princess that had abused and cursed him.
    *   *   *
    â€œLooking a little rough around the edges today, Ezra,” Sebastian Perry, owner of Perryville Resorts and Mountain Faction Leader said the moment Ezra entered his office and took a seat across from him.
    â€œGo to hell,” was Ezra’s immediate retort, to be followed reluctantly by, “sir.”
    Bas chuckled. “Really, your shoes are at least acceptable, slacks, shirt, and tie—Dior, I do believe.”
    Other than himself, Ezra considered Bas the only shifter in the States that paid as much attention to his clothes as he did. With Bas’s bank account he could