The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)(59)

It had nothing but file folders for Raoul’s real estate business, which was nothing of extreme interest to me.

As I reached for the handle on the third drawer, something told me not to open it. Of course, that only made me want to get into it even more. Pulling it open harder than necessary, I was surprised to see that it was filled with photo albums. There were three of them. I couldn’t help but reach for the first one, the pages creaking uncomfortably as I opened it. Clearly, nobody had looked at it in awhile.

The first page held a very old photo, a young woman with smiling brown eyes and a head of hair to die for. The caption beneath it said, “Naomi”. I was astonished and began to scrutinize the picture closer. This was Zoey’s mother, the human woman Raoul had loved. One of two anyway.

Flipping through the pages revealed more photos, some of Raoul and Naomi together. In all the time I’d known him, I had never seen him look at these pictures. It must have hurt him too much.

Now that I knew about the two great loves of Raoul’s life, one of which was my own mother, I could better understand why he chose the bachelor lifestyle he had lived until his death. It didn’t make it any easier to accept though.

The entire photo album was photos of that time in Raoul’s life, before me. I put it back and reached for another one. Flipping open the cover, I was strangely surprised to see photos of Shaz and myself, among other wolves, from when Raoul had taken us in. It was strange to see a much younger version of me. Looking at the teenage version of both my white wolf and myself, I couldn’t help but think of everything that had changed since that time.

For one, my loss of innocence had gone from learning how to deal with the change to becoming more of a monster than I had ever dreamed possible. The uncertain smile on the face of the teenaged me spoke volumes, and I slammed the album shut. I didn’t bother opening the third one. I didn’t want to take this trip down memory lane.

Casting a glance around the small office, I put the photo album back in the drawer and kicked it closed. I sat heavily on the end of the couch with Raoul’s scent puffing up at me as I did so. I leaned back so that my head rested against the back of the soft, worn sofa. Running my hands over it, I instantly became lost in a memory, one that refused to leave as easily as it had come.

It had been in this very room, oddly enough. The very first time that Raoul and I had made love. My skin flushed hot with the memory of his hands on my body. I had been so young, a virgin. He had been the man of my dreams, the one who had saved me in so many ways.

I had been in the den here, crying after an especially traumatic night. A fellow wolf had tried to take advantage of me, and Raoul had kicked the shit out of him. He’d found me in tears on this very same couch and pulled me into his arms, pressing moist kisses to my temple, cheeks and eventually my lips.

The memory ensnared me until it was as real as it had once been. Raoul drew my face to his with a warm touch, and I melted, hungry for what he offered. Our lips met, and my heart raced in disbelief. I had spent so many nights imagining this moment and all of a sudden, it was happening.

He had never been one to take it slow. Once I responded to Raoul, kissing him back, biting his lips and tongue, he’d been quick to take it a step further. Pressing me into the back of the sofa, his long black hair fell around my face, and his scent was all I could breathe in. Intoxicating and overwhelming, I was flooded with heat between my legs as he buried his face in my hair and nipped at my neck.

I reached to pull him closer, needing to feel him against every part of me. He growled low in his throat, and my wolf leaped in response. It was both frightening and awe-inspiring. I gasped when he bit me harder, a shot of pleasure going straight to my groin.

The next thing I knew, I was naked and begging him to take me. His silky, soft, ebony hair trailed over my skin as he kissed his way down my body. He kneeled before me on the floor, his dark eyes peering into mine as he spread my legs wide. When he tasted me, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

My fingers were lost in his hair as I pulled him closer. A strange growl bubbled out of me, and I writhed under his expert touch. I orgasmed with an intensity that tore a series of cries from me.

Raoul stood beautifully nude, like a Greek god. I ran my hands over his hard stomach, boldly reaching to stroke his hard and ready shaft. Though I was inexperienced, I wasn’t completely naïve. He looked down at me, his coal-black eyes watching every slick motion of my hand. With his hands on my shoulders, he slowly pushed me back so that I was lying on the couch. Raising one of my legs up over the back of the couch, he moved between my thighs so that he was positioned at my entrance.

“Are you ready, Alexa?” His voice was powerful, touching me in the pit of my stomach so that I had the urge to squirm.

I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out so I reached for him instead, my clawed fingers creating red scratches on his forearms. He leaned down so that my br**sts pressed against his hard chest. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let out a little yelp when he pressed forward, slowly but surely, until he was fully sheathed inside my tight warmth.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “I figured it would be better than inching my way in.”

A blush colored my cheeks, and I bit my lower lip when he began to move, building a steady rhythm. The pain eased, replaced with pleasure unlike any I could have imagined. Desire had me moaning with every one of Raoul’s thrusts; the animal inside me was truly unleashed in this act. I welcomed it, wanting more, needing to feel him deeper and fuller.