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Tempted by the Wolf (Spell of the Shifters, Book 3)

38 pages34 minutes


Journalist Ethan has a dream job working on a music magazine in Paris, and he's dating the gorgeous deputy editor, Guillaume. But there's only one catch: Guillaume is a wolf shapeshifter. When Ethan finds himself alone in a nightclub with another of the guys in Guillaume's pack, he finds temptation thrown in his way that is impossible to resist. Can his relationship with the handsome wolf survive?

This is the third installment of the Spell of the Shifters series.

Warning: This short but highly charged erotic romance (8300 words) contains one cute but naive LA music correspondent, a heartstoppingly hot pair of Parisian wolves and some very graphic sex scenes. Not suitable for under-18s.


"I need to have you. Now." He murmured this in my ear and I was transported by my desire for him. Nothing else would do, and it was not possible for me to deny myself. I had never wanted anyone like I wanted this man. I needed to feel him and to taste him, and I needed it now.

I bodily dragged him from the dance floor, stunned by the urgency of my wanting. We grappled with each other in a dark corner. The feeling of his bare skin against mine was electric and as he grabbed my ass and pulled it in towards him, grinding our hips together, I felt like my cock was going to explode.

I had to have him. I had lost all my powers of reason and any semblance of self-control.

I nuzzled his neck.

"Not here," I murmured in his ear, dragging him towards the elevator. I had forgotten Ava existed - and, shamefully, Guillaume didn't even cross my mind.

We were on our own in the elevator, but even if we hadn't been, I would not have been able to keep my hands off him.

I traced the lines of the wolf tattoo on his tricep with my fingers. His pupils were dilated, huge and black, turning his pale eyes into dark pools of desire. I touched my mouth to his cheek, where the roughness of his stubbled jaw stimulated the receptors in my lips. I wanted to taste him, to possess him, to own him.

His strange otherness and wolfishness had cast a spell on me and I could think of nothing else. The doormen regarded us impassively as we tumbled out of the door locked in each other's arms. I guessed they saw this or more every night of their working lives.

He pulled me around the corner and shoved me up against the grimy wall. Despite the chill of the damp, cold air on our bare chests, we were oblivious. The scratch of the rough bricks on my back only added to the heights of my sensory arousal. He bit down savagely on my lip, drawing blood, and raked his nails down my shoulder, leaving a faint trail of blood, which he licked from me. The sensation of his rough pink tongue on my shoulder made my knees weaken with desire, and I slumped against the wall.

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