Beauty and the Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) by Kristin Miller Page B

MacGrath, I’m a Connelly. There’s no way fate would put us together, across the world from each other, from two packs that hate each other. My father doesn’t just dislike your family, Jack. He loathes every one of you for the crimes you committed when werewolves first immigrated here.”
    The sting of dishonor pinched his side. “I know what my family did in the past, but that wasn’t me. I’ve lived my life differently. With honor.”
    “Still, he resents everyone who bears the MacGrath name. There is no way we’re a perfect match.”
    “You’re it for me, Isabelle,” he said, and took her hands. They were soft and warm, molding into his perfectly. She didn’t pull away. “And I don’t think you’re my Luminary, I know you are. I can feel it here.” Slowly, he guided her hands to cover his heart. From the closeness, his heart sped, feeding electric impulses of need through his veins. “Don’t you feel anything ?”
    “I…” Her eyes fluttered closed. “…I feel your heart beating against my palm, and I can sense the lust racing through you, but that’s all it is. Lust. The Luminary bond is so much more than that.”
    “We have more.”
    “You can tell me that until you’re blue in the face, but I don’t feel it.”
    “Then let me show you.”
    Tunneling his hand through her hair to the back of her neck, Jack dragged her against him. She gasped in shock, her eyes wide as his lips crushed against hers. Fire burst through him at the contact, but he kissed her slowly. A simmering burn she should’ve felt in her toes.
    Her lips were firm. Unyielding.
    As he loosened the hold on her neck and teased her hair through his fingers, he picked up the scent of her arousal. Sweet and unmistakable. She slanted her mouth over his—the tiniest movement—and then opened up on a soft, panting moan. Slipping his tongue past her lips, he teased her with it. Unwound her with the skill of his mouth.
    He was in complete control—where he liked to be.
    Shivers of lust rattled through him as she explored his mouth with long, luscious strokes of her tongue. She nipped at him. Sucked and drew his bottom lip into her mouth. And just like that, he surrendered.

    J ack may’ve been deceitful by blood and a liar by nature, but hot damn holy honeysuckle, he knew how to kiss. From the moment his lips touched hers, flames of desire licked through her. Her body flashed hot, melting the bitterness she’d been harboring.
    Still, her father’s voice rang in her ears.
    Never trust a MacGrath.
    Was Jack really weakening? Was all that adrenaline mumbo-jumbo the truth? She wanted to believe him, but could she?
    “Jack,” she mumbled against his lips. Her knees wobbled as the floor disappeared beneath her feet. “What are you doing to me?”
    “Showing you how good we could be together.”
    Grabbing a handful of her hair, he urged her head back and brushed his lips down her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hauling herself against him as his mouth slid along her skin. Every nerve ending in her body awakened. Hunger speared through her. And as he pulled her face down to his and kissed her, passion flared deep in her belly.
    This time, when her lips met his, primal need surged through her. She wanted him hovering over her as their hips pressed together. Craved the pressure of his body as he drove deep inside her. Gripping need snaked through her until she was panting into his mouth and clawing her hands up and down his back.
    “Ahem,” a voice said from the doorway. “Mr. MacGrath?”
    Branson stood in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him.
    Peeling her body from his, Isabelle jumped back and rubbed her tingly lips. Now that she was free from his bizarre magnetism, his words rang in her ears.
    I’m dying…
    “Branson, your timing is impeccable.” Jack snatched the pillow off the chair beside them and covered his groin. “Whatever it is, it can wait another six hours. Come back then.”
    Six