Corrupt Cravings by Jennifer Salaiz

that she did.
    “Donavon.” Her throat closed as she walked toward him.
    A hiss sent chills down her body, and she was slammed into the closet door before she knew what was happening. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
    Looking around wildly, Marcella wasn’t sure what to say. Should she tell him the truth? No, it was way too soon for that. Lie, her mind screamed. “I’m gifted, you could say. I just know things.”
    “Is this a habit with you? I can smell when you’re not being truthful. Now tell me how you know my real name. No one here does, so I know you didn’t eavesdrop on anyone’s conversation.”
    “If you don’t believe I’m gifted, then let me tell you what I know.”
    “Speak fast, or else I break your neck and save myself the trouble of having to share my room with you. A room you shouldn’t even be allowed to walk in. I was preparing this for someone, and now you’ve ruined it.”
    The look in his eyes was so angry that she rushed the beginning of her words. “Your tattoos and drawings. You see them on a woman. Am I right?”
    The air left Marcella’s lungs as she was slammed back into the door. “Keep talking.” The growl was so close she could feel his breath on her throat.
    “The large symbol on your chest, it’s on a necklace that hangs from around her neck. It’s also on a sword you can see yourself holding.”
    “How do you know this?”
    Too soon! Marcella’s mind scrambled for something to say. “I’m gifted, I tell you. Now put me down and apologize right this minute for hurting me.” He laughed and dropped her. Barely catching her weight, she stumbled away from him.
    “I apologize to no one. Now gets some clothes on. I’m tired of seeing you practically nude. Don’t you have any respect for yourself?” he snapped.
    “Don’t try to make me feel bad. You did this! I think it makes you more uncomfortable than it makes me.” Marcella moved her hair over her shoulders, exposing her breasts. “Why is that, Donavon? Why do I make you so uneasy?”
    His hands shook as he turned from her and reached into his closet. “I said get dressed. Don’t make me tell you again. And don’t you dare say my name in front of anyone. Stick with Arizona.”
    “Do I get to know the reason behind why they call you such a name?” Marcella mentally kicked herself. Street lingo, damn it.
    “What?”
    “I said what’s up with your name. How’d you get it?”
    “None of your fucking business. Are you dressed yet?”
    Stripping off her pants, she had an idea. What the hell. What would it hurt? She turned collector long enough to place a few tattoos on her thighs and lower stomach, where the pants would have covered. She quickly let her change begin. It only took her a few seconds, but he must have noticed something was off. He spun around just as her transformation back into a shifter was complete. From where her low-cut panties rested, the tattoos were exposed perfectly.
    “I thought you were letting me change in privacy? So, now you want to look?” Marcella placed her hand on her hip as she looked at him.
    Donavon’s eyes raced over her form. At his parted mouth, she held in a smile. Making some of her collector symbols into tattoos was genius. Now the two of them somewhat matched.
    Slowly, he walked forward, sinking to his knees. “How? Do you see her, too?”
    “All the time.”
    “I thought I was losing my mind,” he whispered.
    “No, I promise you’re not. I know you see visions. Tell me what she looks like.”
    He leaned his face closer to her white lace panties. Tightening erupted over her skin. The need to weave her fingers in his hair and pull his face into her pussy was almost uncontrollable.
    “I never see past her neck. I’m always…Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what she looks like. Just that she has symbols like these.”
    “How do you know it’s not me?”
    The finger that was about to touch the symbol on her upper thigh stopped in its