Page 4 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss

Chapter thre e

Valentino

L ike a light in the dark, a harvest moon shining through the smog of the city, I can’t stop staring into Cheyenne’s eyes.

She’s gorgeous in the morning light. Her red hair piled on top of her head, sunglasses nestled into it like a crown, she looks like a sleepy princess.

All that beautiful skin on display. I want to bury my face in her tits and drown in them.

I can’t keep my distance from her when we are standing so close together.

She smells like lavender and lemons from the soap stocked here at the villa.

It’s subtle, complementing her natural scent.

The swell of arousal that blossoms off her causes a rush of blood to fill my cock.

My knot pulses at the suggestion it might actually get the privilege of being buried in her sweet cunt .

When we kiss, when she tugs me in closer by my shirt, I can’t hold back the little bit of wolf that comes out of me.

The growl that escapes from the back of my throat is guttural and needy.

My canines extend and scrape across her plump bottom lip.

If I’m not careful, I’m going to completely wolf out like a two-pump chump getting his first taste of real pussy.

My hand slides into her open shirt, and the feel of her ample curves under my hand is like coming home.

But then she pulls away. She breaks the kiss, and I’m half tempted to drag her to my suite. The look on her face though, the paleness in her cheeks that were so flushed before we kissed, keeps me rooted to the spot. Did I go too far?

“Tino, I gotta head up to Naples to handle…” Luca shouts as he rounds the corner into the foyer. My underboss is dressed to intimidate and eyeing my mate too much for my liking. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I should go so I can get a good lounger,” Cheyenne mumbles at her sandals. She’s out the door before I can even say anything.

My lips draw back in a snarl. Luca usually means well, he’s been by my side for a long time. We became made men, werewolves, together. I would trust him with my life.

“Tino, you know if you need some skirt, you can do better than… that . I know plenty of available females.” Luca keeps talking, but my stomach curdles at the mere suggestion that Cheyenne is anything less than perfect.

Our organisation hasn’t always been progressive.

My father, brother, and I have spent decades beating the bad habits out of our older men and teaching our younger wolves to be respectful of all people regardless of who they are.

Obviously, if you cross us, that respect is lost, but the best way to gain a following and loyalty is with mutual respect and aid.

Luca’s been sliding back on some of these ideals recently.

“What’s happening in Naples?” I change the subject.

This trip is about Andrea and Junelle. The business with the rat following us here is frustrating but par for the course with a criminal organisation.

I need to keep my situation with Cheyenne under wraps until after the ceremony.

Once I’ve got her claimed, I’ll have a chat with Luca to set him straight.

“Gio called about a lead on the head rat,” he explains. “You want me to find you some higher-quality ladies on my way back?”

“No. I’m good. Get that shit sorted so we can enjoy a little vacation.” I force a grin because if I don’t, I’m going to punch in his fucking face. What the fuck is a high-quality woman? “How long will you be gone?”

“Overnight, maybe another day.” He shrugs. “You wanna do the honours when I bring him in?”

“No, I trust you to send the right message.”

I head to the door before he can say anything else to piss me off.

All I want to do is make sure I give my girl the right idea about that kiss.

There was something on her face before she ran off that I didn’t like.

It wasn’t fear or disgust, it looked like shame.

Nothing about what happened is anything to be upset about, except maybe that we didn’t run right back to my suite to fuck like bunnies.

But there is no sign of Cheyenne, and the van taking us to the nature reserve is all loaded up. It’s going to be a long day away from my mate, a long day of waiting before I can force her to explain her response. I climb in and take my seat next to Nonna.

I text the new manager of our personal pier and make sure he gives Cheyenne a good spot and she doesn’t pay for a thing while she relaxes. Whatever she wants from here on out is on me. No exceptions.

“Where’s Luca?” Andrea asks, leaning forward.

“Got called up for a meeting. We waiting on anyone else?” Looking around the minibus, there is only one empty seat, so I tap the driver’s shoulder to get us moving. “The birds won’t wait forever. ”

The drive up the mountain is disturbingly quiet.

A few of the guys who worked the late guard rounds are sleeping, Andrea and Junelle are playing some phone game, but everyone else has some massive book in their hand.

Even Nonna has one on her lap, a fancy magnifier clipped to the top of it.

I lean over slightly to see what’s got even my grandma so enthralled she doesn’t want to tell us some story about when she and Nonno were young.

Valerie’s sharp cry echoed around the empty bar. Blaze moved his hand from her breast and wrapped it around her throat. He squeezed, the rapid beat of her pulse making his dick harder.

“You like that, don’t you, dirty girl?” he taunted. “The big scary biker fucking your ass raw?”

He emphasized his next thrust by biting hard on her shoulder. She nodded, tears glistening down her cheeks while her arousal dripped down her thigh. God yes, he was right. Valerie was addicted to all his roughness, all the ways Blaze took her, trying to find the bottom of her depravity.

But she’d never tell him.

Mary, Mother of God, what in the fuck is this? My cheeks heat up envisioning the scene I read. Is that what this whole book is?

Teresa, one of the many cousins on this trip, gasps behind me.

Her palm is pressed against her mouth in shock.

Her sister Rebecca shoves her in the shoulder and tells her to shush.

I rotate more in my seat to see Nonna’s younger sister, Romina, bite her nail as she reads.

Is everyone on this trip but me reading porn?

“Here,” Junelle whispers, sliding her e-reader over my shoulder. “You might get some ideas from this.”

Andrea winks at me, his grin fucking stupid.

I click the power button, and the cover on display has a half-naked man with his jeans popped open. His Ballerina’s Secret by Remi Roman. Sounds a little weird, but okay. I tap through the first few pages, stopping at the table of contents. Jesus, it has forty chapters.

This can’t all be porn. Not that I’ve got a problem with what anyone reads, but when my loud family is this quiet, I want to know why. I fold my arms across my chest and get reading.

He grabbed the assailant by the throat and slammed him into the ground. If this guy thought he could attack Dante’s wife, he was going to find out what happened to scum. Dante replaced his hand with his boot to hold the shit stain down before he looked at his wife.

Because that’s what Paisley was to him, wasn’t she?

This reaction wasn’t because he’d agreed to keep her stalker at bay.

She was his old lady, his tiny dancer who brought a shining light into his dark life.

Her happiness was all he craved anymore.

Drinking and going out with the boys didn’t have the same effect.

A ride across the state didn’t clear his head the way falling asleep in her arms did .

And this fucker tried to hurt her.

I didn’t see a single bird all morning. Much to everyone’s amusement, I stayed attached to the small tablet in my hand while we hiked around. Andrea and Junelle lead us up and down familiar trails while a guide points out different bird calls and nests, but I’m engrossed.

This is how I am through the picnic lunch and on the drive back to the villa.

I’m so completely absorbed in this fictional world, it’s only the smell of Cheyenne walking into the sitting room where all the women have congregated that I realise how late it’s got.

Even the handful of nail technicians with their acetone and lotions didn’t faze me.

Jesus, reading can be dangerous, I guess.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” She drops her beach bag by the door. “There was a huge, like, policed-off area next to the pier. Dino had to drive around it and there was traffic.”

Her shirt is dry, but there is a clear area of dampness around her shorts implying she’s been swimming. What do her bottoms look like? Are they lavender? Do they tie together at the sides the way her bikini top does? God, I’d unwrap her like a present on Christmas morning.

There is a red glow across her cheeks and chest from a sunburn. What I wouldn’t give to be rubbing her down in aloe right now, feeling her softness give and mould to my firm hands.

From the corner of the room, Cristina clears her throat.

She raises her eyebrow at me. Well shit.

I look down at my hands, covered in dark grey fur and tipped with razor-sharp claws.

A glance around the room shows that my capo is the only person who noticed.

She gives me a thumbs up when I swipe my hand through my thicker than normal hair.

No fucking ears at least. I don’t think she’d ever let me live that down.

“We are just getting started, Chey, put on some dry clothes and you can pick out a colour.” Junelle smiles. “Then I want the tea on the new idea you had.”

I watch Cheyenne go. Every fibre of my being screams to chase her.

Hunt her down and pin her to the ground so she knows not to leave a room before I say she can.

Between everything that has happened this morning and the ideas this book is absolutely giving me, I need to get my woman locked down before I do something drastic like bite her throat while Junelle walks down the aisle.

My head turns in the direction of her room, and I wait until I hear the lock click shut before I stand up.

Each step is like I’ve got concrete shoes.

My feet drag across the house until I get to the kitchen.

A drink should take the edge off, something to dull my senses for the afternoon.

Maybe I’ll sit by the pool in the fresh air, where I won’t be able to smell Cheyenne, where no one will bother me and finish this book.

Dino: About to tap out for the day. Nicky’s taking over for me.

Dino: Also Giancarlo wanted me to relay this to you?

Why the fuck didn’t he just text me? I even messaged him this morning personally. He’s a weird guy, but he’s loyal to the family beyond comparison. I guess that means the hierarchy of it as well.

Dino: “Ciao Mr Benetti, thank you so much for this opportunity. We greatly enjoyed taking care of your special guest and any future guests you send down to our pier. It was a pleasure to serve her. She was exceptionally kind. In your message this morning you mentioned to place anything she ordered on your tab. Please find the receipt for the day for your information. It has already been taken care of.”

A picture of a very short receipt comes through. One slice of watermelon. That’s it. Not even a glass of water or a sandwich. Cheyenne was down there all damn day. She must be fucking starving .

She was so red when she rushed into the house. Could she have heatstroke? My body moves while my mind races with questions. I slap together some of the leftover bits from our picnic and fill a pitcher with ice water.

Me: Got it. Thanks for the update.

Dino: So should I be watching this girl more closely or…

Those fucking dots hang heavy in the air.

I can take care of my own mate, but I can’t be everywhere.

It’d probably be good to get Cheyenne adjusted to this lifestyle, to always having one of my guys with her when I’m not around.

But saying all that to Dino before I’ve even mentioned to the rest of the family would step on too many toes.

Me: No.

There, settled. I shove my phone into my pocket and start towards Cheyenne’s room. If she isn’t going to take proper care of herself, I sure fucking am.

I’m her mate, just as much as she is mine.