Page 19

JAKE

Two years later . . .

The auditorium is dark when I slip in unnoticed — the lone intruder at the closed rehearsal. Canned orchestral music plays from the speakers, and the place is empty apart from three seats in the front row.

The rehearsal director, choreographer, and venue manager watch as Elena and her partner move across the stage. She’s dressed in a lilac leotard, nude tights, and a see-through white skirt that taunts me as it floats around her thighs.

The hot stage lights beat down on the dancers, and my shifter vision follows a single bead of sweat as it slips down the front of Elena’s leotard. Her partner is a svelte Ukrainian dancer named Danilo, who twirls my mate around the stage as effortlessly as someone with shifter strength.

I might be stewing with jealousy at seeing another man put his hands all over her if it weren’t for how much I like Danilo. He’s been practicing tirelessly with Elena for the last six weeks to get her ready for opening night.

This is the last rehearsal before her debut as a professional ballerina.

The closing number culminates in something called an angel lift, and Elena’s been a nervous wreck all week. I’m not worried. I’ve seen her and Danilo execute this lift perfectly a hundred times in rehearsal, but sometimes emotional scars run deeper than physical ones.

It was this type of lift that made her think she’d never be a professional ballet dancer, but she spent a year training with someone who specializes in rehabbing TBIs in athletes, and she’s been improving week by week.

A few months ago, she received an invitation to audition for the New York City Ballet. Lena insisted she wasn’t ready, but there was no way in hell I was going to let her pass up this opportunity.

She got the spot, and we moved to New York. The company works her harder than I’ve ever trained for a fight, and she crawls back to our tiny apartment every night, exhausted but happy.

Watching her float across the stage like a butterfly, I’m so fucking proud she’s my mate.

The little velvet box nestled against my thigh is practically burning a hole in my pocket. Inside is the engagement ring I picked out for Elena. It’s been sitting in my sock drawer for over a month. Tonight I’ll ask her to be my wife.

The dancers finish the number, and the director tells them to take five. Elena’s gaze snags on me, lurking at the back of the auditorium. I know she can sense me even if she can’t see me — just another perk of the mating mark .

“What are you doing here?” she asks as soon as she’s within earshot.

“Thought I’d come by and wish you good luck,” I say.

Not that she needs it. The girl works harder than any dancer in the company, and she’s got the choreography down pat.

Elena smiles, and the sight of her sweaty, exhausted, and so damn happy makes my chest ache with joy. “You’re not supposed to wish someone good luck. You’re supposed to say ‘break a leg.’”

“See, you still have so much to teach me,” I say, taking her by the hand and pulling her closer. Perspiration heightens her scent and sends all the blood rushing to my cock.

“ Clearly .”

I drop my voice to a low murmur, even though there’s no one nearby. “Like . . . how to get inside you when you’re wearing this.” I gesture at her ballerina getup, which, besides naked, is my favorite look on Elena.

Her nipples pebble up through the thin fabric of her leotard, and she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Shh.” She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder, a nervous grin tugging at her lips.

“I think we need to rehearse a lift of our own,” I growl, gripping her around the waist and hoisting her up.

Elena laughs and twines her arms around my neck, but her expression turns serious as I seat her soft core against my throbbing cock.

“We’re on a break,” she whispers, glancing back toward the stage.

I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “Then we’ll have to be quick. ”

Before she can utter another note of protest, I yank her out of the auditorium and into the deserted vestibule. I capture her mouth in a kiss as I back her into an empty coat closet, the taste of salt on her lips making my wolf perk up.

A low moan rumbles up my chest as I tweak her nipple through her leotard. My other hand finds its way under that gauzy skirt, touching her through her clothes. Elena moans, and I clap my hand over her mouth as she grinds her hips against me.

Fuck . This must be why they have closed rehearsals. How’s a guy supposed to pleasure his mate when they only give the dancers five-minute breaks?

Exercise always makes her horny, and judging by the way she’s riding my hand, Elena is wet and ready. I shove aside the fabric at her crotch, but her tights form a nylon seal that’s tougher to crack than a damned chastity belt.

Getting impatient, I grab the top of her leotard and tug it down her shoulders. Elena sucks in a gasp and covers her breasts, which only makes it hotter.

I wiggle the leotard down over her hips and yank her tights down with it. I’m pleased to see she’s not wearing any underwear. Her delicious pussy is on full display, and I love the idea of fucking her when the rest of the dancers are just on the other side of this wall.

“Good girl,” I whisper, bending down on one knee and running my fingers along her seam. She’s already dripping with need, and my fingers come away drenched in her juices.

I hold her gaze as I lick them one at a time, savoring the taste of her sweetness.

Later tonight, I’ll be getting down on one knee for an entirely different reason, and the thought makes my cock twitch.

Elena trembles at my brazenness, and I dive in to lick her sweet rosebud clit. Her breasts heave as I lap at her nubbin, and her thighs quiver with barely contained need.

I spread her legs wider so I can enter her with my tongue, and she fists her hands in my hair.

“So wet,” I whisper against her sex, pausing to part her flushed lips to gain better access to that tight little bundle of nerves.

Elena moans as I eat her out, lapping up all her nectar. Her thighs tremble as she comes around my tongue, and I know we’re running out of time.

Getting to my feet, I fumble with my belt and tug down my fly. My cock springs free.

Turning her to face the wall, I bend her over and plunge into her from behind. I have the foresight to cover her mouth, and Elena moans around my hand. Her sweet, warm cunt squeezes my dick, and I nearly black out from the sensation.

Fisting the base of her French braid, I pull out slowly and ram back in, eliciting a low grunt. I fuck her harder, using her braid for leverage — filling the closet with the sounds of our lovemaking.

Elena’s walls clench around me as she comes again, and I explode inside of her. I squeeze my eyes shut as I pump in and out a few more times, her pussy milking every last drop of my cum.

She’s still trembling as I slide her tights back up over her ass, running my hand over her mound through the thin material .

She’s panting when I turn her around and tug her leotard back into place.

“I need to clean up,” she whispers, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm.

“No,” I say, wrapping her skirt around her waist and tying it off with a bow. “You’re gonna get back up on that stage and dance your best while my cum drips out of your pussy.”

A look of horror flashes in her eyes. “I can’t.”

“You will .” I bend down to give her a quick peck on the lips, tugging gently on her braid. “Or I’ll have to punish you later.”

Even in the dark, I can see her flush, but there’s a method to my madness.

Elena dances best when she gets out of her own head and just lets her body take over. I figure the slight distraction of my cum leaking out of her might just do the trick.

When I’m sure she’s presentable, I shove her out of the closet and follow a few paces behind as she walks back into the auditorium. I watch from the dark as she rejoins the company, self-consciously straightening her braid.

She dances her final number flawlessly, and when Danilo hoists her up for the big lift, my heart nearly explodes with pride.

You’ve reached the end of Tempted by the Wolf , but you can get a smoking-hot locker-room scene with Jake and Elena when you sign up for Savannah’s Wolf Pack newsletter. Click here to register and get your free bonus!

Want to get Elena’s brother’s story? Check out The Billionaire Alpha’s Assistant.

He’s a billionaire CEO shifter. She’s the assistant from hell.

When you’re an alpha wolf and the CEO, you tend to get what you want. Luxury cars, expensive houses — nothing is off the table. But when my company’s AI software selects my new assistantforme, it throws my perfect world into chaos.

Alex is whip-smart, gorgeous, and the world’s worst assistant. Yet the second she walks through my office door, my wolf growlsmine.

Alex doesn’t treat me like the billionaire CEO of a multinational corporation, and something about that turns me on. This feisty little human is all I want, and yet she’s the one thing I can’t have.

I know it’s a mistake to drag her to my lodge in Aspen to work over Thanksgiving, but I can’t help myself. My wolf wants me to give her my mark and claim her in every possible way.