She is the very essence of his immortal life.
He is her soul.
Finn Qualtrough, a Cynn Cruor warrior, is on a mission to find the leader of the Scatha Cruor, Dac Valerian. When he pursues three Scatha warriors who can lead him to Dac, he discovers a woman who awakens a desire within Finn to claim her as his own.
Eirene Spence is an insomniac and a computer genius. Her penchant for midnight walks in the park puts her life in danger when the Scatha Cruor find her. She is saved when a handsome stranger rescues her. His touch ignites a hunger inside her that only he can satisfy.
By a twist of fate, Eirene’s client is Dac Valerian. She can lead Finn—and the rest of the Cynn Cruor—to Dac’s lair. But Dac wants her dead.
Now Finn must fulfill his mission while trying to keep Eirene alive. With Valerian after Eirene, nothing is certain, not even her place in Finn’s life.
There is a growing war between the Cynn Cruor and the Scatha Cruor: two breeds of immortal warriors who carry human, vampire, and werewolf blood. The Cynn Cruor want to live in harmony with the human race. The Scatha Cruor want to enslave them.
It’s time to start preparing for battle.
***CONTENT WARNING: This story contains adult language and sexual situations and intended for audiences 18+ ONLY***
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Eirene floated down from a pure cloud of bliss. Delicious shivers stroked her body when Finn kissed her forehead, then trailed kisses down her temple, making a beeline to nip at her neck. He was semi-hard inside of her and Eirene could feelanother wave of lust teasing her core. She trailed her fingers over his skin and arched her back so her nipples could brush his chest. She heard the low rumble of laughter in Finn’s throat as she began to run her fingertips up and down his back, then slowly caress his tight butt cheeks.
“You’re as insatiable as I am.”
Eirene smiled. “I never realized I was ohhh…”
Finn’s right arm encircled her waist while his left arm braced his weight against the step as he pulled out of her. She sighed, her body boneless and sated. She linked her arms around his neck when Finn lifted her and carried her up the stairs. It felt so good being near Finn. She had never felt safer than she did now, in Finn’s arms. She buried her face in his neck, licking and gently sucking his throat. She inhaled his scent of spice and musk and their joint sensual smell. God, his scent was making her want him again.
Finn walked towards her bedroom and to the bathroom.
“I can see even in the dark, remember?”
Finn set her down in the bathroom before turning on the tap for her. Eirene entered the stall, sighing as the warm water gently rained on her back, her legs wobbly after their passionate lovemaking.
“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll get our clothes from downstairs.”
Eirene had other things in mind.
“A kiss before you go?” She asked as her eyes seduced him. She stepped back to allow Finn to enter the stall.
Finn swooped to take her mouth in another heart stopping kiss. Fire started to swell in her belly. Eirene molded her body against his, their tongues teasing each other. Her hands splayed over his chest, her palms overly sensitive, enjoying the play of his muscles beneath them. Finn drew a hard breath before crushing her to him. Excitement poured into the apex between her thighs when Finn’s cock swelled against her stomach. His breath was harsh with need as his stubble scrapped against her neck before dipping towards her breasts. Eirene arched her back and gave a rapturous moan when his mouth captured her left nipple, twirling the tight erect bud around his tongue. Her hips nudged against him and she smiled when she heard his low growl.
She laughed softly.
“Our clothes,” she whispered.
“Can wait,” he muttered against her areola before he gently grazed it with his teeth.
Eirene reveled at the silky feel of his hair as she held his head about her breast. She moaned at the jolts of electricity his tongue ignited, causing her femininity to weep again. She lifted her leg against his hip and reached down between them to slide her hand up and down Finn’s heated shaft. With a growl, Finn lifted her to allow her to place her legs around his waist. The warmth of the shower spray heightened the sensual atmosphere. Finn lifted her and gently backed her against the wall.
Eirene returned every hard kiss, every thrust of Finn’s tongue against hers. She held him tight, urging him to take her, her gasps coming fast from her lips. Finn ended the kiss and looked at her with smoldering hunger. Eirene’s eyes widened, then fell to half-mast when she felt Finn’s hardness slowly sink into her again. She moaned at the pleasurable sensation of her channel readily bathing his shaft with her slick juices.
“Eirene, look at me. I want to see your eyes as I take you. I want to know how much you want me.”
Eirene’s eyes widened. His commanding words fed her excitement, and she did as he demanded. She looked at his eyes, turbulent with desire. The gold flecks were back in his midnight blue pupils, looking like tiny rays of the sun against a lunar eclipse. The heat of his hunger caressed her, teased her, and claimed her. She felt as though his heat had tiny tendrils which licked at her skin and teased her hardened nipples. She gasped and hummed when Finn placed his hands underneath her ass to hold her closer, his thrusts bringing her nearer to the precipice. Finn turned on the heat by pumping faster, harder, and deeper. Eirene’s breath caught in her throat. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. Her eyelids wanted to close at the sheer ecstasy of Finn’s rod thrusting into her. She whimpered, then looked down. Her channel’s lips felt thick and slick as it ate every inch of Finn’s cock, while it appeared and disappeared into her.
“Eirene…look at me.”
Isobelle Cate is a woman who wears different masks. Mother-writer, wife-professional, scholar-novelist. Currently living in Manchester, she has been drawn to the little known, the secret stories, about the people and the nations: the English, the Irish, the Scots, the Welsh, and those who are now part of these nations whatever their origins. Her vision and passion are fuelled by her interest and background in history and paradoxically, shaped by growing up in a clan steeped in lore, loyalty, and legend.
Isobelle is intrigued by forces that simmer beneath the surface of these cultures, the hidden passions, unsaid desires, and yearnings unfulfilled.