Monster Queen: The Ex Mate is Back For Revenge

The Second Meeting

...The Charity Event

She only wanted to forget, to lose herself in the crowd and the merciful numbness of the alcohol.

She was not much of a drinker, but she was on her third glass of whiskey and water.

She had long since loosened up and was smiling uncontrollably at the people who passed by.

And then, she saw him.

Her initial tipsy let go of her as the world around her instantly snapped into focus.

Damien Moon Shield.

There he was, the man who had vanished three weeks ago from her life without a word.

He was the same man who had held her through the night as if she had meant everything.

He was the same man who had left her alone in that hotel room with nothing but the memory of their passionate night, instigating a dull ache in her heart that had stubbornly refused to subside.

He was standing at the far corner of the hall, nursing a drink -the man whose dark and piercing eyes had tormented and consumed her mind.

And when it met mine, I froze.

His tall frame was clad in navy blue pants and a turquoise blue shirt that had the two top buttons undone to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of smooth bronze skin.

He seemed shocked, deliberately looking away after that brief but electric second.

And his obvious dismissal stung like when salt was applied to an open wound.

She scoffed in disbelief at his actions, a slow smile curving her lips. She set her half-empty glass of drink on a nearby table.

He thought that he could just ignore her? And walk away as if nothing had ever happened between them? As if he had not held her and whispered promises against her skin in the dark?

He was wrong.

Cyra stormed toward him without a second thought, determined. She grabbed him just before he could slip away.

"You!" "How dare you?" She demanded.

Damien cursed under his breath, stiffening beneath her warm touch. His wolf roared to life inside of him as that familiar scent of lavender hit him.

He willed his expression to remain blank as he turned to face her. Her eyes bore into him, sharp and questioning. "Let go, Cyra," he growled softly.

Cyra let out a short humorless laugh. "Let go? Like the way you did that night and expected me to forget that you existed?"

The memory of waking to cold sheets and an empty bed flashed through her mind, making her more furious.

Some of the women at a nearby table were watching them with undisguised interest. Damien felt uncomfortable with the glances thrown at them.

But Cyra did not care.

"Please, can we talk about this elsewhere?" he muttered.

"Elsewhere?" she demanded, folding her arms.

If he wanted to walk away without consequences, he was in for a good show.

"You should have done this three weeks ago. But you chose to disappear like a coward?"

"Cyra," Damien snapped in a warning time, stepping forward. His eyes flashed with something primal that frightened her.

She shrugged and began to pull him away from the crowd to the back exit, complying.

The moment they reached, she slammed his back against the wall and faced him squarely. "You are a hit-and-run man!" she spat.

The frustration in her voice was evident as she gestured wildly.

"Is that what you do? "You make love to women and then vanish by morning?" She demanded.

"It is not what you think," Damien said wearily. He lifted a hand to rub his temple, willing his hyperactive wolf to calm down.

"Oh, please, you used me!" Cyra snapped in pain.

Damien stared at her in regret, choosing his words carefully. "I- I just had to leave."

"Why? "Am I not good enough?" she challenged him, tilting her chin up defiantly.

Silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken desire as the tension built. They held each other's gazes fiercely.

"Mate!" Damien tried to restrain his hungry wolf that was howling in his ears.

He swallowed as she took a step closer, her eyes burning fiercely. He could not think, feeling the heat that radiated from her body.

He wanted Cyra.

He needed to claim her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked in a dangerous seductive voice. "I know you feel it too."

His breath came in a gasp, his chest rising and falling rapidly as all of his blood rushed downwards. It took all he had to not kiss her.

"Cyra, you do not understand-"

"Then make me," she interrupted as she grabbed his collar. His hands twitched at his sides, and he clenched them into fists.

Electricity cackled between them, the same one that had pulled them together that night, three weeks ago. It was an invisible force that had drawn them to each other in that crowded bar.

Desire quietly wrapped around them until it was hard to breathe. She stood on her tippy-toes to sniff his neck. His pupils instantly dilated as her tongue grazed his skin.

"Cyra," he said of her name in a hoarse voice. "Don't."

But she was not listening. For three weeks, she had felt half alive until this moment, here with him. She claimed his lips in a soft kiss.

Damn the consequences!

The moment her lips touched his, everything ended. His control snapped and something wild and uncontrollable coursed to the surface -his wolf, Valen.

His hands moved, one to wrap around her waist and the other to pull her flush against him till there was not even an inch between their bodies.

She kissed him back with the same urgency. Her entire senses were enveloped with passion while her fingers tangled in his hair.

The kiss was not soft or gentle. It was raw and desperate, filled with every emotion that he had tried so desperately to bury. He tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

She moaned softly.

The sound got him hard as rock, needy. Her thighs rubbed against his bulge and the sound he made was barely human. It was a growl that vibrated through him.

One moment, they were against the wall, and the next they were stumbling towards the garage where his car was packed.

He drew her into the back of the Audi, freed his bulge and entered her while she straddled him. And he rocked her till they came, a tangled sweaty mess.

He drove them to her apartment, wanting more. Her hands did not stop even as he drove, massaging his c**k all the way home.

They barely made it inside when they arrived at her apartment building. Their hands worked, roaming their bodies.

Clothes were torn and scattered across the tiled floor of her flat. He took her against the door, ramming her with her legs wrapped around her waist.

The world around them became insignificant, and nothing else mattered but the taste of him on her tongue and the feel of her fingers on his skin.

And after she arrived with both of her legs vibrating, he muttered the promise of more as he carried her to her bedroom.

It was there that he touched her, memorizing every inch of her body like it was going to be the last time. He whispered sweet nothing's to her, yielding to her breathless pleas.

Their bodies came together with the desperate intensity of those that feared that the coming of the dawn would tear them apart. And somewhere in the back of her mind, Cyra knew that it could be true.

But she pushed the thought away, losing herself at the moment because for now he was there. He was real, moving above her.

By the time it ended, she was completely exhausted, her mind hazy with delirious satisfaction.

She rested her head on his chest, feeling warm and safe, as if she had always belonged there.

That night, Cyra slept.