Savage Predator by Delta James

Author:Delta James [and Delta James, Felicity Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Delta James

Chapter 19

Flynn

He hugged Devon for the longest time, holding her close until her breathing slowed and her head fell against his shoulder. Planting a kiss on her crown, Flynn mused on the events of the last few hours. He’d come to her room, looking for possible links to Schumacher and, if he was lucky, a night of decent sex. He’d never anticipated anything more, anything kinky, or anything that stirred his soul, yet Devon’s submission had done just that.

Breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, he acknowledged what should have been obvious. This innate sense of repletion—the solace of having her close and soothing her fears—was irrefutably satisfying. Sure, it wasn’t the same potent gratification he’d relished when he’d claimed her backside, but the intimacy was as profound as it was unexpected.

Was it possible he could fall for a woman so quickly? Could the surging arousal and hormones he was experiencing be anything other than the contrived scenarios of his imagination? Hell, hadn’t he mocked Mason and Zak for lurching into romantic clinches this fast? His brow furrowed at the rambling queries as Devon stirred in his arms.

“Shhh,” he soothed, rising from the chair and lifting her with him. He carried her back to the bed, yanked down the covers, and pulled them over her body.

It pained him to leave her, the ball of energy in his chest aching as he watched her roll into the fetal position, but he had no choice. He had to get back to the ocean before its incessant call amplified so loudly, it drowned out his need for Devon. The Kraken beckoned him, no matter what was happening in life, and it seemed tonight would be no different. Flynn had to make it to the water soon before his body transmuted right here in Devon’s room.

Glancing around, he looked for a notepad he could scrawl a message on, but frustratingly, there wasn’t one. Flynn quietly rifled through the dresser’s drawers, hoping for something—anything—he could use but found nothing. He sighed, knowing he could text her but preferring the personal touch.

“Flynn?” Her voice was sleepy as she glanced around. “Master, where are you going?”

His lips curled as he made his way to her bedside, perching on the edge of the mattress.

“I have to get going, baby.” He leaned down and kissed her face, wishing he could slide into the sheets and a whole lot more. “I was going to leave you a note.”

“Do you really have to go?” Her brow creased as though she couldn’t believe she had asked. Before he’d reassured her, Devon had seemed desperate for him to leave before someone saw them together, but soothed, she was much softer and in need of his touch.

“I’m afraid so. I wish I could stay.”

He really did, but it didn’t bear thinking about the repercussions if he overstayed his welcome. If Devon was concerned about the possible military fallout of their liaison, she’d be staggered by the Oceanic Whitetip lurking inside him. He hoped

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