Claimed by the Wolf Prince by Marguerite Kaye

on the edge of the hot springs, which formed a series of pools on the northern side of Kentarra. Tall, lush trees and ferns, huge orchids and blowsy roses bloomed along the banks.
    Struan touched her cheek. As ever, she shivered in response. As ever, he drew quickly away. It was like this all the time now. Touch. Respond. Retreat. Touch. Respond. Retreat. Until they kissed, and their passion exploded. Until Struan wrenched himself free once again.
    â€œThe look that says you’re about to ask something you shouldn’t, but are going to ask anyway.”
    Iona chuckled. “Well, I am. It’s just…can you all change into a wolf, even the women?”
    Struan nodded. “All true Faol.”
    â€œWhat about those who have been bound?”
    â€œYes. They become like us, share our powers.”
    Iona lifted up a fistful of sand and let it fall through her fingers. “What does it feel like?”
    â€œIt’s not a separate being, it’s part of us. Some can control their wolf more easily than others. For some it happens when they are angry, or tired, or when they are aroused.”
    â€œAnd you?”
    Struan leant back on his hands. He wore no shirt today, just his plaid and his belt. As ever, when she allowed herself to dwell on him, Iona felt a rush of pleasure. She wanted to rub her cheek against the soft hair on his chest. She wanted him to kiss her. She was always wanting him to kiss her.
    â€œI have mastered my wolf,” Struan said.
    â€œ I subdued him, you said. I didn’t understand what you meant at the time.”
    â€œDo you remember me carrying you through the forest?”
    â€œI thought I was dreaming.”
    â€œDid it frighten you?”
    Iona bit her lip. “No. I—the truth is, I find it— I would like to know what it’s like.”
    â€œYou find it exciting?”
    â€œIs that shocking?”
    â€œNo. Surprising. But then, everything about you is surprising.”
    â€œStruan, would you— Can you show me…”
    He found the idea deeply arousing. He found Iona’s obvious fascination even more so. Her eyes were shining. He got to his feet, pulling her with him, and unbelted his plaid.
    Iona’s heart bumped, skipped a beat, then hammered furiously in her breast as she looked at him, magnificently naked. Long legs, powerful thighs, the same tanned biscuit colour all over. He was erect. Hugely erect, his shaft jutting up towards his stomach. He pulled her tight to him. Silken heat. Potent.
    â€œTouch me,” he said, placing her hand on his chest. “Feel me.”
    She smoothed her palms over his skin, closing skimming over his shoulders, hisrolling muscles, feeling them bunch under her. Struan groaned. She felt him arch his back. Under her hands, his skin grew silky soft hairs. A faint stretching noise, like a rope being pulled taut. His thighs bulged. His neck thickened. The sinews in his arms stood out like thick cords, straining with effort. With a huge roar, it was completed, the transformation of man to wolf. The massive beast dropped onto all fours in front of her. Silky ears, the gleam of fangs, but the eyes were the same, fierce and grey and intelligent. Struan.
    She touched his silken coat. She stroked him, breathing deep of his familiar scent, which was feral but also man.
    Struan.
    Wolf.
    Struan.
    It excited her. She ran her hand down his knotted spine, up to his mighty neck, and as she did so, he transformed beneath her touch. Wolf became man. Naked man. She did not want to, but Iona averted her eyes, and Struan hurriedly belted his plaid back into place. “Does it hurt, when it happens?” she asked, fascinated by what she had just witnessed.
    â€œIt feels like your skin is too tight. There’s a second or two when you feel your bones might shatter, and then you feel all that raw animal power surge through you. You’re still yourself, but enhanced.”
    More than a man, Iona