by Piper Fox
He’s practically pushing me out the door of my office before I even have a chance to argue, to make a stance against leaving. It feels wrong, making all this his problem. But between the wound and the adrenaline, I don’t feel like I can find the words to argue against him.
I grab a scarf from the coatrack near the front door, a semi-forgotten birthday present from a foster mother who had no idea that her husband tried to touch all the little girls in their care, and hold it against my wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding enough to drive home.
The drive home goes by in a blur. I don’t remember it. Probably means I shouldn’t have been driving in the first place, but at least I’m home. By the time I make it into my bathroom and start stripping out of my clothes to get cleaned up, the scarf is red with blood. But the wounds are healing.
Fast.
Too fast.
I could’ve sworn the gashes in my abdomen were puncture wounds, deep enough that they’d probably ooze for a while before they scabbed over enough to stop. What I see in the mirror isn’t anywhere near as deep as I thought.
In fact, it almost looks like the wounds are days old. Not minutes.
Is being a hyena contagious? Did Billy leave me with some sort of weird shifter disease through his claws that’s making the wound heal faster, trapping his pathogens inside me?
It’s almost enough for me to want to reopen the wounds, just to flush them out with peroxide.
Instead, I clean off the blood and hop in the shower. I look like a hot mess, between sleeping on my office couch last night and battling supernatural creatures this morning. I just want to pull on comfy yoga pants and a hoodie and curl up in bed until Gage shows up and explains what the hell just happened.
By the time I’m clean and dressed, it’s like the wounds were never there. I’m completely healed, not even a faint scar to prove my battle worthiness.
I get dressed and pull my wet hair up into a messy bun, knowing that it’ll take longer to dry like that, but not wanting to deal with it dripping down my back all day either. It’s not like I want to go anywhere or see anyone.
A knock on my door makes me jump.
I’m never jumpy.
Is this what happens when you get a peek at a world you never knew existed? Is this what I have to look forward to, the rest of my life?
As I check who it is through the peephole, I let out a sigh of relief and pull open the door to let Gage in.
He’s dressed in clean clothes, more like the outfit he wore last night, and he moves like he doesn’t have any residual pain from his wounds either.
“Is rapid healing a shifter trait?” I ask the question before I really have a chance to think about whether it’s rude, or if he’s just putting on a brave face, but he’s actually in agony.
“It is. But not specifically shifter. A lot of supernatural creatures have it.” He smirks. “It comes with the longer lifespan and the ability to stay young longer.”
I pull up my hoodie, revealing the complete lack of wound. “Am I a shifter now? Did Billy turn me?”
Gage takes my hand and leads me to the sofa, pulling me down next to him. Practically on top of him. “You really don’t know anything about shifters? I would’ve thought, with Tyler…”
“Tyler? What about Tyler? Are you saying he’s…? Oh, God, does he like, spy on me for you people?” I shake my head, refusing to believe that Tyler, my sweet, nerdy, kind, Clark Kent of a best friend, could be a double agent.
Gage sighs. “Let me start at the beginning.” He shifts on the couch, and before I really realize what he’s doing, he’s got one leg against the back of the sofa cushions, and I’m somehow nestled between his thighs, with his arms around me and my head resting against his chest.
“Shifters aren’t turned, or bitten, or anything like what the movies would have you believe. We’re born, just like humans, just like most every creature on the planet. It’s in our genetic code, like eye color or height.” He pauses, and I feel his cheek brush against mine for just a second, almost like a nuzzle. “Tyler is the same guy you’ve always known. We don’t have some nefarious underground club, and we don’t spy on people. And no, you’re not going to suddenly turn into a shifter. I’d smell it on you if you had an animal in you.”
“Why did I heal so quickly? If I’m not a shifter…?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself the same question since last night. There’s no way you should’ve been able to get within fifty yards of Molly’s Place last night. She had the place warded, like she does every new moon, to keep mortals away. They just suddenly get the thought in their head to go somewhere else. Or so she says. The rapid healing would indicate that you—you’re not mortal.”
I look up at him, confused. “What you do mean, not mortal? I’m human. I’ve never shifted into anything, I don’t have magical powers, no matter what the snarky boy in elementary school said. I’m just me.”
“Be that as it may, Killer, something is different about you. Just because you’ve never shown any signs of being supernatural, doesn’t mean you can’t, or you won’t. There are plenty of creatures that mature into their abilities, and an incalculable number of ways to damper or mask abilities if someone wants to keep them hidden.” He leans over me and brushes a kiss over my lips. “Whatever you are, you’re still you.”
I shiver slightly at the kiss, surprised by the tender motion. “How, though?”
“The most likely scenario is that one or both of your parents are supernatural. You don’t know anything about them?”
I shake my head. “I’m not one of those kids who secretly longed for famous parents or tried to run away from the group homes to find them. They left me. They were just the first in a long line of people who treated me like crap. Why should I care where I came from? They clearly didn’t care about me.”
Gage’s brow furrows, and then he shifts to scoot out from behind me. “It’s their loss, then.” His arms slide under me, one cradling my back, and the other under my knees, and I bite back the urge to tell him not to bother trying, that I’m too heavy.
But then I’m up in his arms, and the fear melts away.
Or at least the fear of hurting him, of weighing too much for him to carry.
It does nothing for the fear of what’s about to happen.
I may not be some chaste virgin, but I’m certainly not vastly experienced either. And the experience that I do have hasn’t been great. What if I let this happen, I let him get me naked, and it sucks? Or I suck?
I don’t want to lose the only connection to this supernatural world, to answers that I may need. Especially if more of the skips I put away start coming out of the woodwork, hellbent on revenge.
Gage smirks as he lays me on my bed, pinning my hips between his hands. “What’s got your brow all furrowed, Killer?”
My gaze drops to his throat, where I don’t have to meet his intense eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this? With me?”
His thumb and index finger hook around my chin and he lifts my gaze, waiting until I’m really looking at him before he speaks. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. You got to see one of my biggest secrets today. I think it’s only fair I get a little reward for that.” He licks his lips as his hands slide up the front of my hoodie. “And I think you deserve something to take your mind off everything that’s happened today.”
I groan as his hands come up to cup my breasts, bare under the sweatshirt. Right this moment, letting him make me forget, letting him take what he wants, and maybe, just maybe, getting something out of it too, isn’t such a bad idea.
Gage’s eyes flash as he realizes just how little I’ve got on under my shirt, and he lets out a husky, sexy growl as his fingers circle my nipples, teasing them into tight points.
“Fuck, Gage.” I close my eyes and arch my back, filling his hands with more of me.
He responds by using his forearms to push the hoodie higher, and I help him pull it off, tossing it onto the flo
or.
As he looks at my naked torso, another shiver runs down my spine—this time in anxious anticipation. I’ve never had a guy look at me like he wants to devour me whole, or like I’m a tasty treat worthy of devouring.
If his actual sexual prowess is half as good as the fire burning in his eyes, I’m going to be a damned lucky woman tonight.
Gage steps closer, bending to twirl his tongue over one nipple. His hips bump into mine, and there’s no denying the huge rod in his jeans. I’m not sure how he can possibly be comfortable, keeping a beast like that contained. The small peek I stole in my office earlier isn’t nearly enough. I want to see him. I want to touch him.
Hell, I might even be tempted enough to taste him.
“Do you have a condom?” I groan out the question, struggling to find any part of me that actually cares. Not when his mouth is doing such torturously delicious things to my boobs.
“Don’t need one.” He’s practically purring, and the words are muffled as he continues to lavish attention on my breasts.
With a grunt, I push him back a step, so that I can look at him.
I need a real answer, because it’s not making much sense to me.
“I’m not letting some panther shifter I just met knock me up or give me a disease, Gage. Condom, or this isn’t happening.” I cross my arms over my chest, but the gesture loses some of its potency as it just presses my breasts together and up higher for him to stare at.
He starts unbuttoning his shirt as he says, “Shifters can’t get anyone but their claimed mate pregnant. And along with the rapid healing comes an invulnerability to human disease. Neither of your concerns are something to really worry about.”
“So says you.” I counter, even as my resolve is crumbling rapidly under the abs he’s slowly exposing to me. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”
“Killer, I would never lie to you. I have no reason to.” He shrugs off his shirt, and then his hands go to his pants. “Do you need to phone Tyler and ask? The wolf’s young, but there are some things shifters, especially the males, learn early.”
I frown at the sudden mention of Tyler. I still don’t have enough answers about him, even though Gage just let a particularly juicy tidbit drop.
I really don’t want to call him for advice on whether I should have sex with another man.
With pursed lips, I watch Gage’s pants drop.
“If you’re lying to me, I’ll fucking kill you.”
He just laughs as he crawls onto the bed, caging my body beneath his.
“I have no doubt you could, Ryanne. But I’m not lying. I would never.” He cups my cheek as his mouth descends on mine.
His lips are slightly chapped, and his kiss is far from gentle as his tongue probes into my mouth hungrily. His free hand slides into the front of my yoga pants and cups my pussy, making me moan into his kiss, needy and desperate for more.
I don’t know what it is about Gage, but something tells me I’m going to get more than I bargained for as he pushes my yoga pants down lower. I help him ease them over my hips, crying out as his teeth bite into my lower lip.
He groans into my mouth as his fingers slip through my wet folds, just barely teasing my opening before he circles my clit. “Fuck, you’re wet.”
I press my hips up into his palm, wanting more. Needing more.
I can’t remember ever being this aroused, this ready for sex.
With Gage, it seems like all my rules, everything I think I know about how sex should be, has gone right out the window.
Too Close for Comfort
GAGE
I want to be good for Ryanne.
Her soft curves, her full hips, and heavy breasts, all make me ache with need, but giving in, sinking my cock into her warm, wet heat, will make it all end too quickly.
I want to drag this out for her as long as possible.
After all, I can only have my first time once, right?
I kiss my way down her neck, rubbing against her, marking her with my scent as I make a trail of invisible lip prints along her skin. Her breasts are divine, with pert, taut nipples that beg to be licked, sucked, tasted. The way she grips my hair, the way she moans my name in that husky, sex-laden voice of hers, just proves that I’m giving her what she needs. Not to mention the way she rocks her hips into my hand, soaking my fingertips with her arousal with every touch.
It’s not enough. Fuck, it might never be enough. I’ve waited all my life, over a century, for the right woman. Now that I have her, there’s no way I’m giving her up.
I continue kissing down her body, even as she tenses slightly when my lips brush over her stomach.
The tension melts away again as I drop onto my knees and spread her legs wider apart, giving me my first view of her cunt.
I take my time, dragging my fingers through her folds, spreading her open for me, teasing her clit with light, soft touches.
She’s so responsive, I want to learn everything that makes her happy. Everything that makes her continue to moan, to writhe against the bed.
“Gage, just fucking do something.”
Oh, my impatient little mate. I intend to.
Leaning forward, I mimic the motions of my fingers with my tongue, tasting her sweet arousal for the first time.
The deep moan she lets loose is almost enough to make me stop and sink every inch of my aching cock inside her, just to feel more of her.
But not before she comes on my tongue.
I fuck her with my mouth, thrusting into her pussy with a groan, tasting her as deep as my tongue can manage.
In response, her thighs press in against my cheeks, and her hips buck up.
I let out a growl, using my hands to hold her open for me. She’s mine, and I’ll taste her as much as I please. I could get drunk on the taste of her pussy on my lips, so heady is her arousal.
Ryanne’s hips rock up into my face, as if she wants my tongue deeper, or she needs something bigger filling her up.
I want to tell her that it’s all in due time, that she can have my cock, but not until she comes for me. Instead, I redouble my efforts, thrusting my tongue into her again and again, just to drag it out and up over her clit, sucking on the tight bundle of nerves that leaves her mewling like a kitten.
“Gage…I’m gonna…” She’s moaning, writhing, barely forming comprehensible words, as her hips press harder into my mouth and her cunt seems to grow even wetter.
My panther and I are both purring over the taste.
Her hand grips my hair and tugs as she cries out, arching up into me more, giving over to her release. I can feel her pussy clenching around my tongue, getting even tighter, and I can’t wait to feel how incredible she feels when I fill her deep.
I keep licking and sucking until her fingers release my hair and her hips drop back to the bed. Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, I look up at her with a grin. “You taste incredible, Killer.”
She groans as she crooks a finger at me, gesturing for me to come back up there.
I do, but I take my time, kissing and touching, ensuring that she’s just as achy, just as needy for my cock, as I am to bury it inside her.
Ryanne wraps her legs around my hips, pressing up against my length. “I want you, Gage.”
“You have me.” I grind against her, gyrating and pressing my length through her folds, soaking my dick with her wet.
I’m so hard, I’m not sure how long I can last with her. I want her panting, moaning, as close to the edge as I am. I want this to be good for her. I keep repeating that to myself as I reach down between us and position my tip at her core for the first time. She’s so wet, so tight, almost as soon as I’m in position, it’s like her body’s trying to pull me inside, pull me deeper.
“Are you sure about this?” I hate myself for asking, but I’d hate myself more if she didn’t want this as much as I do.
“Just fuck me, Gage.” Her eyes are heavy with arousal, and when her hands come up to touch her own breasts, to cup the
heavy, full globes, I groan.
Pushing forward slowly, I watch the emotions play over her face, the need, the ache, mirroring my own. Could it be that she really does want this as much as I do?
When I’m finally fully seated inside her cunt, I let out a moan and lean down to kiss her, needing more connection, more of my mate.
The longer I’m with her, the more certain I am. She’s mine.
Even my panther seems to agree.
I rock my hips back, until just my tip is nestled inside her warm, wet heat, and then I thrust forward again, making both Ryanne and her bed groan under the intensity.
She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me flush against her, from pelvis to lips. Her hips rock against mine, her soft body giving against my harder one, and she kisses me just as hungrily as I kiss her, our tongues battling between her mouth and mine.
It’s all so sweet, so hot, I’m not sure how I’m going to last with her.
Reaching between us again, I let my fingers circle her clit, teasing her as I fuck her harder, our bodies slapping together roughly with every thrust. Ryanne moans into my mouth, her pussy clenching a little around my cock, and it’s almost enough to make me blow my load.
Almost.
I keep thrusting, keep fucking her, harder, faster, rougher, until that one flutter of a grip on my cock grows into a tight grasp, clamping down so hard I can’t help but give in. My release comes in spurts, filling her up as her body continues to grip and tighten around me.
When Ryanne breaks our kiss to moan out my name, it may be the sweetest sound I’ll ever hear.
I hardly want to pull from her. It would be so much better to just stay connected, just continue kissing and touching until I’m hard again and can feel her give herself over to her release again.
But I slip from her as I soften, and she lets out a moan of protest.
Gathering her into my arms, I pull her blanket over the both of us, creating a cocoon to block out the rest of the world. “Ryanne, that was…” I kiss her softly as my hand strokes down her back slowly. “Indescribable.”
Her cheeks flush as her eyes drop, away from my own. “It wasn’t bad?”