Mason reflected he was getting to be able to read houses as well as Jasmine read cards. At least this one didn’t try to eat people. Well, not so far.
Jasmine smiled at Mason as though she knew his thoughts. Moonlight shone through the uncurtained window, the round disk almost full. The silver light touched Jasmine’s face and dark blue eyes, enhancing her beauty.
Mason laid Jasmine on the bed. She rose on her elbows, watching him.
“Mason, I—”
Mason leaned down and touched his finger to her lips. “Nothing to say.”
“But—”
He pressed a little harder. If Jasmine started questioning, or explaining, Mason might believe he had no business being with her and talk himself out of it.
“We’re here,” he said softly. Mason removed his finger and kissed lightly where he’d touched. “Now. That’s all that matters.”
“I like that.” Jasmine’s breath brushed his lips.
Mason resisted kissing her again and stepped back to slide off his shirt. Jasmine leaned back again, studying him with flattering interest.
“This is nice,” she said. “I always wanted a gorgeous guy doing a striptease for me.”
Mason flushed, face hot. “I don’t dance.” He unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped his jeans as fast as possible and shoved them down his legs, not bothering with elegance.
Jasmine’s gaze moved to his underwear and the hardness he could no longer hide. Her eyes widened when he simply slid off the underwear, his heavy cock tumbling out.
Mason saw no need to be embarrassed about his body and his wanting. How could he not want Jasmine? Her posture thrust her breasts forward a little, her nipples pressing the thin shirt.
Her long legs awaited his touch. Mason stepped to the bed and slid his hands up them, finding the heat and softness of her inner thighs. Jasmine made a noise of contentment, a sound that wrapped Mason’s wanting and heightened it.
One thing did embarrass him, though, and he found himself needing to tell her.
“I haven’t been with many women,” Mason said in a rush. He lifted his hands from her and stood up. “I’m not long past my Transition. But Shifters are kind of programmed to … it’s instinctive …” To screw as often as possible until we have cubs. It’s all we want.
No, that couldn’t be true. Mason wanted Jasmine, no matter whether they mated and had cubs. He wanted her with growing frenzy, didn’t matter how inexperienced he was.
Jasmine looked at him in wonder. She sat up, touching his clenched fist. “Wait, are you saying you’re a virgin? Seriously?”
“Almost,” Mason answered, his frenzy growing until he wasn’t interested in the discussion anymore. He’d had an encounter with a female Lupine for a few weeks right after his Transition—she’d been from another Shiftertown—but he’d been young and uncertain, and the whole thing had ended quickly. He’d never seen her again, and there’s been no question of a mate bond. Groupies at Shifter bars wanted Mason and told him so, but he couldn’t dredge up any enthusiasm for them.
Jasmine lost her smile and tugged Mason a little closer. “I’m glad, actually. I don’t want to be one in a long chain. Another notch on a bedpost.”
“Shifters who do that are stupid,” Mason said without hesitation. “Every act of lovemaking should be special. Shifters never know when we’ll form the mate bond. I’d rather form it with a woman I took time to be with instead of having blown her off in a one-night stand. I’d be hearing about that for the rest of my life.”
“You know, I really do like you.” Jasmine pulled him closer, running her hands up his torso as she stood and slid her arms around his waist, kissing him again.
Mason loosened her shirt as he leaned into her, his hands pulling it off. His kisses turned urgent, and he gathered her against him, loving the feel of her breasts against his chest. He moved one hand to her waistband and then jumped as her cool fingers closed around his cock.
The sound in his throat was primal. Mason tugged open Jasmine’s shorts and sank his fingers into her heat.
Jasmine’s answering groan slid into Mason’s head and sent his body into crazed need. He pushed her shorts all the way down and turned with her in his arms. Jasmine still had hold of his cock, the little smile on her lips when he kissed her again telling him she liked what was in her hands.
Mason slid his fingers once more to the space between her legs, making her lips part, dissolving the smile. Jasmine got an oh, yeah? look on her face, and skimmed her hand up his cock from base to tip.
Mason jerked, and tried to back away. But he’d have to let go of her to do so, and Jasmine wouldn’t release him. “You’re killing me,” he said savagely. His mating frenzy pounded through him, sending his heartbeat searingly high.
“What do you think you’re doing to me?” Jasmine demanded.
She abruptly turned and sat on the bed, but she didn’t release Mason. She tugged at him, and Mason had no choice but to go to her.
He pushed her back into the mattress, arranging her so she lay full length on the bed. Jasmine lost hold of him but she latched on to his cock again as he lay down on her.
“Witch,” he said with a growl.
“Psychic,” Jasmine countered.
Mason could have made some kind of a joke about predicting what would happen next, but he had no more interest in teasing. He touched Jasmine’s face as she lay under him, enjoying the satin feel of her skin.
“You’re beautiful,” Mason said softly. “The minute I saw you, I … changed.”
Mason wasn’t certain what he meant, but Jasmine’s eyes warmed. Mason had seen her beauty, the openness of her. He ran his fingertips from her arm to her breast, tracing the flowers and vines, then he leaned down, as he had in the motel room, and traced them again with his tongue.
Jasmine relaxed beneath him, letting out an mmm of contentment.
The taste of her, a mixture of salty and sweet, built the need to touch, lick, kiss this woman. Mason moved his mouth between her breasts, kissing there, then drawing his tongue all the way up to her throat.
Jasmine’s chest rose with her breath, her hands coming up to stroke Mason’s back. His heart pounded, his cock aching as it brushed between her thighs, feeling the same damp heat his fingers had found.
Jasmine smiled up at him, moonlight catching in her blue eyes, her short hair casting black streaks over her cheeks. Mason nuzzled locks of hair aside, kissing her face, her chin, back to her throat.
A longing to be inside her gripped him and didn’t let go. No need in his life had been this intense, not even the natural frenzy that took hold of him just after his Transition. Then he’d wanted something but didn’t really know how to find it. Now he knew—it was Jasmine.
She touched his face, drew her hand down his side, snaked it around to his cock again. Mason groaned as her fingers danced on him, thumb sliding over his tip.
Damn it. Mason yanked himself away from her, rolling off the bed and standing upright, while Jasmine looked at him in surprise.
“I can’t go slow if you touch me like that,” Mason said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll just take you.”
“I like slow.” Jasmine touched her finger to her lips. Whether she did that on purpose to bait him, or unconsciously, it was erotic as hell. “Fast can be good too.”
She reached for his hand, but Mason backed away. If he came to her now, he’d simply thrust inside, spend himself, and collapse. He didn’t want to be clumsy, rushed. He wanted to savor.
His body was having other ideas. Mason clenched his fists, his temperature soaring, skin damp. He made himself walk to the nightstand, where he knew his brothers kept a stash of condoms, opened the drawer, and withdraw one. They were large enough for Shifters—his horny brother Derek would ensure that.
Jasmine said nothing about the condom. She lifted on her elbows again, watching as Mason tore the packet open and rolled it on. The touch of cold latex was annoying but didn’t dampen the heat that roiled through him.
“I could help you with that, you know,” Jasmine said softly. “More fun.”
Mason had no idea women even wanted to touch the things. Next time. He was already determined there would be a next time.
Mason came down to her. He wanted to be bare against her, nothing between them, but he’d wait until they were officially mated. Then there would be no barrier, and they’d let frenzy take them all night and all day.
Jasmine’s face changed from smiles and teasing to need that matched his own. Mason nudged her knees open, lowering himself all the way on top of her. His experience was very slight, but he had older brothers who had never held back their graphic descriptions.
Mason knew exactly how to position himself, bracing his fists against the mattress, and slide inside her.
Jasmine let out a faint cry, her eyes half closing, her hips rocking up as though she couldn’t help herself. Mason pressed all the way in …
And everything in the world suddenly became sharp and clear. Fog rolled away from his mind, as though all that he’d seen before had been only half formed.
Wild sensation began where they joined in one hot point, then traveled through his body, lightning streaks of fiery joy. Mason looked down at Jasmine, seeing all of her for the first time—her beauty both in her body and deep inside her.
Goddess, if he’d known loving a woman would be like this, he wouldn’t have waited.
But no, this was Jasmine. Worth the wait.
Mason drew in a long breath, exhaling onto her skin, touching her with his scent. Mine.
He’d thought the feeling he drowned in was the best life could offer. That is, until he drew back and thrust again.
Astonishing awareness washed over him, streaking down every nerve, building fire all the way to his fingertips.
He thought that feeling the best in the world just before Jasmine squeezed down on him. Mason let out a cross between a shout and a groan. Goddess, Goddess, thank you.
His thoughts scattered, and sensation took over. So did frenzy. Mason lost coherence, only knowing the softness of Jasmine, the scent of her, her heat that filled him even as he filled her.
He thrust again and again, knowing sounds came out of his mouth, blending with the little noises of pleasure that came out of Jasmine’s. She held him tightly, fingers pressing, urging him on, her frenzy as great as his. Her hair tangled on the pillow, her blue eyes captured him, and moonlight brushed them both.
Mason’s world went through upheaval again as he spiraled to the point of his coming. Jasmine moved beneath him, her breasts against his chest, the points of her nipples tight. She was coming under him, the rock of her hips, her sudden cries of joy making her even hotter where he thrust into her.
Her pressure around him, the sweet sounds she made, her warmth and fragrance, shoved Mason over the top. He came and came, pounding the mattress with his fist, his body shuddering and moving.
Jasmine was right there with him, their bodies sealed together, she coming off the bed to meld with him for their final thrusts.
Mason crashed down on her, his blood searing, the astonishing joy that flooded him erasing everything he’d previously understood and filling him with new knowledge.
Then he was just Mason, kissing and laughing with the beautiful Jasmine, touching her in the moonlight, the Goddess silently blessing them.
* * *
When Jazz opened her eyes some time later, her body limp and more relaxed than it had been in her life, she found Mason propped on his side next to her, staring down at her. His gray eyes were soft, the edge of him gone.
“Hey,” he said.
“I fell asleep,” Jazz mumbled, still halfway there.
“Yeah, you did.” Mason kissed her forehead with gentle lips. At some point, he’d rid himself of the condom, and his warm cock, as hard as ever, bumped her thigh.
“Sorry.”
“No.” Mason smoothed her hair from her face. “You’re beautiful when you sleep.”
Jazz put a self-conscious hand to her cheek. “No drooling?”
The bed shook with Mason’s laughter. “Not this time.”
He was breathtaking when he smiled. She’d seen him do it so rarely, but it lit his eyes, made him more devastatingly handsome than ever.
“You sure don’t have a lot of experience?” Jazz asked him. “Seemed like you knew what you were doing.”
Mason shrugged, which moved him in a fine way. “My brothers talk about it constantly. Even when I was a cub and had no clue what it meant, they went on and on about it.”
“I guess it rubbed off.” Jazz stroked her fingers over his arm. “I’m glad. You kind of blew me away, you know.”
Mason looked slightly surprised, but Jazz hadn’t exaggerated. It had never felt like that before.
“We should probably go downstairs and start searching again,” she said without enthusiasm. People were counting on her and her abilities. But lying here, being touched by Mason and his wonderful aura, was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
“Not yet.” Mason’s strong hand pushed her down. “I need this. Life. You.”
Jazz understood, and shared the feeling. The fear, rage, grief, worry that had hovered over Mason’s house had helped drive them into each other’s arms, both of them needing solace, comfort, hope.
She wished she could tell him not to bother with the condom again, but neither of them knew what the future would bring. Jazz said nothing as he opened the nightstand drawer. This time, though, she eased it onto him herself, and it did prove to be much more fun.
Jazz knew that by the way Mason had her down on the bed in two seconds, thrusting inside her as she let the foil wrapper flutter to the floor.
Then nothing mattered but Mason’s weight on her, the fullness of him inside her, and the wild light in his wolf-gray eyes.
* * *
Mason woke to a faint glow. He assumed it dawn until he looked at the window and found it still dark. His internal clock told him it was only about four in the morning, but something was shining and shining hard.
Jasmine slept on next to him, undisturbed. Mason looked down at her a moment, his entire body rejoicing in the nearness of her. The sensation of her around him, of being inside her, remained strong, the fierce longing being with her had ignited undimmed.
He would have woken her with kisses, slid inside her, and sought that tearing joy of being with her again except for whatever light was pulsating downstairs.
Mason carefully slid from the bed, not wanting to alarm Jasmine. Without bothering to dress—clothes would get in the way if he had to shift—he moved to the tiny hall, saw that the glow was coming from below, and moved stealthily down the staircase.
He didn’t scent an intruder, but that didn’t mean no one was there. There were various ways to fool a Shifter’s sense of smell, though those at least alerted a Shifter that there was something wrong. The house smelled empty except for himself and Jasmine. Felt empty.
Mason made it to the first floor and slipped into deeper shadow, avoiding the faint glimmer from the streetlight.
The vibrating glow was coming from the floor of the living room. Jasmine had flung most of her stones to the carpet in her anguish, her velvet cloth landing on top of them. Now the cloth itself seemed to be radiating light.
Mason moved on wary feet across the carpet then ever so cautiously, leaned down and lifted the velvet.
Every stone underneath it was awash with light. The heart of each—amethyst, obsidian, red jasper, amber, rose quartz, turquoise—blazed fire, bathing Mason’s skin in blue, pink, yellow, red, purple. The amber in particular was shining hard, brushing Mason’s outstretched hand with a golden hue.
One of the stones moved, or so Mason thought. He backed off, not trusting rocks that suddenly shone with intrinsic light.
No, they were moving. Little by little, as though tremors rocked them, the stones wriggled, sliding forward. But only the stones. The rest of the house was utterly still.
>
Mason growled. The wolf in him bristled as he watched the stones roll and vibrate toward the map that had also fallen to the floor.
He needed to wake Jasmine. Mason started to turn, but found his feet rooted to the carpet. He struggled, but damned if he could move. The light from the amber grew brighter and brighter, engulfing him, until Mason could no longer see anything else.
Only one thing to do. Mason surrendered to the wolf inside him and let himself change.
Chapter Ten
Jazz woke to the snarling that filled the house. She reached for Mason next to her to find him gone, the warm indentation in the mattress the only evidence he’d been there. Been there to touch her, bring her to life, awaken a passion that had been dormant in her for so long. He’d punched past her fears, her insecurities, and made love to her with a fire she’d never forget.
The growls escalated and Jazz came all the way awake. She snatched up her underwear and Mason’s T-shirt and jerked them on before she scurried from the little bedroom and down the stairs.
The staircase in this house emptied right into the living room. A large wolf stood in the middle of it, his gray and white fur bathed in a yellow glow. Crystals surrounded the wolf, forming a circle with him furious in its center.
Jazz watched, openmouthed, as the remainder of her stones gathered in a corner of the map, jostling each other madly as though trying to rest on the same point.
Mason kept growling. The rumbling of it filled the room and shook her bones.
Jazz made herself break out of her standstill and run to the map. She didn’t dare snap on a lamp or even light a candle. Magic was fragile, and any disturbance could negate the process.
She didn’t need light anyway. Her stones were beaming so intensely that they threw sharp, colorful shadows over the room. The stones had gathered on the map of Alaska, trembling and struggling to remain on a dot they covered in their enthusiasm.
Wild Things Page 10