by Renee Rose
My eyes fly open and I heave in a breath like I’ve been underwater.
“Fucking fates, Kit, what was that?”
“I had a dream,” I whimper, and flinch as he cuts on the light. “A bad one.”
“It’d have to be bad. You were thrashing and crying out.” He cups my chin, examines my face. “Here.” He reaches over and grabs the glass of water by the bedside table and hands it to me. “You wanna tell me what it’s about?”
“No,” I say honestly. I don’t want to relive it. I don’t want to talk about that night. I don’t want to remember it. Ever.
He waits, expectant. I’m grateful for the reprieve, a chance to get my heartbeat back to normal.
I open my mouth. I could tell him. I’ve already spilled so much. But this would be the final betrayal. Augustine took me to the one-eyed vampire and they—
No. I can’t.
Grizz frowns at me, his forehead puckered as if he’s trying to read my thoughts. I lick my lips. He could order me to tell him.
But he doesn’t. “Okay, Kit,” he says, and switches the light back off. He’s given me a choice.
“Come here.” He tugs me down next to him.
I shrink away from his beat up chest. “No. I’ll hurt you.”
His chuckle fills my ears, a dark, velvety sound. “You could never hurt me. You’re too little.”
“I am not that small,” I protest, but he just tugs me down.
“You are small,” he settles me against him. “But perfect.” His scarred lips caress my ear.
“I don’t know if I can go back to sleep,” I inform him, a bit breathlessly.
A pause. “You want me to help?”
Another choice. I revel in it. “Yes,” I decide. Even if it’s just an order, I want it. I chose.
But he doesn’t give me an order. Instead, he shifts me in his arms so I’m lying fully against him, my hips cradled in his. My head doesn’t quite reach his chin, but he must bow his head because his breath stirs my hair.
“Now, what should I do to help you sleep?” His hand begins to drift upwards, creeping up my leg, taking the big shirt with it.
“Whatever you want,” I whisper. Because it’s true. My body lies against him, soft and compliant. My mind might still fight it, but he owns my body. My fox is ready for him to stake his claim.
“What do you want, little fox?” I love the deep rumble of his voice against my ear.
I fold one leg up, knee toward the ceiling to give him access.
He growls his approval and shoves down the covers. Heat flares everywhere—across my skin, between my legs. It’s a different kind of heat than I’m used to. Submission always turns me on, but this is like arousal times twelve. My pussy turns molten, heart rate ramping. I’m itchy and feverish and he hasn’t even touched me intimately yet. Knowing he’s going to claim me—possibly roughly—thrills not just the submissive in me but also my fox. That’s what’s different. What makes it feel so right.
He crawls down and grips the thigh I have lifted. “You inviting me down here, Kit?”
I jerk at the first flick of his tongue. Fates, it’s like a bolt of lightning shooting straight through my clit and out to every nerve ending in my body. My nipples turn hard as diamonds, nails sink into his empty pillow beside me.
He traces the inside of my labia, circles my clit. I squirm, pushing my knee against his head involuntarily. “Uh uh, Kit. You stay open for me while I lick this sweet pussy of yours.”
I shiver, my pussy contracting at the order. No one’s ever licked me there. Augustine tortured my clit plenty of times, sure. He spanked it, pinched it, put clips on it. But he never put his own mouth on me. I’ve never felt the velvety smoothness of a tongue on my most sensitive bits before.
I don’t mean to—it’s not slave-like at all—but I reach down and grip his hair, tugging him into me again.
He chuckles. “That’s right, little fox. Take your pleasure.”
Take my pleasure.
What a wicked, terrible thought. But he told me to. It was an order, right?
I surrender to the sensations—of his tongue, his deep, dominant growls, the commanding grip of his huge hand on my thigh. I lift my core to his mouth, wriggle and undulate.
He flips me to my back and pushes my other knee back, too, spreading me wide. I cry out when he licks me from anus to clit. He returns to my opening, penetrating me with his tongue. It’s not enough, and I don’t mean to demand, but I do—fates help me, I do. I grip his head and push his mouth against me, lift my pussy. He releases one of my thighs and shoves two fingers into me, rough.
I yip with pleasure, my eyes rolling back in my head. “Grizz!” I cry out, the panic that comes before an orgasm flooding me.
“That’s right, Kit. Who makes you scream?”
My mind can barely follow the question, I’m so close to coming. “Um...you do!” I scream as he repeatedly hits my G-spot with his huge fingers. “Grizz does! Oh please, Grizz.”
“You don’t have to beg, just take it,” he growls.
I come like an explosion. A bursting open. A simultaneous emptying and filling. My body rages beneath his skilled fingers and tongue, legs thrashing, pelvis jerking. My internal muscles squeeze and release, quake. He stops pumping, instead stroking my G-spot with his fingers as he sucks and licks my clit.
The earthquake passes and I whimper, falling limp. My knees splay open, body boneless.
Grizz lifts his head and licks my juices off his lips. “You taste like honey.”
A shocked laugh falls from my lips and I reach for him, wind my arms around his neck. “Says the bear.”
He nips my neck. “Bears love honey.”
I attempt to push him to his back so I can return the favor, but it’s an impossible feat when he’s on top of me, pinning me to my back. I reach for his cock between our bodies. It’s huge and thick and hard for me. I give it a squeeze, but his growl has censure in it.
I instantly let go, eyes wide.
“Shh.” He strokes my cheek. “I’m helping you sleep.”
“May I please suck your cock?” I almost said, master’s cock, as I’d been trained, but caught myself in time.
Still, Grizz narrows his eyes. “No,” he growls and settles beside me, pulling me in to spoon against him. His body is huge and warm and completely wraps my smaller one. My fox sighs in contentment. After a moment of silence in which I worry about what I did wrong, he murmurs against my ear. “Sleep, little fox. You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. That’s a promise.”
Now I sigh, too.
He strokes my arm. “Everything’s going to be all right. You’re always safe with me, Kit.”
Happiness—a dangerous feeling—descends over me and I sink into it. Let the contentment of my orgasm and the safety of Grizz’s arms and words lull me into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 8
Jordy
“Mornin’, Kit.” Grizz’s gravelly voice rumbles through me.
I press back into the warm wall of his giant body and his purring growl sends pleasant vibrations through me. I automatically arch my back, grinding my bottom into the taut frame of his hips. His growl deepens with frustration. Large hands force my legs apart. I hold my breath as his right hand begins to explore.
Outside the room, a harsh ringing sound breaks the silence. I jerk in Grizz’s arms and his hold tightens.
“It’s okay. Just the telephone.”
“You should get it,” I whisper as the phone keeps ringing.
He answers with a growl.
A beep and the answering machine picks up.
“Rise and shine, it’s a beautiful day,” an Irish brogue trills.
Grizz growls as Declan continues leaving a message. “I got news for ya, so call me maybe.”
“Did you tell him—” another voice breaks into the message.
“Right, right, I’ll tell him,” Declan interrupts. “Jay-sus, calm your bits.”
“I’m just sayin’—”
the second voice says and the two start arguing until the machine beeps the end of time to leave the message.
A second later the phone starts ringing again.
“Oh for Fate’s sake—” Grizz groans.
The phone rings until it beeps again and a new voice leaves a message. “This is Parker. We’re at the burger joint. Stay away from the Fight Club.”
“Give me the phone,” Declan breaks in.
“No. I told him—” the two start arguing again and the phone cuts out.
Grizz heaves an aggrieved sigh while I tuck my face into Grizz’s chest and giggle.
“Guess we gotta go meet with those idiots,” Grizz huffs into my ear.
“You know, you’re the only person in the world still with a landline,” I say to him.
“I’m old school.”
“Or just old.” I wrinkle my nose at him.
In the next moment I find myself over his lap.
“I’ll show you old school.” He flips up the shirt and swats my bare bottom.
“No!” I kick, even though he barely spanked me. “I didn’t mean it! I take it back!”
“Sure you do, now that you’ve earned a punishment,” he says, and I clench my legs together, a thrill running down my spine. He’s joking, but Grizz doling out playful punishment is enough to make me wet.
A second later, his hand slides between my legs and he feels my aroused state for himself.
“Fates,” he mutters.
I relax, surrendering happily as he explores my sopping folds. He knows just how to touch me—light but firm. “You like having your ass smacked, don’t you, Kit?”
“Yes,” I admit.
“Why?”
“Don’t ask why. There is no why. I’ve tried to understand this thing about myself my entire life. Why punishment turns me on. Why I like to be dominated. There’s no answer for it. I was just born this way. That’s the one good thing that came out of my enslavement to Augustine. I discovered a whole world of sexual satisfaction. And I also discovered I’m not alone in my desires. There are dozens of other sweetbloods even more into pain than I am who play at Toxic.”
“You want more?” his voice is gruff and I hear concern in it, like he’s unsure about even asking the question.
“Yes, please,” I answer, as sweetly as I know how.
His huge palm claps down on my buttocks, spanking one side then the other a couple times. He tests my wetness again. I moan with pleasure. He clears his throat. “How hard?”
“Harder, please.”
“You want me to hurt you?”
“Yes,” I admit. I like the sensation of pain. The hot tingle that comes after it’s been delivered. The build up to sex I require before I can find the satisfaction of release.
My shifter ears pick up the sound of his heart beating faster than normal. Is he excited? Or genuinely nervous about hurting me?
He tugs my wrists behind my back and pins them there with one hand. “Okay, little fox. You’re going to get a spanking. And then you’re going to show me your gratitude.”
I smile into the covers because he’s already such a natural dominant. He starts spanking me hard and fast and I writhe over his lap. It’s a perfect spanking. His hand is huge like a paddle and he spanks with enough force to make it really burn. I count the slaps in my head to keep my mind busy, keep myself from squirming right off his lap from the intensity. He delivers thirty, then stops and strokes his calloused palm over my twitching ass.
“That good?” His voice is rough.
“Yes, Mas—Grizz.” I remember in time not to call him Master.
He delivers another four smacks, concentrating on the backs of my thighs where it stings more. Yep, he’s a total natural. “Now, what are we going to do about this?” he muses, sliding his fingers between my legs. I part my thighs and tilt my ass up, offering myself to him.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, screwing two fingers into me.
I cry out with pleasure. He pumps them, his thumb burrowing between my asscheeks to rest over my anus. The moment he applies pressure there, I start to hump his lap wildly. It’s embarrassing how little stimuli I require from this male to reach climax but I can’t help it. My body’s been primed for him since the moment I heard his deep growl.
“Fuck, Kit,” he growls pumping his fingers in and out of me. I only last another thirty seconds and then I come all over his fingers, my walls tightening and releasing, my juices leaking onto my inner thighs.
“Well.” He sounds almost shaken. “I still don’t get it, but…”
I twist and look over my shoulder to seek his face. “But?”
“I sure as fates liked my end of it.”
A smile tugs my cheeks so wide it almost hurts. “But I haven’t even shown my appreciation yet.” I crawl off his lap and rearrange my position to suck him off, but he groans and shakes his head.
“Gonna have to take a raincheck. Gotta big day today. Up and at ‘em.” And he rises, his big form taking all warmth from the bed.
I whimper but scramble to follow.
He disappears into the shower and I make myself ready and race to start breakfast. I only get as far as making the coffee before he tromps into the kitchen. I serve him coffee as he starts frying up some meat. I’m wearing a dress today, the one he picked out. It flutters around my knees and I prance around the kitchen, feeling pretty as I set the table.
As soon as Grizz drains his coffee, I’m at his elbow with the pot to fill his cup with a smile. I go to grab plates and suddenly Grizz is at my back, pressing me to the cabinets. His big arms come around me and he leans on the counter caging me in.
“You don’t have to serve me,” he mutters in my ear.
“I like to,” I whisper back.
He grunts and the back of my neck prickles. I’m not sure if he’s pleased or upset, so I wriggle around to face him. His eyes are bright and he moves his lower half against me. His hardness brushes against my stomach. He’s not mad. Just frustrated. Well, it’s his own fault.
“I can serve you,” I say. “As much as you like.” I’m not bold enough to take hold of his erection, but I lean into him.
“Got lots to do this morning,” he says.
“So you said.”
“Don’t have time to take you back into the bedroom and deal with you.”
“It doesn’t have to take a lot of time,” I offer.
“I think it does. I’d need at least a day. Maybe two.”
I smile at him and he steps away, adjusting his jeans.
“Stop being cute,” he orders with a grin. I duck my face.
His hand drops to my hip, caressing me through the thin floral fabric. “This the dress I picked out?”
“Yep. You like?” I ask, suddenly bold. I twirl. The skirt swirls out. Oops, too far. He definitely got a glimpse underneath. At least I’m wearing panties.
His eyes are bright. “Careful. Don’t do that around anyone but me.”
I nod.
“Go on, set the table,” he orders gently, patting my hip.
I obey, biting back my smile.
After breakfast, he listens to all the messages again, and deletes them. His face is serious, all business.
“Ready to roll out?”
I nod and hold up a plastic bag. “I packed water bottles. There are no snacks left—I think the Stooges ate them.”
“Stooges?” Grizz raises an eyebrow.
“The three shifters…” I drop my eyes. I’ve insulted his friends.
“Actually, that’s a good name for them,” Grizz grunts. “Shifter Stooges. There’s three of them.”
“I won’t call them that to their face,” I say anxiously.
“I will. They’ll probably think it’s funny.” Grizz grabs the motorcycle helmet and motions to me. “Grab your coloring stuff. I’ve got errands to run, and you might get bored.”
I want to protest that I won’t get bored with him, but grab my stuff instead.
As the bike zooms dow
n the mountain, I lean with Grizz into each turn. Three days since he stole me from Augustine, and it feels so natural to be with him. The time with my master seems further and further away. But Grizz hasn’t told me what he plans to do with me. I can’t get too comfortable with him.
Sure enough, we’re sitting at a light when Grizz turns to me.
“Where’s that secret club?”
I lick my lips, glancing at the light. It’s still red, but could change at any second.
“Tell me quick, Kit,” he orders.
I blurt the street name. “I’m not sure of the exact address, but there was a restaurant nearby with a blue sign.” I describe the area.
He grunts and faces forward just before the light turns again.
I let out a sigh and hug his back as the motorcycle rolls through the intersection. Grizz is my master’s enemy. I can’t forget that. Even if he makes me feel good.
We pull into the parking lot of the burger place we hit up yesterday afternoon. The white Camaro is waiting.
I hop off the bike, pushing down my dress as Grizz dismounts and pulls my things out of the saddlebag.
“Wait here,” Grizz says, handing me the coloring book and pencils. I hug them to my chest as he advances on the three Stooges. One of them is wearing an old fashioned pageboy hat, the type men wear in the old black and white movies I used to watch during the day, when Augustine let me. The three shifters all lean out of the car, eager to tell Grizz something.
I fidget with my skirt and rock from foot to foot until Grizz turns and waves me over.
He meets me halfway, just as the breeze catches the hem of my dress and flips it up around my thighs. I smooth it down and make a note to wear bike shorts underneath it next time. Although the look on Grizz’s face as his eyes roam over me makes my almost-Marilyn Monroe moment worth it.
I halt in front of him. He puts a hand on my back, inching me closer and bending so his face arrives at my level.
“You look good in your dress, Kit.” His eyes are bright.
“Thanks,” I whisper. My nipples bead against the floral fabric; I’m not wearing a bra so it should be obvious his effect on me. A slow smile stretches his scarred lips. I wait for him to do more but he steps away.