by Audrey Storm
But then Fernando grabbed her arms and forced her to face him. His lips were curled downward, his eyes going black. “Just tell me! Stop using me!”
Andrea didn’t blink—didn’t breathe—processing everything and nothing. The strange thing was, even though Fernando’s strength and demonic eyes terrified her, he had sounded like he was pleading with her. Though panic had iced her blood and made her certain of her own doom, pity also managed to bloom inside her heart.
“Fernando,” she choked out.
He shook her, tears in his eyes. “Tell me!”
She gaped at him as he huffed and puffed. Her pity morphed into guilt, then into self-loathing, and it was acidic in her veins—in her torso.
Claws poked her flesh through her clothes, and another wave of panic crashed down on her. Her heart pounded too hard, too fast, her mind going blank yet also screaming at her to escape.
“Andrea!”
“Fine!” she shrieked, shaking violently and crying. “Fine! You were right about everything. I just wanted to write the story of a lifetime. There is a whole other species out there living beside us and no one knows about it! I wanted to expose the truth and show people how the world really is!”
A breath shuddered out of her, a conflicting sense of relief and dread making her dizzy. She was half-expecting to be killed now, yet she couldn’t help but believe herself deserving of a fate.
She had slept with people to get information out of them. She had lied and used people, and now she couldn’t even say it was for a good cause. Now, it had all gone to waste.
Andrea swallowed thickly, tears dripping from her jaw and chin. When nothing happened for a moment, she shut her eyes tight and snarled, “Whatever you are going to do, just do it and get it over with.”
“I don’t need to do anything,” Fernando said, sounding much calmer now. “I know all that I need to know, though I did suspect this all along. I knew this is who you really were.”
She reeled back. Seeing Fernando’s wet face expressing indifference that somehow seemed smug—rage overwhelmed her senses.
“You sick bastard!” She grabbed his shirt, her nails clawing into it as she sneered at him. “You are so obsessed with hiding that you manipulate and lie and hurt people just so that you feel okay! It doesn’t matter how anyone else thinks or feels, so long as you are fine! Hold up in your mansions—acting as if you’re this world’s greatest victims—letting people get murdered by your own kind and not doing a damn thing about it?! Manipulating people like Hank and Reed—your friends—to help you! You may have been right about me, but don’t you act like you are any different than me!”
She felt his claws again, his face twitching as too many emotions overcame it. She could feel the heat radiate off of him—from his flesh, from his eyes. Andrea refused to be afraid though—not now, not when she had nothing left to lose but her measly life. She raised her head a little higher and kept eye contact with him.
She did not expect him to kiss her.
As quickly as Fernando had moved toward her, his kiss was hesitant—his lips barely brushing against hers and then hesitantly pressing closer to them.
An excited thrill shot through her. His gentleness mixed with her searing rage created a static-esque feel of pleasure inside of her. It was so startling—so good—so new—she kissed him back with fervor.
His grip on her softened, his claws disappearing, and he rubbed the stinging ache away from her arms. The light yet erratic massage eased her tension while created a hotter tension, and she moaned loudly.
He pulled away a little, and she shamelessly followed him—leaned toward him with her mouth open.
“Get out,” Fernando growled.
Andrea jumped, opening her eyes. She was about to shout at him again when she noticed he wasn’t looking at her but at his guards.
“Now,” Fernando told them.
The guards nodded dutifully—like watching their boss make-out with a potential threat happened everyday—and then walked out of the room.
When the door clicked shut, Fernando’s mouth was on hers again. She rubbed herself against him and nipped his lower lip whenever she had the chance. He moaned and growled in response. A delighted smile graced her lips on its accord, and she couldn’t hold it back even if she tried.
Mindlessly, she pawed at his chest and his big arms. She hungered to feel him—to see him fall apart before her, to see him exposed.
Fernando ran his hands down her arms until his hands clutched hers. He ran his thumbs over them while breaking the kiss. His lips pressed against her cheek, and then her jaw, he helped her unbutton his shirt. It was an awkward process—their fingers pressed together so tightly that it hurt—but as they got lower and lower on his shirt, she trembled harder with growing need.
He rubbed his face against hers, his teeth occasionally grazing her. She could also feel him smile every once in a while, but each time this happened, he bowed his head so that his forehead was pressed against her jaw.
Soon, he was shouldering off his shirt and jacket, both of them falling to the floor. Their faces were still so close together that she couldn’t see his torso, but she was quick to press her hands against his abs. He was so warm, so soft. She ran her fingers upward, toward his nipples, and she reveled in the way he shivered. When she pressed her palms against his pecks, he reached for her jacket and tugged at it.
With her hands still touching some part of his flesh—his chest, his shoulders—she allowed Fernando to awkwardly undress her. She bowed her head and kissed his neck as he worked. Eventually, she felt her own clothing slide off of her and fall to the ground.
Fernando kissed her, his tongue prodding against her lips until she parted them again. As he tasted her, he groped her breasts. His fingers curled around the edge of her bra before trailing up its straps.
She panted against his mouth, a gentle kind of heat making her awareness fuzzy. A little to eagerly, she pulled down her straps—and then her bra—until it was wrapped around her stomach.
Andrea arched her chest toward him, her eyes entranced by the hunger in his expression as he stared at her breasts. He grabbed them again, his fingers sliding against her nipples and hardening them. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back a little.
He released her breasts and grabbed her rear, and she gasped. Then he lifted her up and hurriedly lowered her to the nearest bed, her body all but crashing onto the mattress. When his lips wrapped around her left nipple, her body bucked on its own accord. Pleasure shot through her—tantalizing her—and she released a whiny moan of desperation.
“Fernando,” she breathed, gasping when his tongue drew a circle over her nipple. “God, Fernando, please. So wet now…” She spread her legs wide for him. When he kept sucking at her nipple—the wet, smacking sound become sloppier and making her wetter—she bounced herself, her waist pushing against his for a brief moment.
Fernando moaned, the hum of the sound traveling down her breast. He nipped the bottom of her breast. “So eager,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she panted. She grabbed the waistline of her pants and panties and started pulling them down. “Yes, so eager for you.”
He huffed at that. It was a gentle sound, but there was something about it that left an unpleasant taste on Andrea’s tongue. But before she could question him, he was sliding his fingers down her stomach, over her mound, and into her moist folds. Immediately, she spread her legs wider and rubbed herself against him.
“Yes, yes,” she said, the heat rising inside of her at a rapid rate. “God, yes, more. More, please, Fernando.”
Having barely moved inside of her, he took out his fingers. She cried out in frustration.
“So eager,” he repeated, huskier this time. He grabbed his own pants—her shaking hands grabbing them, too—and they pulled them and his underwear down to his knees. Fernando was clearly about to pull them farther down, but she grabbed his hard, pulsating cock. He inhaled sharply, shuddering.
“
So eager,” she said teasingly. She began pumping him, her nails scratching his tender flesh every so often. “Are you ready to have me yet?” She squeezed him, and she grinned when he gasped. “Or do you want to keeping playing these games?”
Grunting, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand off of him. Then he positioned his member over her throbbing core before shoving himself inside of her.
She jolted, swearing. Mindlessly, she moved against him—creating more friction between them as he pumped himself in out and of her. Their rhythm was uneven, his hips arching at various angles over and over again. Her entire body trembled, pleasure growing larger and larger inside her loins.
She was crying out his name by the time she came, his hot seed spurting inside of her. They both kept moving—kept rubbing against each other—making the most of the explosion of ecstasy that overtook their senses. She spluttered out his name and several compliments while he grunted things in Spanish.
By the time Andrea’s aftershocks had become softer in nature, Fernando had collapsed on top of her. He breathed heavily against her neck, his flesh covered in a thin layer of sweat.
Knowing that this good feeling would soon be swallowed by self-loathing and doubt, Andrea closed her eyes and tried to will herself to fall asleep. She cringed when Fernando slowly pulled his member out of her, but when he remained on top of her, she calmed a bit. He wasn’t saying or doing anything cruel toward her, and his body surrounding hers…it made her feel safe.
She lost consciousness in a matter of moments.
Chapter 5
A massive warmth enveloped half of Andrea, and there was a weight to it—crushing her a little. Confused by this sensation, she slowly opened her eyes. It took her a moment to remember last night—to remember failing her job. The memories stabbed into her confidence, wilting along with any kind of self-appreciation she had for herself. Shifting with discomfort, the weight on top of her right half became even more noticeable to her, and she turned toward it.
A large sphere of dark fur took up over half the space of the bed, its body heavily leaning against hers to the point where it was partially on top of it.
Andrea screamed, scrambling from beneath the beast and falling to the floor.
The body of fur stiffened as a roundish head popped up.
By now, Andrea knew she should have known better, but she couldn’t control the instinctive fear that burst in her blood. Pressing herself against the wall, she gawked at the bear as he regarded her with wide eyes. A whimper escaped her and she shook harder.
The bear, its face a light tan and its snout round, reeled back. As it also fell out of bed, its body shrunk and its fur receded. Within seconds, Fernando was standing there, panting and leaning over the bed.
“Sorry,” he choked out, staring at the covers. “I didn’t mean to…sometimes that happens when I sleep.”
Andrea relaxed, a breath whooshing out of her. “Right. Sorry, too. I just…forgot about…you know.” Blushing, she shook her head and got back into bed. Remembering her nudity, her blush deepened, and she quickly covered herself with the comforter. Wanting to distract herself and Fernando from this embarrassing moment, she asked, “What time is it?”
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand right beside her. “It’s 6:30.”
She nodded. “Early.”
He blinked at her, his expression tensed. As much as he seemed to love his privacy, he wasn’t the least bit modest as he stood there in all his glory. Though it did look like he had forgotten about his lack of clothing, his attention focused solely on her.
With a start, Andrea realized that he still didn’t trust her. And why would he? She was all the awful things he had accused her of being, and there was nothing to show for it now. She knew she couldn’t turn in what little evidence she had of these bear-shifters to Ms. Lee; if nothing else, it would bring attention to the Billionaire Trio’s true nature, and she just…it just didn’t feel right anymore.
Fatigue grabbing her and pulling her down, she lowered her head and sighed. She was too tired for tears—too tired to feel anything but resigned. “Fernando, I…I am sorry about everything. I…I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll get dressed and I’ll leave.” Keeping the comforter over her body, she stood up and searched the floor for her clothes. “I mean, I need some money for airfa—”
Fernando had circled around the bed and now faced her, his eyes unreadable as he stared into hers.
Anxiety jittered through her, and she tightened her grip on the blanket. Uncertain of what was happening—what he was feeling or thinking—she held her breath and tried to think of an escape plan.
He took one tentative step after another toward her. When he was mere inches in front of her, his eyelids lowered.
Andrea’s eyebrows rose. Hesitantly—fearing she was reading him wrong—she tilted her head upward and leaned toward him.
He leaned forward in return, pressing his lips against hers. Immediately, they molded together, the comforter falling between them.
Guilt and want guiding her, Andrea ran one hand down his torso before she lightly gripped his cock. She squeezed it, ran her thumb over it—every little motion she made was gentle and with the purpose to make him feel good. A part of her hoped it could make up for her past mistakes while another part just wanted to feel him again.
In return, Fernando also ran his hand down her stomach before pressing his fingers against her soft clit. Slowly yet erratically, he rubbed random patterns into it, moistening it.
Despite the previous night’s exerting activities, Andrea soon felt her clit harden and throb beneath Fernando’s touch. She jutted against his fingers, enchanting warmth flushing throughout her flesh. All the while, her grip on Fernando’s cock tightened. She still managed to slide her hand up and down the hardening length, the friction rough.
It was a matter of minutes until she came, a soft exhale exiting her lips as pleasure took hold of her.
Fernando came a moment later. His seed splattered over her stomach, already hot from her own orgasm coursing through her.
Panting, she wobbled on her feet and leaned against him. As in afterthought, she released his member. Then he, slowly, slid his fingers over her one last time before fully retracting his hand.
“Maybe,” Fernando croaked, not quite looking at her. He swallowed, his eyes watering. “If the alchemist can’t break the curse, then maybe we should be…maybe our species should no longer be so secretive.”
Andrea’s eyes widened. Disbelieving—confused as hell—she spluttered out, “What?”
“I don’t like that idea,” he said, growling a little. He tensed and shivered. “I really don’t like it, but what you said last night held too much truth in it. I just…I don’t know. I don’t like it, but maybe it needs to happen at some point—and maybe we should do it sooner than later.” Running his hands through his hair, he backed away and walked to the bathroom. He looked sick with doubt. “I’m going to take a shower. We should leave in a couple of hours.”
Andrea blinked owlishly at him until he closed the bathroom door behind him.
Chapter 6
Hours later, they were trekking through a swamp. The guards were armed with bigger guns and even swords. When she asked about the change of weapons, one of them merely said “gators.” It really didn’t explain anything, but she decided it was best not to push it.
Keeping close to Fernando, her hand snapped to his arm when her foot sunk down into a small mud hole. Gasping and cringing, she glared at the swampy floor. The scents in the air where all pungently horrid, and the thickness of the trees, the vines, and the air itself was making her feel claustrophobic—like she was getting buried beneath rotting wood and green slime.
“Why did we even take a shower?” she said, tugging uselessly at her leg.
She jumped when Fernando encircled his arms around. Though his grip on her was initially gentle, he quickly tightened it as he yanked her out of the mud. Together, they stumbled to the side an
d tripped over a tree root.
“We’re almost there,” he said, squeezing her arms before releasing her. “Be patient.”
Huffing, she nodded. “So long as I don’t drown in mud, I’m sure I can manage that.”
All to serious, Fernando nodded at her in return. Then he and the guards continued onward, so she followed them.
She really shouldn’t have come along with them, but after her first offer to leave Fernando and the Trio be, Fernando had never brought it up again. And then we went on acting as if her presence with them while they traveled to the alchemist’s home was no longer a nuisance. Rather than push her luck any further with him, she had decided long ago to just keep quiet and tag along. She didn’t truly want to leave—didn’t want to go back home and face Ms. Lee. Plus, this entire situation was still incredible, and damn her, she was curious.
Fernando stopped after several minutes, his nose high in the air as he inhaled deeply. After a moment of contemplation, he turned left and walked in that direction.
The guards and Andrea, once again, followed him.
Eventually, they came across a shack that was built into several trees that were all slanted toward one another. Beneath the shack was a large pool of murky water, lily pads and other plants floating on top of it.
Slowing his pace, Fernando sniffed several times. “He’s in there.”
Andrea cocked an eyebrow. “You can smell the alchemist?”
“I can smell everything.”
Her nose wrinkled, her eyes glancing around the swamp. “That’s unfortunate.”
He hummed in agreement. Quickening his pace again, he walked around the slanted trees—as did Andrea and the others—until they all came across a rope ladder that led into the shack.
Fernando turned and pointed at one of his guards. “Rico, you go first. I’ll follow. Then Manny follows me, and then the order after that doesn’t matter.”
The guard—Rico—nodded and hurried over to the ladder before climbing it.