by Briar, Robin
It means he really didn’t see the paintings beforehand. He must have been too distracted by seeing me passed out on the floor. My well-being was his sole concern. I kiss him in front of Candice for that. He doesn’t have to know why, but it makes him smile.
The happy dog expression that I love returns to his face. I want him to know that there’s nothing we can’t work out. He seems to be figuring that out.
Mason starts making an early lunch for everybody so Candice and I can keep talking. He brings a parade of snacks to us beforehand. I definitely appreciate it. My belly is the size of a coffee bean, even with the huckleberries he fed me by the river.
Candice and I keep the conversation safe, knowing full well that he can overhear every word. She does mouth a few words, but her lips are easy to read. So well behaved comes across very clearly.
Any tension that existed between Candice and Mason is gone. He’s a model boyfriend in her presence, doting on me every chance he gets, but without being smothering. The omelette he serves is excellent. Not having a kitchen table at the moment, we eat at the coffee table.
“Jessica has been really secretive about you, Mason,” Candice says, “no doubt keeping you all to herself. I like what I see so far, but what can you tell me about yourself?”
Candice doesn’t mean to, but she already sounds like a parent, especially the way she uses my full name. I get why she’s doing it, but it might look weird to Mason, especially considering that she doesn’t look much older than me.
I widen my eyes at Candice. Maybe she’ll get the hint that she’s coming on strong, but I doubt it. She is the Mother of our coven, after all.
“Oh, don’t look surprised,” she snaps at me lightheartedly. “You knew I was going to interrogate him sooner or later.”
Mason looks back and forth between us. “I completely understand. You want to know if I’m good for your friend. I don’t blame you. I’m protective of the people I love too. What would you like to know?”
“Well, for starters, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m chained to the family business. My parents are a big deal in very small circles, but otherwise nobody’s heard of them. Suffice it to say they’re famous art appraisers. My sister and I manage their business affairs. Shipping and receiving, mostly. Sylvia works from home with her daughter and I travel with the art. Make sure everything goes smoothly. Basically, she’s the sedentary one and I’m the nomad. We’re supposed to trade off, but I’ve been doing the legwork for years. That is, until recently.”
Okay, now I feel like a fool, but how did I not know that? I don’t let on in front of Candice, but there’s no hiding the truth from myself. Mason and I have been getting to know each other in every intimate way, but skipped over some very basic conversations. I blame myself.
“Does your sister live nearby?” Candice asks.
“She does. Here in town. Maybe you’ve met her? Jess runs her studio. That’s how we met, actually. I was picking up my niece for Sylvia and Jess was there.”
“Yes, I met your sister once. Striking woman with an intense gaze. Are you close?”
Candice means to find out how honest Mason is being. She’ll gauge whether he’s telling the truth based on how he replies to questions to which she already knows the answers. I just told her everything I know about him, after all.
“We are. She’s actually my twin,” Mason says.
“I can see the resemblance, now that you mention it. You have the same color eyes.”
“We traveled all over Europe together with our parents,” Mason says, “left to our own devices more often than not.”
“Which parts of Europe? I’m originally from Norway myself.”
“Really?” Mason says, stalling.
I place a hand on his knee to steady him. The pendant keeps him calm, but Norway is close to his werewolf origin story. “Which part?” he asks.
“Bergen, on the western coast.”
“I never actually got that far.”
“It’s worth the trip. Very beautiful,” Candice says, choosing that moment to take a drink. She’s toying with him. Watching his expression for tells. Any change in his demeanor. She’s closing in on his past, specifically the witch who sold him his pendant.
“Candice, Mason was kind enough to make us food,” I interrupt. “Can you help me wash the dishes?”
She smiles at me, sensing my protectiveness. I don’t mind if she gets to know him. In fact, I want her to like Mason, but without treating him like a threat. He stood down earlier. Now it’s her turn, even if Mason doesn’t suspect what’s going on.
“Actually, I may have to leave those with you. I was going to stick around if you needed my help. Now that I know you’re in good hands, I should really be going. I have a flight to catch. The sooner I get back to the city, the better.”
“I didn’t see a car parked outside,” Mason says. “Did you take a commuter train?”
“The train. Yes,” Candice says, lying.
I know exactly how Candice got here, and it didn’t involve a train. She must have stored her broom nearby. Some traditions never change.
“Are you sure?” I ask Candice. “There’s still so much to talk about. Not to mention everything I’ve missed back in the city.”
“This visit wasn’t about me, Jessica. I’m just glad you’re feeling better. I have a pretty good idea what you’ve been up to lately,” she says, casting a salacious grin at Mason. “Tell you what: I’ll swing by again when I return from my trip. I shouldn’t be away long. We can catch up then. Sound good?”
Candice is up to something, and this is her way of telling me in front of Mason. There’s nothing I can do it about it now.
“Well, thank you for caring enough to check in on me,” I tell her honestly.
“Of course, dear. That’s what very good friends are for,” she says, mirroring my introduction earlier. Candice really needs to work on not sounding more like her visible age, especially in front of people who don’t know how old we really are.
“Can we drive you to the train station at least?” Mason asks.
“No need. I don’t mind walking, especially in this country air.”
Candice leans in and gives me a hug. It feels like she’s actually pouring her strength into me, filling me up like a chalice. She always gives the best hugs, but this time she also whispers in my ear.
“I’ll leave you two to mingle. That would help enormously.”
Message received. It’s one thing to be sorry about a mistake, but it’s quite another to make amends. Fortunately for me, this is one mistake I don’t mind fixing.
Mason and I see Candice off, and watch her walk away from my apartment window.
“I like your friend,” he says.
I turn toward Mason and wrap my arms around his muscular neck.
“You like that she looks out for me,” I say, dangling my weight off him. “You didn’t like her at first.”
“That’s because I didn’t know her. Now I do, at least a little. She’s almost like a mother to you. How long have you been friends?”
“Many, many years,” I tell him without lying.
“That makes me think she knows where the bodies are buried.”
“Ha! No, that would be my other girlfriend, Saffron,” I say.
“Got it. Saffron helps you when you’re already in trouble. Candice keeps you out of trouble in the first place, like cleaning up splintered doors.”
“Well, she’s nothing if not resourceful,” I say, deflecting.
“I still don’t know how she did that. It’s not like the hardware store was open earlier.”
“If you’re really interested in knowing how she did it, we can talk about it all day long, going over every logical possibility one by one…” I close my eyes and slowly kiss Mason, drawing one of his lips back with my own. “Or we could pass the time some other way. Maybe break some more furniture?”
“Shouldn’t we be taking it easy on you?” he asks
with a hint of excitement.
“I’m feeling surprisingly energized all of a sudden.”
I lift the bolo off his neck and place it around mine again. Mason doesn’t resist.
“Jess, you’re playing with fire,” he says with a growing smile.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m pretty fire resistant. Now stop making excuses or you’ll hurt my feelings. Do you want me or not?”
I bite my lower lip. Then I look up at Mason with petulant eyes.
“I’m likely to lose control of myself again,” he says.
“Good.”
Mason lets his hands drift to my waist and closes his eyes. A vain effort to gather his wits about him. There’s no point. He hoists me into the air with both arms, and I’m flying again, hurled backward with his strength.
I land softly on my bed, and Mason is there a moment later, hovering over me, face at my neck. The guttural growl that I love ripples out of him. It vibrates against my throat. I close my eyes and turn my head away. Submitting to his will.
The intent of his lust is so strong, so immediate. Summoning his desire for me is effortless. I have never felt more wanted in all my life, and that’s saying something.
If I’m going to replenish the quicksilver pool, I need to open a conduit now and siphon all the lust I can. Even the foreplay lust. This is how to make amends for draining the reservoir.
I decide to try something out. Candice said I don’t need to say the spellcasting words when I feel the way I do about Mason. I can just manifest the spells into existence with my will.
I would normally say Custodi Libidinis about now to cast Preserve the Lust, but I don’t. Not this time. I imagine the effect instead.
The reservoir lashes out with a tendril and attaches itself to my body.
She’s right. I can do this. I can cast spells silently.
Mason reaches for my shirt, having no patience for buttons, and tears the garment off my body. That’s another piece of clothing he owes me. My breasts are exposed in an explosion of flesh.
He pauses at the pendant, sniffs the silver resting between my bosoms, but only for a moment. Mason drags his still-human fingers across my belly. I can feel them growing into claws as he does. They migrate to my waistline, grip the material, and tighten into fists.
Mason rips through the fabric to get at me, and finds me waiting for him. The only part of me that matters to his animalistic mind right now. The welcoming moisture that he can already smell. Zipper be damned.
I run my hands through the hair on his back. It’s already growing coarser, more fur than hair at this point. Mason looks up at me with his brown eyes. They haven’t changed yet, even though the rest of his body is transforming.
He bares his teeth as he snarls. Not ferocious behavior, but possessive. Somewhere in there, I can only hope Mason is holding on to his humanity.
He keeps his head between my legs as the rest of his body transforms. I watch as his shirt pulls taut, tears along the seams, and splits open. Mason is shifting into his hybrid form. One-half man, one-half wolf. I gasp at the supernatural power of it all.
I want this, asked for it. There will come a point when I have to protect myself. When the gentleness will completely disappear from his eyes. When the Mason I know recedes into his bestial aspect, along with any clear memories of this time. It’ll happen fast and I will have to cast quickly.
At least, that’s what I thought would happen. Instead, Mason unclenches his jaw and relaxes his mouth. I’m waiting for him to pant like a dog. Instead, his canine tongue lashes out and slathers my nethers.
My mind goes blank. Really not what I was expecting. His wolf tongue is long and surprisingly soft, but that’s not all. It’s covered in tiny little protrusions that stimulate every part of me at once. I can’t think straight. Mason is actually lapping at me, drinking my ample juices. I don’t want him to stop. Ever.
Having his tongue on me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I can’t shut my eyes. The sensation is too overpowering for that. I’ve had some talented guys go down on me, including Mason in his purely human form, but none of those experiences can compare to this one. It’s almost too much of a good thing. Almost.
I’m not sure how much of this gratification my brain can handle, but Mason isn’t giving me a choice. Holding me down with his mammoth strength. He might not look like it, but Mason the man is still with me. His licking is too deliberate, too measured to be an animal. That is, until he stops licking and plunges his tongue between my lips.
Gods be good, it’s like having a regular-sized man inside me, but constantly moist and covered in tiny little feelers. His tongue fills every part of me, leaving no part untouched.
If there was a chance to catch my breath, it’s gone now. My orgasm falls on me without warning. No build. No gathering storm. It’s just there, washing over my body like a tidal wave. My eyes are wide open, but I’m not really seeing anything. The world has been blotted out.
That’s when I realize that I’m having another vision. The loft is gone and I’m floating in space, disconnected from my own body, but still tethered to it somehow. The tether is Mason’s tongue between my legs. You can’t experience this kind of sensory overload and go back to mortal men. I’m spoiled now. Yet that’s not even the most surprising revelation.
Still, as visions go, this one is relatively straightforward. No images, no omens, no disturbing or foreboding messages. Merely an augmented connection between me and Mason. Pure unadulterated pleasure, as his darting tongue induces one uncontrollable release after another.
At least, it felt that way for a moment.
I look down to admire Mason as he gratifies me, but it’s not Mason anymore. It’s not even the half-man, half-wolf version of Mason. It’s another man between my legs. Somebody I’ve never seen before—not at first blush, anyway.
He’s larger than Mason, bulky and robust, a barrel-chested man with grey-streaked hair. The grey hair doesn’t make him look old so much as distinguished. The chiseled, handsome features don’t hurt either. Still, it’s his eyes I want to see. I can’t see them because they’re closed, focused on the task in front of him. Like Mason, he’s too busy eating me out.
The grey-haired man must sense my gaze, because he finally looks up and makes eye contact. That’s when I recognize him, but not because I’ve seen him before. I haven’t. I recognize him because I’ve seen his eyes before, gleaming red and vicious in the dark. In a cave. In Norway. This is the wolf I saw Sylvia nestled against, but in his human shape.
Dammit. Why can’t anything be simple?
7. Swapped out for Seconds
I don’t have the heart to tell Mason, or stop him, but I’m picturing another man with his tongue between my legs. The vision has taken over, so I can’t help it, but the strangest part? It’s not a man I’ve ever seen before. Well, not in human form, at any rate.
If I can trust my visions, and I do, I saw this man earlier today during my last orgasm with Mason. Except I didn’t see him as I do now. I saw a wolf. Presumably the wolf this man can become.
The details are all suspiciously well aligned. Mason was turned by a wolf with red eyes that Sylvia drove away… as a teenage girl. That was sixteen years ago in Norway.
My last vision flew over land and sea to where I think Scandinavia is located. It could have been Norway, but the vision didn’t stop there. It flew into a burrow where there was a massive wolf. A wolf who wasn’t alone. Sylvia was there with him, nestled in his fur.
I still haven’t come up with an answer for that part. It’s hard to be sure of anything with my visions, but I’m sure Sylvia and this wolf connected somehow.
That’s when the red-eyed wolf saw me. At least, I think he saw me. It felt like I was actually there at the time. If I had to guess at what my vision is trying to tell me both then and now, I’d say that whomever this man is, he’s coming. Soon.
I clench my eyes shut and try to erase has face from my mind. Maybe if I focus hard enough,
I can dispel the vision.
“Are you all right?”
It’s Mason’s voice. His human voice.
I open my eyes again to see that he’s already changed back. That was fast.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
His chin is glistening with my juices.
“No. Not at all. Just the opposite. You have me in a lather.”
Well, you and a strange man with red eyes, I think.
Mason smiles. “I can taste how excited you are.”
“Oh gods!” I say, covering my face. “How horrible am I?”
“Not horrible at all. It’s like drinking nectar. And the scent gets me riled up.”
“I feel like a waterfall down there.”
“Good,” he says, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mason wags his tongue against my breach to prove his point.
“That’s because you’re crazy,” I tell him. “Why don’t you come up here instead?”
He does. You don’t have to ask Mason twice.
The familiar weight of his body presses against mine. I can feel his length sliding along my leg. It clearly has one thought. Find the warm place and disappear inside that moist sheath. My nethers are no less single-minded.
I want nothing more than to swallow up Mason and bask in his heat. He obliges my unspoken urgency, sliding into me effortlessly. No guidance required and no resistance offered. Mason growls into my neck, opens his mouth to bite me, and snaps at my flesh.
His entire body smothers me in the way that I love as he fills my depths. His breathing is steady, but I want it to be ragged again. I close my eyes and disappear into his rhythm. My hands travel down his muscular back and reach for his backside.
Mason drives into me with the insistence of a refreshing gale. I dig my fingers into the taut flesh of his ass, clutch the cheeks, and pull him closer. I want even more of his girth, all of him. I want the wolf.
I spread my legs farther apart to make that possible, bend them at the knees, and caress his flank with my feet. Mason collides with the back of my cavern, can’t help himself. He wants me like I want him.