Captive Moon

by C. T. Adams

  With near panic, Antoine moved his mouth to her neck. Nipping and sucking frantically, he pushed her onto her back with a snarl. “Perhaps we’ll get more creative next time, but for now, I only want to fuck you until you scream for mercy. I’d suggest you hang on tight.”

  He nibbled at her lips and then rose to his knees. Grabbing the back of her legs, he wrapped them around his waist and lifted her to meet his powerful thrust into her.

  It all happened so quickly that she only had time for a startled yelp before his massive organ filled her again. He started a slow rhythm that increased in speed, causing a sharp, wet slapping sound with each stroke. She grabbed on to his shoulders to keep her head from slamming against the headboard from the sheer force. More power began to bleed off him, stuffing her completely full with everything he had to offer. She grabbed on to his hair and pulled herself upward into a kiss filled with lips and tongue and teeth. Her fingernails dug in the back of his neck and clawed down his shoulders, causing him to moan with passion. He gnawed lightly on her tongue and then pulled back, moving his hands to the back of her thighs. He pulled her legs open wider and raised them until her calves rested on his shoulders. The change in angle caused every tiny movement to constantly rub against her swollen clitoris.

  Abruptly, he stopped moving, but she felt him throbbing inside her impatiently. With a chuckle, he pushed in just a fraction deeper, pressing against her cervix. It caused a full body shudder so intense it nearly hurt. His voice was filled with teasing. “Have you had enough? Shall I stop now?”

  “I’ve never…I need…please!” She felt panicked and her breath started to erupt in pants.

  “You ‘need’?” He pulled out slowly enough to drive her mad and then pushed himself in again. He was toying with her and enjoying it thoroughly. “You need me to stop? Or you need me to make you come so hard you scream?”

  It was so hard to think. “I need…don’t stop.” She closed her eyes and nearly sobbed. “Please don’t stop, Antoine!”

  He rearranged her legs against his neck and lightly stroked his hands down her burning thighs. With infinite slowness that made her whimper, he withdrew again and then slammed into her fully. The sudden movement against her swollen flesh hit her brain like a knife. A strangled cry rose from her mouth, and her hands scrambled and dug into his shoulders.

  Where the first orgasm was without warning, this one built slowly in her abdomen. Her world narrowed to the sensation of her body moving on the bed, bent nearly double, totally possessed and helpless as Antoine rammed himself in and out of her in a near frenzy that was more fulfilling than any sensation she’d ever imagined. His aroma became a thick, sweet musk that was filled with citrus and spice and the lingering scent of brandy. Her own grew in response until the sandalwood-infused sex smell was nearly a cloud over the bed. Magic became a flame that seared over her skin and flowed through her veins like lava. The heat and pain terrified her, made her want to run away and hide from what was happening to her.

  Then he smiled down at her, and it fluttered her heart, not just her body.

  Trust me, the smile said. I’ll protect you.

  “Let go,” he whispered. “Let the woman master the beast. Let the magic fill us both and make us whole.”

  And somehow, she knew they could do it. He was just that powerful, and so was she. They could control the fire inside and it wouldn’t destroy them. Her fear dissolved and she gave in to a hunger that burned as rich and deep as the moon magic that created them.

  Antoine began to breathe fast and hard. Low growls with each breath made her pulse race, and his power slowly pierced her belly like a dull blade. Down and down it seared until it was between her legs, turning her insides to jelly. She realized with a start that he was doing it intentionally, using the energy to bring her to climax.

  “Time to scream,” he said breathlessly, and sent a wave of golden light to surround her and fill every pore to bursting. Every inch of her skin began to tingle and move as though a dozen people were fondling her simultaneously. Invisible lips kissed her, and the sensation of a mouth sucked on her neck, pulled at each breast and licked at her toes. The power vibrated and swelled inside her, stretching and moving like a caged cat desperate to be free. The pleasure increased until she was helpless and lost inside the fury of it.

  She cried out his name over and over like a mantra and then just screamed—frantic, ragged sounds that made her throat hot. She clutched at anything and everything around her as he rode her to the most intense climax of her life. The sheer force created a spasm so strong that he could barely pull out of her and had trouble getting back in. But he let out a lion’s roar of raw power and thrust hard, pushing her body against the headboard. She could feel him expand inside her as he filled her completely.

  But even then he wasn’t done, because he continued to thrust into her with slow, delicious strokes, fully enjoying his own orgasm until he was spent and limp. With each penetration and withdrawal, he pulled on the power inside her, reeling it back inside himself like fishing line until her skin felt cool and damp from the absence of heat. The sensation of pulling, combined with his slowing thrusts, caused another series of mini climaxes that left her breathless and boneless, unable to move or think.

  When he finally released her legs and collapsed onto her, her face was damp from tears of pleasure and sheer exhaustion. After a moment, as their hearts slowed together, he pulled out of her and rolled to the side, drawing her against him until she was resting on his broad chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist contentedly, her eyes still closed in the afterglow and wonderful sensation of floating.

  “And that,” he said a bit breathlessly, “is what the woman inside needed.”

  It took two tries before she could moisten her mouth and work her jaws enough to get words out. “No shit! But I gotta tell you—the tiger is pretty happy about it, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I WANT ANSWERS!” Sargon’s fingers dug into Zuberi’s dark throat, causing him to cough and gasp and roll his eyes as he fought for breath. “Explain to me why I should not turn you over to Dr. Portes as her next experiment!”

  Nasil spoke in his place, taking a moment to lap in the delicious scent of the lion’s fear. It was probable that Zuberi would be unable to answer any questions for some time after Sargon was finished with him. “The details are sketchy, my lord. But it appears that the tiger and the councilman became aware that the men Zuberi sent were tracking them. It is probably my fault for not considering the moon’s effect on heightening their senses. The kinsman of Zuberi is no great loss, but Juma’s death is upsetting.”

  Sargon abruptly dropped Zuberi to the cave floor in a heap, where he gagged and wheezed through his nearly collapsed windpipe. “Yes, it is. It’s unfortunate that we will lose that source of information in the hyena camp. But the more pressing concern is Kareem’s capture. We cannot allow his loyalty to us to be discovered. He is known by too many on the council and in Wolven. Any one of them might be sent to eliminate him before the human authorities can try and sentence him for the animal deaths, and then our plan will be undone.”

  Nasil bent his head in deference to his master. “What would you have me do? Who shall I contact to take care of this?”

  He could feel Sargon’s eyes burning on him, but held his ground. “I think this is a job best handled by you, Nasil. Eliminate Kareem with a single bite before anyone can discover him.”

  For the first time in a very long while, Nasil raised his eyes to his master’s in shock. “I?…Uhm, my lord, do you feel that wise? How can I explain the source of the poison or my presence? Technology is far superior to what it was the last time I killed by bite. If I were to be found out—”

  Sargon turned his back. He paced a few steps with staccato movements, and it revealed a surprising frustration to Nasil. Then he turned with pursed lips. “I’ve considered that and dismissed it. I am not a fool, Nasil. I know the resources that coroners have available today. But thi
s duty is too important to trust to just anyone. Fortunately, the German police will not allow the body to be removed or examined by anyone but their own until after an autopsy, and we have already eliminated all the Wolven agents who speak German. We will have captured the cat, filled and drained her, and then disappeared before that happens.”

  “But…but, my lord—”

  Nasil didn’t dare dart out his tongue to learn what his master was feeling, but kept his eyes on Sargon, even though he knew that level of attention was a danger.

  Sargon let out a slow breath and then flicked his tongue rapidly to catch the air around him. “You can easily explain away your absence, and even if you’re found out, they have no way to find us. We will be leaving soon enough, so your discovery as a spy isn’t nearly as critical as Kareem’s death.” He stepped the few feet back and stared coldly at Nasil for a long moment. “However, I am concerned that perhaps your loyalty to me isn’t as strong as it once was. You’ve never before questioned an assignment. Murder is nothing new to you, and you have always been my first and best weapon. Why do you resist this small whim of mine?”

  Nasil fought to suppress the flash of fear that cut through him like a knife. Fortunately, the air was still thick with the panic of the lion. When Sargon flicked his tongue a second time, he appeared slightly mollified by the fact that Nasil’s scent hadn’t changed.

  Just to be safe, Nasil dropped to his knees and prostrated in submission, muddying the knees and forearms of the ski pants he wore to keep his body warm. Fortunately, the clothing underneath would remain unstained. “I would not fail you in any assignment you chose to bestow on me, my lord Sargon. But if our sleeper agents do not succeed in capturing the tiger, then we will continue to need the information I have for so long provided about the actions of the council. Also, there is the chance—however small—that the girl is not a true power well. If she dies, then our future opportunities will be limited if I am outed or killed.”

  He felt a flash of power, and then the thick, golden body of his master’s animal form rose above him.

  “You raissse valid pointsss, and ssstate your case eloquently, Nasssil. It isss as you sssay—and yet I remain concccerned. Go forth and eliminate Kareem and then return to my ssside for further inssstructionsss. Awaken the sssleepers to perform the duty they were assigned. Do not reveal yourssself if you can avoid it, but I will expect your absssolute loyalty if your identity is uncovered. Now go!”

  Nasil closed his eyes and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that only years of intense training kept from his scent. Further discussion was useless. He feared that Sargon’s judgment was growing unstable as plan after plan failed. He stood and looked up into the cold, golden eyes of the king cobra towering over him by nearly fifteen feet. Sargon’s head was bent just a bit to keep from brushing the cave ceiling far above, and his forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth angrily.

  His master’s hood was fully extended, and he opened his mouth to reveal fangs dripping with venom. Nasil didn’t flinch or turn his devoted gaze, even when the poison splattered on the rocks next to his feet. Sargon’s anger was the stuff of nightmares. Nasil hoped never to be on the receiving end. “Your will be done, my lord.”

  “Yesss, it will be.” The cobra turned like lightning and slithered over to where Zuberi still cowered against the wall. “And now, my inept lion—let us sssee how quickly you can run.” With a flash of power, he forced Zuberi into his animal form. With an immediate leap sideways, as though expecting an attack, the lion avoided a spray of thick, yellowish venom and raced into the darkness. Sargon started to slither in chase, but then stopped before he reached the edge of the torchlight.

  “Before you leave, Nasil, please ask Rachel to prepare herself for my bedchamber. I believe I will be feeling quite amorous after this chase.”

  Nasil didn’t even want to think about that image. He’d seen Sargon’s version of sex in the past. There had been little left of the woman to take away and dispose of. But the spider seemed a match for him, in more ways than one. Perhaps part of her attraction was that the spiders preyed on their kind. An edge of true danger to his life was something that Sargon had never experienced, as powerful as he had become over the centuries.

  Nasil took a deep breath as his master began his chase of the lion and cautiously stepped to the entrance to the side chamber where their prisoners were held. The thrashing of the shifters against their chains didn’t bother him, but the sickly sweet scent of Dr. Portes set his nerves on edge. He stepped into the room, where dozens of battery-operated lanterns brightened the room.

  “Dr. Portes? May I speak to you?”

  The tiny Guatemalan woman turned from her task of feeding the two men in the cages. They glared at him as he entered, but the spider’s power prevented them from speaking. While he didn’t believe it wise to keep the tiger and lion healthy and at full strength, the good doctor had convinced Sargon it was vital to the experiments.

  “Of course, Nasil. How may I assist you?” The sing-song, echoing trill in her voice that made her sound like a chorus of cicadas made him shudder every time he heard it. He was certain that she used it only with him, because she knew it bothered him. Her smile was malicious.

  “Sargon requests the pleasure of your company in his chamber. He will join you after his hunt.” Nasil struggled to keep the distaste from his voice and scent. She had too willing of an ear in his master, and he had no question about where the doubts about his loyalty had originated.

  It was as though she heard his thoughts. “You’ve grown soft and contented in your assumed life, Nasil. You’ve become a danger to our mission. But Sargon will only see your treachery if you’re given enough rope.”

  Nasil nodded his head. “I should have guessed that you were the one who suggested it. Why do you hate me so? We both serve the same master.”

  She walked toward him, in human form as she did when a spider, with rapid, clipped steps. “Because you’re his favorite, but I intend to be soon. I cannot kill you without incurring his wrath, so I will simply make certain that you’re put in a position to fail.”

  Nasil’s eyes narrowed. “Better than you have tried. You have no concept of my full potential, spider.”

  Her coal-black eyes moved around in the sockets as she focused on him at short range and smiled again. “And you have no concept of mine. Thank you for the message. You should hurry to your assignment, Nasil. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Sargon, now would you?”

  He didn’t respond. He simply turned on his heel and departed as quickly as he could, determined to prove his loyalty by bringing a quick but painful death to the prisoner inside the German jail. He heard frantic whispers of desperate running in the distance before the cave swallowed the sounds. As he wound his way up to the hidden, secondary exit, he considered his position and that of Zuberi. While chasing the lion was a favorite game of his master’s—one that the tall black man considered a challenge—he had never been forced into a chase while injured.

  But perhaps, just perhaps, the point was to catch him today. Only time would tell. But how long would it be before he was the one racing through the darkness with a devil at his heels?

  Chapter Twelve

  “TAHIRA?”

  Bruce’s voice made her look up from the book in her lap. He was sweating profusely and splatters of mud covered his face and gloves. His natural scent of roasted hazelnuts was more intense with the sweat.

  “Are you okay in here? It should just be a few more minutes until we’ve got a path cleared.”

  “I guess it’s pretty icy out there, huh? I can hear the spinning tires from here.”

  He shrugged and walked farther into the room to stand near the fire. He pulled off the leather gloves and wiped his forehead, then held his palms near the roaring flames. “It’s not so much icy as sloppy. It’s melted just enough to turn the snow into soup. But it’s so blasted deep that we push piles with the bumper, and then the wheels slip off the road and we h
ave to dig out. Man, do I wish that Charles had a plow here.”

  “Is Larry doing okay out there? I could go out and help.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Nah, he’s driving the SUV with the heater blasting, so he’s fine, but my fingers were getting numb, so they sent me in here to warm up for a minute. But with Antoine and Matty both shoveling, it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Tahira threaded the ribbon between the pages she was reading and closed the book. She tapped her nails on the cover as she thought of what to say. “You know, I don’t know what to think about that, so maybe you can give me some advice. I’m not very good at accepting charity. I know I don’t have any money or even a passport, but I don’t like feeling…well, indebted to Antoine. I mean, yeah, we—” She broke off with a blush, not sure if anyone knew what happened upstairs. “But…is this normal for him? He said that I could buy anything I wanted and he’d put it on his credit card. So is he just, like, massively generous and does that for you guys, too? I mean, I’m flattered that he would be willing to buy me some things that fit. Heck, he didn’t even have to let me use his sister’s stuff up to now. I don’t want to insult him, but—”

  If Bruce knew about them having sex, he didn’t give any sign. He just sighed and started to sit down on the chair next to hers, but then remembered the mud and perched on the edge of the low table in front of her. He waggled his head and she couldn’t sort out any particular emotion from the jumble rising from him. “Well, yes and no. He can be quite generous, but he isn’t all that often. He pays us all a good wage, but it’s not like he showers us with cash. Larry and I still had to get a loan for our new condo. But,” he amended, “he did cosign for us when we couldn’t qualify, so that was nice. Not many bosses would do that.”