by Ann Vremont
“How much longer?” she asked as the shots took effect.
Eli rolled Shariya onto her back and covered her with his blanket, prolonging the time until he would have to strap her down to the bed once more. “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve tried to stop or inhibit the infection. The suppressors could be reversing the infection or just slowing it down. Your own nanocells could be interfering.” Sitting up, he pressed his bare back to the wall. “I’m sorry, Shariya.”
“For what?” He’d done nothing but help her, as reluctant as she was to admit it.
He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “For letting this happen to you.” He glanced at her, his expression filled with an immense loneliness and guilt. “For not killing you once you were infected… I know you can’t want this.”
She could feel the effects of the double shot he had given her fading already and she rolled onto her side and started crawling toward the mattress. He helped her onto it, his hand lingering on her back and thigh just long enough to spark her arousal all over again. Then he was tying her down.
His muscles bunched as he worked, tugging each triple knot tight to make sure she wouldn’t have so easy a time escaping again. When she had interviewed him at the Wendigo outpost, she had guessed him to be in his late thirties despite the steely hair that covered his head and tufted at the collar of his uniform. Looking at his shirtless body, his frame some six and a half feet of solid muscle, she would still describe him as that young. And the way he smelled… oh, god, there was no description for how good he smelled.
She started to squirm against the ropes until her actions forced him to look up at her face instead of the sinuous curves and full breasts of her naked body. “Promise me,” she started. “No more suppressors. I want this over with.”
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he nodded. “Okay.”
“And, Eli, I not only need you to touch me -- I want you to.”
“No, Shariya,” he answered, shaking his head violently. “You wouldn’t want me to touch you if you knew the things I’ve done these last few months.”
She moved her head until she had captured his gaze again. “Nothing different than what I’d be doing right now if you hadn’t helped me.”
“Those bodies…” He couldn’t finish, and started to turn from her.
“Tell me, Eli,” she coaxed, her voice low and soothing. “Tell me and touch me -- help both our hurts.”
* * *
Eli looked down at Shariya’s bound body. Unless her metabolism was coming out of the conversion phase, the suppressors would wear off completely within a few minutes. She’d managed to stay quiet and near motionless since offering him the chance at confession and touching that sweet body. She kept her eyes closed, too, and he wondered if she was subconsciously providing him a level of anonymity or hiding from her own needs.
He didn’t care. It let him look at her without feeling guilty. She had been lovely before the change, her body toned and athletic from the type of work she did for the Ministry. The boyish haircut she wore had only accented the fine bone structure of her face, with the high cheekbones and full lips. But the conversion had taken each point of loveliness and raised it to the pinnacle of perfection for him. The thighs, calves and ass had rounded with added muscle, her abs had a toned ripple, and the added heaviness on the bottom was balanced out by an uplifting and swelling of her breasts. The nipples were puffed and shaded a dark maroon, the color of some alien and irresistible berry. He remembered how sensitive his own body had been during the conversion and reached out to ever so faintly brush the pad of his thumb across one nipple.
Shariya gasped and arched as high as her restraints allowed. “Tell me,” she whispered when she came back down.
He traced an eight around the diameter of her breasts, slowly drawing the circles tighter with each cycle. She was panting by the time he was back to tracing her nipples and he could smell arousal ripening deep in her pussy. He wanted to dip his head and taste her, but knew he would get lost in the taste and texture of her wet folds. And he didn’t want to lose the chance to unburden himself.
Still tracing the figure eight, he told her about Jester Dupre. “I was Dupre’s first victim after the bastard returned from Nu Seato. He’d been assigned to a six-month rotation at the Overcorp’s Akuma facilities. After infecting me, Dupre move on to infecting the worst of the worst the Lake Superior stations had to offer in personnel. I found the remains of a family of eight, netted and hanging from the trees as food for the long winter ahead. I knew then it enough just to avoid Dupre and the other’s he’d infected.”
Shariya stiffened at that, eyes wide open, and he quickly bent to kiss them shut.
“Hell, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “No one needs that in their head.” He kissed her ear, laving its perimeter and trailing down her throat to one nipple. He sucked at it, pulling it taut with his lips until it was hard again and she was back in the world of sensations.
“After that,” he said, kissing his way to the other plump nipple, “I started hunting them… the three maulings you investigated, I killed them, but they were Dupre’s creatures.”
He had tied each of Shariya’s ankles to opposite sides of the frame. He could have tied them to the bottom center of the frame, leaving her legs more modestly pressed together, but, after the last three nights of watching her squirming naked on the bed, he’d been twitching to see her splayed like this. Mouth descending onto the neglected nipple, he slid across her so that his lower body lay between her spread legs.
At the contact of his bare stomach against her mound, he could smell a fresh wave of cream coat her pussy, pushing the warm honey of her cunt past her lips to wet his skin. He bit lightly down on the nipple, his left hand cupping her other breast to roughly tease it. She tried to wrap her legs around him; the restraints stopped her.
“Fuck me, Eli.” Shariya growled the command, using the strength of her upper torso to jerk at the ties around her waist. Her legs were like bound snakes trying to trap him. “Please, Eli, I fucking need it so bad.”
He kissed her, if only to shut her up, but it instantly turned into something more. His chest contracted and he brought his arms up under her to hold her tighter. His tongue lengthened, swelled, and he felt Shariya’s do the same. They kissed like that, two minutes, maybe three, tongues twisting, breathless, their bodies rigid everywhere else. And then she shuddered beneath him. Pussy. Wet pussy. Wet from climax. That was all he could think of after she came and he moved quickly down her body, nipping her flesh as he went until his impossibly long tongue reached the top split of her labia.
His chin inches above her pussy as he watched her arching her upper back and neck, Eli parted her lower lips with his tongue. Up and down the spine of her clit he moved his tongue, his cock throbbing from her displays of pleasure. Curling the flat of his tongue along her clit’s length, he used the tip to separately tease the hood and urethra. Shariya cried out, trembled violently and came again.
Still watching her and licking her pussy in long swipes, he reached behind him and forced his arms to elongate until he felt her feet and the ties around them. Then the claws came out, snipping at the fabric until her legs were free and wrapped around him.
He buried his face in her pussy, his top lip kneading her clit while the long, thick tongue slid inside her cunt. His claws safely retracted, he reached up and tugged at both of her nipples, tongue thrusting hard inside her. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the texture of his lips and face until they were transformed to a raspy bristle, treating her to the rub of a five o’clock shadow.
“Eli. Eli, yes.”
He didn’t need to look up to see she was crying or know she was hyperventilating in her climax. Even buried between the sweet folds of her cunt, he could smell her tears, hear the rapid pants of her breathing as he possessed her pussy with his mouth. He felt the earlier contraction of his chest abate at last and swelled with the knowledge that, without ever putting his cock in her
, he could surely fuck her to oblivion.
Elongating his tongue thrusts, milking her luscious tits with his strong hands, he drove her straight there.
* * *
Shariya woke to find only her hand restraints in place and a blanket over her tired but satisfied body. She looked to the opposite wall where Eli had returned to his mat and slept soundly. She wanted to get out of the restraints without waking him. She closed her eyes, focusing on the things she had learned about her body as he had pleasured it.
She concentrated on her wrists and her hands, imagining them more jelly-like and hoping they wouldn’t stay that way. When she felt the bone softening, she tugged her hands through the ties.
Shit, she thought, realizing she should have looked at her hands more closely before deforming them. She looked at Eli’s hand over his chest then shook her head. Bad idea. It certainly was a beautiful hand, strong and capable of doing amazing things to her body -- but she could do without the light dusting of hair or its masculine width.
Damn, okay… just keep calm. She thought about her hands, about holding things -- things like Eli’s cock, which she just knew had to be as solid and tantalizing as the rest of him. Oh fuck, she groaned, then glanced to see if she’d woken him. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to have dicks for hands. She took another breath and imagined herself holding other things, a pen, shaking hands, a steering wheel, her gun. Slowly, she felt the bones begin to re-solidify, the knuckles forming and bending.
Holding in a relieved sigh, Shariya slipped from the bed, wrapped the blanket around her and concentrated on walking quietly from the makeshift room and further down the mineshaft. She’d listened to Eli’s little trips down the tunnel over the course of the last three days. There were jugs of water and a washbasin. No toilet or waste bucket -- such things were irrelevant to anyone with the volume of nanocells the SHIFTER virus continually produced.
What she wanted was to clean up. Eli had washed her each day with water and a wet cloth. He’d done so quickly, eyes downcast and able to continue only so long as she wasn’t moaning for him to touch her more thoroughly. Now she wanted a hard scrubbing, and she filled the washbasin. She’d felt like she was burning up these last few days, and the water was cold perfection as she ran the wet cloth over her face and chest. She wanted to be refreshed not just for herself, but for him, and after the first few seconds of savoring the water on her skin, she moved more efficiently, finishing by dumping another jug of water over her head and running her fingers through the short cut hair.
Finding nothing to dry off with, she folded the blanket into a tight square and walked naked back into the room. Eli was sitting, back against the wall, in the same position she’d seen him in over a dozen times the last few days, his gaze not quite on her nude form.
“I woke you?”
“Before you got your hands out of the restraints,” he answered, and reached out to pull one of her hands to him. Grinning, he examined it. “Yep, good job. Took a while, though.”
He dropped her hand and stared at the opposite wall. “Your clothes were pretty well ruined.” Still not looking at her, he tilted his head at a metal footlocker. “Some sweatpants in there until we can figure out what to do.”
Oh, he isn’t getting away with it that easily, Shariya thought and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Good,” she said.
He was sitting on the floor with one knee bent and his hand resting on it. She pushed the hand away and gently forced his leg down so she could straddle him.
“Shariya --”
She placed a fingertip against his lips. That damn chivalry was starting to annoy her. She might ask him where it had been when he decided she could be bait for Jester Dupre, but she didn’t think he’d decided on that until she and Darrin had first been attacked. In the end, she didn’t think she could fault any of his actions, particularly after everything she’d learned about him these last few days.
“What is it you don’t like about me?” she asked, her voice soft and teasing. She had meant to ask it seriously, but every sense she possessed told her how aroused he was. She could see the shallow breathing and flushed skin, hear the shift of his cock from resting against his thigh to being hard and thick against his stomach. She could feel it throb against her swollen clit despite the interference of his pants. She could taste the sweat on his skin, smell it mingle with pre-cum -- even her mind pounded with his need.
He blinked once, his expression showing disbelief that she could ask such a question even as a joke. “Noth --” He stopped, grinned again and looked up at the short crop of black hair. “I wouldn’t mind something to knot my fingers through, I guess.”
Arching against him, breasts sliding in front of his face, she tilted her head back and concentrated. She felt hair uncurling along her neck to whisper against the bottom edge of her shoulder blades. Eli reached up, grabbed two handfuls and drew her tight.
“You sure?” he asked, still hesitating when he clearly had the will and force to take her anyway.
“Never been more sure,” Shariya answered and wrapped her arms around his head until his lips were pressed to her cleavage.
Eli rose up onto his knees and she wrapped her legs around his hips, reveling in the heavy bulge of his cock through his pants. Holding her tight, he made it to his feet and carried her to the bed, sat her at its edge and then backed away. His pants were made from the same thick, almost seamless poly-carbon fabric the facility’s standard winter uniform was cut from. As far as clothing went, the pants weren’t at all discreet and she could see every glorious ripple of veins through his cock before he began inching the material down his hips.
Shariya stayed there at the edge of the bed, arms propping her up as she watched him strip. God, he was beautiful. Where she was darker, he was a pale cream with silver blue veins just beneath the surface of his skin branching out across his muscles. The steel gray hair, feathering at its ends, stopped a few inches above the nipples. The nipples themselves were a light pink, small and tight with his excitement.
In his natural form, he had a swimmer’s body, long and lean and narrow waisted. A powerful ass and thighs promised a long night of thrusting. She wanted to lick him from head to toe.
Starting with that cock. When the pants were fully peeled from him, she reached out and grabbed it. “Are you going to fuck me with this, Eli?” she asked, her voice all breathless anticipation. She ran her hands over it, closed her eyes and took her first lick. “Because I really, really want you to.”
Eli put his hands on her shoulders, ready to push her down onto the mattress, but she slowly shook her head at him. What he had done to her with his wickedly long tongue, she would do to him. She took a second lick, slower than the first.
“Oh, hell, Shariya,” he gasped, his hands stretching above his head to press his palms flat against the uneven ceiling. “That’s… that’s --”
When her tongue covered his cock from the base of his balls to the head, he abruptly stopped trying to talk. She lapped at him like that, making her tongue all velvet smoothness where his had been deliciously rough against her pussy the night before. He rocked on his heels, took one hand from the ceiling and threaded his fingers tightly through her hair.
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
She forced his legs further apart. Tongue lengthening, she kept stroking his full cock, her tip smoothing down his perineum to flicker at the tight ring of muscles.
The room vibrated with his groan, the sound echoing down the mine’s tunnel. “Now I’m really going to come,” he said, squeezing at the handful of hair.
That was the last warning he could give, his cum rippling through his cock a split second later. It spurted warm and thick against the roof of her mouth and she closed her lips around the tip, milking the whole of his shaft, her tongue sliding in unison with each ripple of cum through him.
Eli pried her away, pushed her back onto the mattress and quickly scooped her legs up so that his hands cupped
the underside of her knees and her legs pressed down on her tits. Still hard, he speared into her. She made herself tighter, he made himself swell thicker and longer until they were both grunting and grinding from the sensation of total union.
When she thought it couldn’t get any better, he grabbed her ankles with one hand and slowly pushed her legs forward until he could stare down at her pussy. He dipped the pad of his thumb in the juice that had squeezed past the tight seal of her pussy and his cock and then slid the digit between her labia, finding the sweet spot of her clit and beginning to rub. His index finger joined his thumb and he pinched her clit, tugging rhythmically at it as he rotated his hips, his thrusts driving deep into her.
Her pussy fluttered around him as her first climax rolled over her. Eli kept pumping into her, his thumb sliding behind his cock to gather more of her cream before he trailed it slowly down to her ass. Shariya threw her arms up, her forearms covering her eyes as her ass squirmed against his touch. Each stroke along the eager ring brought a ripple of ecstasy shuddering across her body. Eli moaned as she vibrated against him. He pushed forward, his body a straight line, and rocked her body with him. His thumb pushed into her ass, sank to the knuckle. He kept his hand tight, his fingers curving around her tailbone to keep the pressure stacked on the sensitive nerves that ringed the opening.
Shariya locked around Eli, forcing him to still within her. He pulled her feet closer to his chest, feeling her cervix tilt against his cock. The position took the last of Shariya’s control from her, the friction of his cock hitting every nerve in her cunt. She called his name, seized, felt him fall into step behind her, his cock rippling once with cum as it ejected deep into her.
Eli slowly brought Shariya’s feet back down to the mattress, massaged her hips and thighs as he withdrew. Moving further down the bed, he rubbed her calves, kissed her stomach, ran his tongue down the seam of her cunt. Sliding to the side of the mattress, he fished behind him for the blanket, snagged it and drew it across them.