by JC Holly
“That’s good,” he said.
“So’s that,” Bernie said, referring to the slap. “Do it again.”
Snow slapped him again and Bernie moaned softly at the sting of pain, perfectly counterbalanced by the pleasure Snow’s cock was bringing.
“Again,” he said. “Harder.”
Snow was happy to oblige, and delivered a stinging slap to the same cheek. “Good boy,” he said. “I like a man who likes it rough.”
“Slap me harder, then,” Bernie said. “Make me feel it.”
The next blow took his breath away. He gritted his teeth and nodded at Snow’s questioning glance in the mirror. Another came, then another. At the same time Snow began to build in speed. The bed began to creak from their efforts, and Bernie let out another long groan.
“Fuck me,” he moaned. “Treat me like a slut.”
“Oh, I intend to,” Snow said, his voice uncharacteristically low. He almost growled. “You’re mine. This ass is mine to do whatever I want to.”
Another slap, this time on the other cheek, made Bernie yelp.
“That’s it,” Snow said. “I love to hear you.”
Bernie let out another moan, this time longer and louder, and Snow snarled as he picked up the speed even further. He began to take long strokes, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back inside Bernie’s ass. He was going so deep that his balls slapped against Bernie’s already tender flesh.
“Watch yourself,” Snow said, his voice strained. “Watch me fuck you like a slut.”
Bernie did as he was told, and watched as Snow pounded his thick cock into Bernie like he was nothing more than a sex toy. Bernie bit his lip, then remembered Snow liked it loud, and cried out instead. He’d never in his life felt so turned on. Not with Steve, not with the other guys before that, not ever.
Snow kept working hard and fast, occasionally following up with another stinging slap. It soon became too much for Bernie, and with a cry he came hard, his cock pulsing between him and the bed, his cum warm against his belly. Snow must have felt the sensation himself, and began to work faster still, reaching an almost inhuman pace. With a sudden gasp he pulled out of Bernie and flipped him onto his back before dropping on top of him, his knees either side of Bernie’s waist, and his cock inches from Bernie’s face.
Snow tore away the condom and worked his cock hard. Bernie opened his mouth just as thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip, covering his lips, chin, and cheek with hot seed. He caught as much in his mouth as he could, then almost gagged as Snow plunged his cock into Bernie’s mouth.
“Clean it,” he said with a ragged voice.
Bernie did as he was told, bobbing on the cock as another spurt came from it. He worked his tongue around the head until nothing remained, then swallowed the load. Snow pulled away and collapsed on the bed beside him, breathing as hard as Bernie.
They lay like that for what felt like an hour before Snow finally chuckled and rolled onto his side, facing Bernie. All the lust and aggression was once again gone, leaving only Snow’s trademark grin.
“Now that…” He ran a finger along Bernie’s chest. “That was fun.”
Bernie raised an eyebrow. “Fun? Fun doesn’t even come close to describing that.” He returned Snow’s grin. “More like incredible. Or awe-inspiring.”
Snow shuffled closer until his warm skin was against Bernie’s. “I’m glad. Some people see how aggressive I get and don’t like it.”
Bernie smirked. “It was a bit of a surprise at first, but it wasn’t a bad surprise. I love that you get so into it. After all, it was my body that was doing it to you.”
“Very true.” Snow slid his hand down to Bernie’s cock and ran a finger through the cum that covered his belly. “Looks like you made a bit of a mess.” He brought the finger to his lips and sucked it clean. “I think we need a shower.”
Bernie laughed and stood. “I think so.”
Snow joined him, then moved close, kissing him on the forehead. “And by ‘shower’, I mean I’m going to fuck you in the bathroom.”
Bernie could only nod.
Chapter Eleven
Snow dropped Bernie off at his place a little before three, and was surprised at how sad he was to see the man go. They’d been together for an aborted attack, two dates, and a morning at his penthouse. That was barely enough to get to know someone, never mind have the kind of thoughts Snow was beginning to have.
It was corny to think, never mind say, but Bernie was different from his usual dates. The man was witty, good-looking, and he also had a brain and enjoyed a lot of the things Snow enjoyed. Normally Snow just aimed for cute and took it from there. They’d have some fun, and then drift apart pretty rapidly afterwards. It was shallow, but it was also a hell of a lot of fun. This time, though, Snow didn’t want to drift.
That meant that they’d have to have “the chat” soon, though. Snow would have to sit Bernie down and explain who and what he was, then prepare himself for whatever came next. They were thoughts for another time, though. At that moment, he had work to do.
From Bernie’s place, he headed in the opposite direction to his apartment, toward the address he’d obtained from his interrogation the previous evening. According to the man, there was a meeting that night to discuss what he had called “progress.” What the group was progressing toward, the man had been unable to tell Snow, no matter what he did. Once he was certain of that fact, they went over what he’d already heard, then called in a local warlock who healed the man and wiped the last ten years of his memory. After that a couple of shifters drove the man out of town and dropped him onto a waiting boat. He’d end up in another city, not knowing how he got there, but he’d live. Shifters weren’t the bad guys, after all.
Mindful of the fact that he had no idea how big the group was, and that at least one witch had been a member, Snow parked a block away from the address, then made the rest of the trip on foot. He’d worn loose-fitting clothing in case he needed to shift, and a hat to cover his trademark hair. Surveillance wasn’t best suited to someone as distinctive as Snow, but he needed to be there.
Another two shifters were headed to the address, a warehouse not dissimilar to the one Snow had used last night, from different directions. If all went well, their alpha would have three separate accounts of the proceedings. If it went badly, for instance if there were more members than expected and a fight broke out, there was a better chance of getting at least one account.
Snow was coming in from the north, and by the looks of it, he had the best position. If he climbed to a roof opposite, he could watch the people enter and leave, and see them from the higher windows once they started their meeting. If the night was quiet, he’d also be able to hear at least snatches of what was said. He was confident that between the three of them, they’d hear something good.
He was an hour earlier than the scheduled start. A large number of spells used by witches to detect intruders were based on new people entering an area. If he was already in position when those spells were cast, they’d be useless. He’d told the other shifters the same, so they’d be getting into their hiding holes soon, too.
Sure enough, as he climbed the fire escape of the building opposite the warehouse, his phone vibrated with a text message. It was from June, and read simply, Dinner at eight? The chances of the group having the ability to read the contents of a cell phone were infinitesimal, but it was never a good idea to have, I’m ready to spy on a group of people, and eager to kill them if necessary bouncing through a cell satellite. He replied with, Sure, but you’re paying, and pocketed his phone.
He found a spot next to a satellite dish and hunkered into its lengthening shadow. From his spot he could see the door leading into the warehouse, and through the windows above it. It wasn’t a perfect spot, but it would do. He rolled his shoulders and waited.
As soon as his mind stilled, Bernie reappeared in it. Rather, a naked Bernie. It didn’t help Snow stay alert, but it certainly wasn’t unpleasant,
either. Feelings of guilt began to creep in, though, when he considered that he’d slept with the man without telling him about his true nature. Sure, that was generally how he operated, but with Bernie it felt somehow wrong. Snow sighed and shook the thoughts away, promising himself that before their next sexual encounter, Bernie would know everything.
* * * *
Bernie woke with a groan as his alarm clock reminded him it was time for work. The mild depression lasted only seconds, though, and was replaced with a smile and a chuckle as he remembered that Snow had told his office he wouldn’t be in for a couple of days. With a long, contented breath, he rolled over and fell back to sleep.
The next time he woke was much more pleasant. The aroma of pancakes wafted into his bedroom, followed by Nadia calling to him, asking if he were hungry. He replied with, “God, yes,” then headed to the bathroom.
As he stood, he realized just how achy he was, thanks to Snow. Their activities on the bed had been mind-blowing, but Bernie didn’t even want to know how bruised his ass was. Snow had treated it like a set of bongos. The memories sent blood south, and it took a lot of cold water before a certain part of his body started to obey him again.
Nadia came into the bathroom to announce that his breakfast was ready, and tossed him a towel before disappearing once more. Bernie wondered if she’d spotted the bruises. Judging from the smirk on her lips as she had left, the answer was yes.
“You never said you liked it rough,” she said as he stepped into the lounge.
He felt his cheeks darken as he sat, the action reminding him that perhaps standing would have been better. “Depends on the guy.”
“And Snow is the kind of guy you like to get rough with?”
Bernie grinned. “Snow is the kind of guy I’d be willing to do anything with. But yeah. I enjoy it.”
Nadia shrugged and headed into the kitchen. That was apparently her entire opinion on the matter. She’d clearly only brought it up to see him blush.
“So how do you think it’s going, other than the obvious?” she called from the vicinity of the coffee maker.
“Good. We seem to have a lot in common, we make each other laugh, and we’re clearly attracted to each other. He doesn’t care that I’m broke, and I don’t care that he’s loaded. Though it doesn’t hurt,” he added with a smirk.
Nadia popped her head around the kitchen door. “Loaded?”
“Rich.”
“Oh. Oui.” She disappeared again. “I saw his car. He likes the finer things.”
“But he doesn’t show off about it. If he did, I couldn’t stand it. The way he explains it, he got lucky with a property purchase, and it went from there.” He shrugged to himself. “He doesn’t look old enough for anything other than a lot of luck.”
“Maybe he’s secretly a very fit sixty-year-old.” She chuckled as she walked back into the room with a tray of breakfast. “Explains the hair.”
“I must ask him about that.” Bernie took a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee, then scooted over so Nadia could sit. “I hope it’s not something he’s sensitive about.”
“Why would he be?”
“The only time I’ve heard about people’s hair being white, it’s been in bad circumstances. Shock, or major accidents.”
Nadia nodded. “Perhaps he was just born like that?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe, though.”
They ate in silence, watching the news on the TV. Bernie’s mind was anything but quiet, though. Now that he’d talked about Snow’s hair, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. His phone buzzed shortly after, and he glanced down to find it was Snow. He grinned and answered.
“We were just talking about you.”
“I’m sure it was all complimentary,” Snow said.
“Most certainly. I should thank you, by the way, for seeing fit to get me two days off work, and not just one.”
It was a none-too-subtle hint that he wanted to see Snow today, but he doubted the man would mind. As expected, Snow chuckled and suggested they meet in a few hours at his place, explaining that he had something to talk to him about, but had a meeting first.
“Sounds ominous,” Bernie said, ignoring the pang of worry in his gut.
“It’s not,” Snow said, his voice as light as ever. “Well, probably not. Not to me, if that counts for anything.”
“It does. I’ll see you later.”
They hung up, and Bernie perched the phone on his knee, his lip between his teeth.
“What is it?” Nadia asked.
“Probably nothing.”
Probably.
Chapter Twelve
The waiting room of Roger Creek’s latest property purchase looked more like a dentist’s than the consultancy firm it had been before the alpha had bought it. White walls, white floor, matching walls, and an assortment of out-of-date magazines sat on a table in the middle of the chair-strewn room.
Snow sat in one of the chairs, legs stretched out in front of him while he flicked through a cookery magazine. Cooking wasn’t one of his skills, and he was starting to think it should be the next thing he learned. Some shifters tended to find themselves in a rut after the first couple of decades, but Snow wanted to use his extended time on Earth wisely.
The door opposite him opened quietly, and June stepped out. Her flaming-red hair was tied back in a braid, and she wore a muted-blue pantsuit. She grinned at Snow and came over, sitting beside him and slapping him on the thigh.
“I knew I smelled you,” she said. “How’s the latest boy toy?”
“Good. Very good, indeed. Thinking about having the talk tonight, if I can work up the nerve.”
He didn’t need to elaborate on what he meant. Every shifter knew what “the talk” meant, and every shifter had more than a few horror stories about the reactions of humans after they’d been told of the shifter’s true identity.
June raised an eyebrow. “So soon?”
“Yeah, so soon.” He smiled. “I don’t want to lie to him any more.”
“There’s a difference between lying and omitting to tell the whole story.”
Snow nodded his agreement. “But in this case, it’s starting to feel more like the former.”
June smiled and gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve all been there.”
“Snow?” Creek called from the office opposite.
Snow got to his feet and June joined him, then kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck with the talk.”
Snow returned the kiss and told her he’d call her afterwards, then headed in to the office.
Creek sat in a room that wasn’t that much wider than the desk he was behind. He glanced up at Snow as he entered, gesturing to the chair in front of him.
“Just making some notes on June’s findings,” he said. “Won’t be a moment.”
“Take your time.” Snow sat in the chair and looked around the room. “Get the place cheap, did you?”
Creek nodded without looking up. “In a decade or so it’ll be worth twice what I paid, if the planned updates to the area go through. If not, I’ll still make a profit.”
“Once you’ve renovated.”
Creek nodded. “The sooner I get rid of the stink of old drains and rotten floorboards, the happier we’ll all be. I hear you’re having the talk tonight?”
“In theory,” Snow said. “Been a while since I’ve had to.”
“Do I detect nerves from the almighty Snow?”
He grinned and shrugged. “No shame in it.”
“Of course not. Need any pointers?”
“Nah, I’ll manage.”
Creek returned the smile, then added another note to the file in front of him, before closing it and grabbing a fresh sheet of paper. “Right, let’s get started.”
With a breath, Snow composed himself and retold what he’d discovered last night when watching the warehouse meeting.
“People started arriving about ten minutes before the meeting. I counted thirty, and didn’t spot any other ent
rances. Twenty-five men, five women. All the women were witches.”
“All of them?” Creek raised an eyebrow. “The others weren’t sure.”
“I’m certain. After my last encounter with one, I find it easy to spot them.”
Creek nodded, his expression grim. “Go on.”
“Once everyone was there, they did a headcount, and were upset to find someone wasn’t there. I’m assuming that the missing member was the one I captured. They discussed their successful attacks, and then one of the witches threw up a spell. After that no sound came out of the place.”
Creek nodded. “That’s what the others reported.” He smiled. “Thankfully June is a lip reader.”
Snow laughed. “That woman never ceases to amaze me. Pity she’s not a guy.”
Creek returned the laugh, but it soon died. “They’re planning another meet tomorrow. Apparently their leader wishes to talk with them, but couldn’t make it last night. We have a time, a place, and we intend to ambush them and capture their leader.”
Snow nodded. “It’s our only choice. I know from experience that these people aren’t open to negotiation.”
“Will you be joining us? I warn you now, it’ll probably be a hell of a fight, and could well be a trap for all we know. I can’t guarantee anyone’s safety.”
“I’m in.”
He didn’t even need to consider it. His pack would die for him, and he’d do the same in return. He had no doubt the ambush would be hell, but if it stopped the attacks on other shifters, it was worth the risk.
“Good.” Creek finished noting down what Snow had said. “On the bright side, we’ll have a couple of warlocks with us. They can protect us from the majority of the witches’ spells, which should give us an advantage.”
Creek held out his hand, and Snow shook it, then stood. “I’ll be ready.”
Despite his confidence, he was nervous about the upcoming confrontation. Humans weren’t a real threat unless they were packing firearms, but a witch could be unarmed and blindfolded and still be a huge threat, even with the help of warlocks.