by Zoe Chant
“Yes,” she said.
His eyes lit. “Yes?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, and found herself caught up in a fiery kiss. Ken’s arms tightened around her, pulling her close, and Lynn panted into his mouth.
His hands lost no time in slipping under her shirt again, and Lynn had to tug herself away, laughing, to say, “That isn’t going to work, let me do it.”
Ken simply nodded, his eyes fixed on her face. Lynn felt her laughter fade away as she remembered what he’d said about how beautiful she was, laughing.
Their eyes locked for a long minute, and then Lynn busied herself with unbuttoning her shirt and tugging it off, followed by her sports bra—which involved some ungainly contorting.
Those few minutes reminded her that she was displaying her body to a man for the first time in...years. Literally years. Her movements slowed. She snuck a glance at Ken, to see if he was reacting at all to the extra pounds she carried around her middle, the signs of age. Her skin wasn’t as taut as it had been once, her breasts weren’t as firm, and her weight—
Well, she mostly didn’t care about her weight, because she was fit enough to hike miles and miles through the Glacier forests every day, so what did it matter? But she’d always been stocky, and now that she was over forty, she’d settled into...thick. It wasn’t the most attractive body type to men, she knew.
And yeesh, when was the last time she’d shaved her legs?
She felt herself blushing again, and this time it wasn’t because she felt flattered. She was holding her shirt in front of her torso, she realized, and in a minute she was going to have to let it go, or it would look odd, and Ken would see—
Ken reached out and put his hand over hers. “Lynn.” His voice was soft. “What's wrong?”
Lynn shook her head. “Nothing.” This was silly. She steeled herself to set the shirt aside and let him see her, wrinkles and all. There was no reason it should be this hard.
“Lynn, I think you're beautiful,” Ken said. Lynn glanced up, and he was watching her. As she met his eyes, his gaze deliberately flickered down, tracing the curves of her breasts and the parts of her stomach that were visible around the shirt. “Not just your face. Your body is gorgeous.”
Lynn couldn't help it: she snorted.
“You don't believe me?” Ken raised his eyebrows. “I think I'm hurt.”
“Look,” Lynn said, “you don't have to flatter me. I know what I look like. I'm not a teenager. I'm a forty-five-year-old woman, I've had plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that I'm not some willowy model.”
“I've never been that into skinny women,” Ken said thoughtfully. “There's something about curves...you know, when I first saw you in Cal's office, well. I told you that you caught my attention like no woman ever has. And part of that was your face—” He reached out and traced a finger down her cheek. It strayed over to linger on her top lip, then the bottom one. He ended by cupping her chin.
The touch made her shiver, but even more than that, the look in his eyes. There was no question that he thought she was beautiful. She could see it, that appreciation, all over his face.
“But,” he continued, “part of that was your body. You were just wearing jeans and hiking boots and a loose shirt—I could tell you weren't trying to show it off, that you hadn't dressed to look sexy. But there was no way you could hide those curves. And I wanted to get you out of those clothes right there, and see all of that gorgeous body.”
His hand moved from her chin to her shoulder. Warm fingers traced her collarbone, then down her chest until they hit the bunched cloth of the shirt she was holding. “I'd love it,” he said, his voice dropping what seemed like a full octave, “if I could see it now.”
Almost without her brain's input, her finger relaxed, her arms fell, and then suddenly the shirt wasn't shielding her any longer, and Ken could see her naked torso in all its glory.
And his eyes turned hot. Lynn could see it. He'd been telling the truth; he really did think her body was sexy.
His hand curved down around her breast, his other hand coming up too, and he leaned forward and kissed her as he spread both hands over them. Lynn sighed into his mouth. His hands were big enough to cup each one fully—unusual, because Lynn had always been irritatingly well-endowed—and the feeling of his rough, warm callouses against her most sensitive skin was making her eyes roll back in her head.
His hands were gentle, but clever. Lynn had usually found that whenever men wanted to pay a lot of attention to her breasts, she was mostly on the side of telling them to quit being so rough, and waiting patiently until they got their fill and were willing to move on to more interesting territory. But this wasn’t like that.
This was a delicate building of sensation, a slow tingle that started in each nipple, making them harden. With Ken’s careful attention, the tingle built into a swell of arousal, until each touch seemed to have a line straight down her belly into her panties. Lynn gasped into his mouth as he caught one nipple between his fingers and rubbed, slowly but firmly, until she was twisting her hips, rubbing her damp thighs together to catch the sensations between her legs.
“Oh,” Lynn gasped, too caught up in the feelings he was awakening in her body to be self-conscious about how she sounded. “Oh.”
But Ken smiled against her mouth, and murmured, “You feel fantastic, but you sound even better.”
And then he was pushing her backwards, catching up her shirt to spread it quickly out on the forest floor behind her, to give her a soft place to lie down. Lynn meant to tell him that she'd been out in these forests all her life, and besides, she was a shifter, and so didn't need any protection for her delicate skin or any nonsense like that. But the words were lost when he bent down over her and put his mouth where his hands had been.
“Oh, God,” Lynn heard herself say, as he tongued her nipple. When he started sucking softly at it, she made a strangled noise that might have been a swear word when it first started.
Her underwear was probably soaked through by now. Her clit was pulsing in time with his mouth, and her head fell back to thunk on the ground as she panted for air. It felt so good. Why hadn't anything ever felt this good before?
And she hadn't even gotten her pants off yet.
Which made her wonder what it would be like when she did get her pants off, which made her clit pulse harder. She was going to have to figure out how to speak in coherent words again fast, because she suddenly needed to be naked, needed to feel his hands, his tongue, against her throbbing clit.
And inside her, where everything was hot and aching with need.
“Mmm,” Ken murmured, and the vibration from his voice against her breast made Lynn gasp. “I could do this all day.”
That gave her the motivation to find her voice. “I will murder you if you don't get going soon.”
He lifted his head, which made Lynn stifle a protesting noise. The forest air was cool on her damp skin. “Get going how?” His eyes were limpid, innocent.
“They'll never find the body,” Lynn informed him. “I know these woods like the back of my hand.” She was trying to sound threatening, but laughter was trying to break through. She’d never laughed like this with a man before.
His eyebrows lifted. “That's disturbingly believable. I guess I'd better do as I'm told.” But a smile was teasing the corners of his mouth.
It didn’t matter how much they joked, though, because he was reaching for the button of her jeans. Lynn lifted her hips impatiently as he tugged the zipper down, and cursed her own curves as he worked them down her hips, catching her underwear on the way.
He had to stop and undo her bootlaces before he could get her pants completely off. He laughed at himself the whole time, and Lynn, even though she was caught in an agony of desire, was struck by it. A man who could laugh at himself in a moment of awkwardness or embarrassment, instead of getting angrily defensive, or pretending nothing had happened—
That was a man to hang onto, maybe.<
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Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, she was naked. Her body exposed to the forest, even more so than she was used to. She could feel a breeze between her legs, and blushed. She felt—wanton was such an old-fashioned word, but it seemed like the only one that fit.
Ken was looking down at her. He was still fully-dressed, Lynn realized, which seemed unfair somehow. But before she had time to insist that he take off some of his clothes and give her a show, he’d bent down again and kissed her right between her breasts.
She gasped, and he pressed another kiss just below the first. And then another, lower. And then another.
Lynn shivered as she realized where this was going, her legs falling apart to accommodate his bulk. He gripped her thighs in his strong hands, pushing them apart as he looked his fill.
Just his eyes between her legs felt like he was caressing her there. Like his gaze was a physical touch, like she could feel it pressing against her clit, lingering around her wet entrance. Lynn felt the opening to her body twitch and contract, and Ken’s lips parted as he watched.
She gathered all of the tiny scraps of composure she still possessed, lifted her head to look at him, and said, “Well?”
This laugh was a sharp burst, as if she’d surprised it out of him. Lynn felt a little thrill of satisfaction—he’d been wanting to make her laugh since she met, but so far it looked like she was having more success at it.
But then it was her turn to be surprised, because before the laughter had faded away, Ken ducked his head and pressed his mouth right between her legs.
The sound Lynn made was loud enough to echo through the trees. Oh God, oh God, the feel of his tongue against her clit...! Pressing firm and wet along it, licking up, and then how he sucked at the very tip, sending pleasure bursting through her body.
Then she felt his fingers, teasing at her entrance. He traced around it, slow and soft, over and over and over, while his tongue played games on her clit. Fast, slow, up, down—Lynn thought she might scream, but she wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or frustration at the way he kept her dancing on the edge.
Then, finally, finally, he settled into a hard, fast rhythm, licking close and firm. His tongue caught up all the little fiery bits of pleasure he’d been evoking, found them and corralled them all together, until she could feel it snowballing, building like an avalanche.
And then it crested, and peaked, and she came. She gasped for breath, her head back and her mouth open as her inner muscles locked in wracking pleasure. Her hands clenched in the pine needles, and Ken had to hold her hips still, or she would have thrashed her way off of his mouth.
Which would’ve defeated his purpose, she realized after a long moment. Because while spots were still hovering in front of her eyes, her body wringing itself out against his tongue, he was starting again.
He chased the aftershocks like he’d chased the beginnings of pleasure before. He kept his tongue soft and slow, careful not to overstimulate. Once in a while, he hit an oversensitive spot and Lynn’s hips twitched away, and every time he pulled back immediately, waited a second, and tried somewhere else.
And it was working.
Lynn had never come twice in a row before, at least not without a long rest. But she knew her body, and she was ramping up for a second round.
As desire really started to build again, she was aware that as sensitive as her clit was, there was still one area of her body that hadn’t gotten any attention at all. She caught her breath, and reached down to thread her fingers through Ken’s hair.
She hadn’t touched it yet, she realized, and she was arrested for a moment, distracted from her purpose by how soft it was.
Ken made a pleased sound as her hand curved over his scalp, and Lynn made a mental note to explore that later. For now, though...she tugged gently.
His head came up immediately. “Too much?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not enough,” she said.
Ken’s smile was wicked. “Oh, really?”
He was still wearing all of his clothes. “I want to see you,” fell out of her mouth.
He raised his eyebrows, looked down at himself.
Lynn’s voice sharpened—it was funny, she never had any trouble being commanding, but she hadn’t ever quite managed it in this context before. “Naked.”
The grin broke out on his face once more. “As my lady commands.” He stood up, and in one powerful motion, pulled his shirt off over his head. Then he tugged off each of his boots—order of operations figured out by now, Lynn noted wryly—unbuttoned his pants, and slid them down. His underwear (boxers? briefs? She only saw a waistband, and couldn't tell) got pulled along with them, and he stepped out of them, leaving him suddenly and gloriously naked.
He raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
Lynn had to take a moment just to look at him.
He was heavily muscled, with powerful arms, a thick core, and legs like tree trunks. Most shifters had a natural layer of muscle in their human forms, but this went above and beyond. Lynn wondered when he found the time to work out—or perhaps an environmental scientist position required more heavy lifting than she'd realized.
There was more gray in his body hair than on his head, adding a silvery sheen to the amber curls on his chest, his legs, and...between them.
He was very well-endowed. Lynn's eyes caught on his generous erection, moved away, and then returned, helplessly. The ache between her own legs intensified as she imagined that inside of her.
But she wanted one more moment to look her fill. In fact, it was hard to look away, because the sun was now fully risen, sending early-morning rays over the mountains, and Ken's body was illuminated in the new sunlight. It lit his hair into an amber fire, and threw his muscles into a play of light and shadow that made Lynn think of famous paintings.
“I wish I could take a picture of you right now,” she murmured.
“Of me?” Ken asked. “You should see yourself, draped naked over the moss like some Renaissance goddess. Venus or Artemis or someone.”
His words were so close to what Lynn had been thinking that it felt uncanny, like their thoughts were in sync. Lynn studied him for a moment longer, feeling a frown between her eyebrows.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.” They were both naked in the middle of the forest at dawn; it probably wasn't weird at all that their thoughts had both gone to old paintings.
“Seen enough?” His eyebrows quirked again.
“Not even close,” Lynn told him. “But come here.”
Instantly, he was back on his knees, leaning over her to drop a kiss on her lips. “Your kisses taste so good,” he murmured.
“Coffee and toothpaste?” she asked disbelievingly.
He shook his head, smiling. “Wildness and strength.”
Before Lynn could point out that neither of those things had a taste, he'd kissed her again, and she abandoned any need for argument. This kiss went on and on, each momentary pause just blending into the next meeting of mouths, hot and perfect.
Lynn could feel that ache starting up again. She shifted her hips underneath him, spreading her legs until he fit perfectly between. He groaned as his erection brushed her inner thigh.
“Lynn,” he said in a low voice. “I need you.” He pushed his hips forward a little, making his meaning clear. She could feel the head of his cock gently kissing her outside folds, up against her pubic hair. The tiny touch was maddening.
“Now,” she said to him. “Ken, now.”
He got a hand underneath her, tilting her hips up, cupping her hip as he pressed forward. Lynn felt herself already spasming in pleasure as his cock touched her entrance, and then he was pushing inside.
If she'd thought about it, she might have expected it to hurt. She'd never been with a man this big before. But it didn't. Coming once already had made her wet, open and slick and ready for him, and he slid right in without any resistance at all.
And it felt so—right.
Even beyond that, there was something else. Like the moment they'd joined together, something that had been wrong with the universe had clicked together, and become right. Lynn felt a sudden flood of well-being, a spark of joy that she’d never known was missing from her heart until now.
And then he moved, and all of her thoughts fled in a surge of pleasure so powerful, she couldn’t do anything but moan.
Ken kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, and her neck, as though he couldn’t help himself. The kisses were smudged and damp, and his breath washed warm and fast over her skin as he panted, thrusting hard. Lynn shuddered and gasped, clenching around his cock, wanting nothing more than for this moment to last forever. She’d never been filled like this before. She’d never felt so wrung out with pleasure, so shattered by it.
And Ken seemed as overwhelmed as she was. He kissed her hard, groaning, as his thrusts became wilder, faster. One hand gripped her hip so hard it might’ve hurt if she’d been human, but as it was, it was just another sensation adding to the whirlwind inside her.
Lynn’s head tilted back, breaking the kiss as pleasure ripped through her. Orgasm stole her breath and obliterated her thoughts. She couldn’t tell if she made noise, she couldn’t see through the darkness in her vision, and she couldn’t feel anything but Ken.
She could hear, faintly, Ken’s own roar of pleasure, and she knew that he was climaxing too. Could almost feel it herself, echoing through her own pleasure. Together, they shuddered and clutched at each other, breathing each other’s air and almost vibrating with the aftershocks of orgasm.
Slowly, slowly, Lynn came back to herself. Her breath evened out, her heartrate slowed, and she relaxed back into the soft earth, feeling the weight of Ken on top of her. His face was pressed against her neck, and she reached up to card her fingers through his sweat-damp hair.