by Kit Tunstall
Zinsa leaned closer, licking her full lips. “Everything you want, too?”
Somehow, he managed to swallow. “Er, yes.”
A grin blossomed, displaying the perfection of her teeth. “Good. I know I’ll live here the rest of my life.” She placed her hand flat on his chest for a brief second, before lifting her palm and trailing her fingers down his buttons. “This could work.”
“What could?” His voice emerged as a rasp, affected as he was by nerves.
Her hand moved upward in a flash, and she tapped him lightly on the side of the nose with her forefinger. “Don’t be dense.”
Grant searched for a way to withdraw, to let her down easy, but discovered he didn’t want to. Even knowing he had to, didn’t help him resist when she tilted her chin up, cupped the back of his head to force his face down, and touched her lips against his.
The kiss was soft and undemanding, with Zinsa offering, not taking. He couldn’t withstand the dewy sweetness of her soft lips, the sweet tang of her musky femininity, or the cautious dart of her tongue across his mouth before it disappeared inside hers again. His hands settled on her shoulders of their own accord and he pulled her as close as he could without displacing both of them from the rock.
Desire swept through him, causing his pulse to pound in his ears. His heart raced, and his cock throbbed, straining to escape the prison of his khaki shorts. Grant curled his hands tighter around her shoulders, struggling to maintain control. She whimpered at the pressure and he immediately let go, trying to pull away. Zinsa’s hand on his head turned to a steel vise, trapping him, refusing to release him.
Her tongue pushed between his lips, changing from coaxing to demanding, letting him know she wanted everything. Grant’s stomach clenched with dread, knowing he couldn’t give it to her. He should break the kiss and leave her before things got out of control. Already he could feel the need rising, his control slipping, as her tongue stroked his, exploring the depths of his mouth.
The first drops of rain saved him from losing control completely. They fell from the sky like large teardrops, striking their faces and heads. With surprise, Grant jerked away, looking up just in time to see forked lightning split the sky. Within seconds, the rain became a deluge. He cursed. “It isn’t even the rainy season.”
Zinsa bounded to her feet, extending her arms. A delighted laugh escaped her. “I know. That makes it even better.”
He frowned. “You’re enjoying this?”
“I love the rain, and when it comes down like this…” She shivered, but apparently with delight, not cold.
Grant got to his feet, taking one of her extended hands. “Come on. We’re getting soaked.”
“A little rain never hurt anyone.”
She didn’t resist when he drew her forward at a rapid pace, his familiarity with the area guiding him more than his sight in the heavy rain. “This isn’t a little rain.”
“Spoilsport.” She had to yell the word to project over another crash of jagged lightning. Silence was more convenient as they broke into a jog, Grant cursing having come so far without thought.
It was a relief to see the clinic come into sight a few minutes later. He was so wet his clothes clung to him like a second skin and his sandals slid around on his feet. The leather was probably ruined, but that was the least of his worries at the moment.
He rushed up the stairs to open the door to the clinic, pausing to look back when he realized Zinsa wasn’t behind him. At the sight of her twirling around in a circle in the heavy rain, he shook his head. “Zinsa,” he shouted, getting her to look up. She flashed him a disgruntled look, but came out of the rain, walking up the steps to join him. “You’re crazy.”
She shook her head. “Just spontaneous.”
“Spontaneity can be dangerous,” he said in a brooding voice as he followed her into the clinic, locking the door behind them. They crept quietly past the area where the patients rested before she responded.
Zinsa gave him a half-shrug, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I suppose, but life would be pretty boring if you followed a rigid set of rules all the time.”
Making a noncommittal sound, he walked toward the back room, conscious of her just inches ahead, just within touching distance. His enhanced sense of smell clued him in to her excitement, making it doubly hard to resist the thoughts circulating in his brain.
In the bedroom, Grant stepped aside, gesturing toward the bathroom. “You first.” When he flicked on the lamp, her breasts drew his gaze, the nut-brown areoles and nickel-size nipples plainly visible through the cotton. He jerked his gaze away, a blush heating his cheeks.
With a laugh, Zinsa peeled off her tank top. It had become virtually transparent in the rain, but had provided a modicum of modesty. Free of the shirt, standing with her breasts bared, she paused in the process of unfastening her shorts. “Don’t just stand there, Grant. You need to get out of those wet clothes. By the time you wait for me to shower, you could get ill.”
The words were logical, but the heat in her eyes and purr in her tone left little doubt to her true motivation for trying to strip him. She wanted to finish what they had started before the storm came. It would be dangerous for him to give in to the attraction burning between them. He swallowed the lump in his throat, searching for a way to handle the situation diplomatically. Nothing came to mind, especially since his own body wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Zinsa continued stripping, kicking off her sandals before shedding her panties and shorts. When she stood naked before him, her hands found purchase on her hips, and she clicked her tongue. “You really need to get undressed.”
He closed his eyes, struggling to maintain control. The sharp tang of her arousal carried to his nose, the perfume making his rigid cock tighten to the point of pain. “Zinsa, I can’t—”
She didn’t allow him to finish. Zinsa took a step forward, placing her finger against his mouth. “Then let me.”
When her fingers began deftly working at the buttons of his sodden shirt, Grant tried to stop her, but his body wouldn’t cooperate, except to relax under her palms when she smoothed them down his chest after opening the garment. The rain on their skin provided a liquid medium for her caresses, making it feel like silk gliding over his chest.
Her hands froze when she encountered the mass of scars on his side. “What happened?”
He examined her expression, searching for a hint of repulsion, but finding only curiosity and perhaps sympathy. “I was mauled by a tiger as a child.”
Zinsa traced one of the white ridges, a ropy, meandering line bisecting his tanned skin. “It must have been a terrible attack if the scars are still this prominent. How did you ever survive?”
A lump in his throat forced him to cough before he could answer. “A miracle, I guess.”
“Thank goodness for miracles.”
His breath hissed between his clenched teeth when Zinsa scraped one of his nipples lightly with her fingernail. A sound of pleasure escaped him, and he abandoned any thought of resisting when her hands moved lower to unbuckle his belt. She removed it slowly, pulling an inch at a time, while deliberately brushing her hands repeatedly against his body as she did so.
A sigh of relief left him when she dropped the belt on the floor, but he drew in another deep breath when her hands moved to the button and zipper, opening them efficiently to let her hands inside. “Zinsa.” He clenched his fists, struggling to control his breathing. His senses were hypersensitive, and the beast inside was stirring to life. He brought up a hand to push her away but somehow ended up cupping her breast instead. Her nipples were firm under his fingers, and her moans moved his passion up another notch. She withdrew, and he wanted to protest but couldn’t manage to both speak and keep the creature in check.
“Lift your feet.”
His mind was hazy, taking a moment to process her request. When he looked down, he saw her kneeling before him, impatiently awaiting his help with shedding the rest of his clothes. He lifted each foot in tur
n, and then took a moment to kick off his sandals before reaching out to stroke her hair. The rain had caused the ultra-short cut to kink, and a mass of tight curls met his fingers.
Uncertain of how he could maintain control, Grant nonetheless surrendered to her stroking of his cock. He groaned with anticipation as Zinsa’s head moved forward, her intent clear. The first bold rasp of her tongue against his cock caused his body to jerk in reaction. He tightened his fingers in her hair, barely holding back from hurting her. It wasn’t an urge to harm her he experienced, but rather the need to dominate. Knowing how he could injure her during the process kept the impulse in check.
She wasn’t shy about tasting him. In seconds, his cock was in her mouth, the heat and moisture making him spasm. When she suckled him while cupping his testicles in one hand, his hips bucked, inadvertently forcing more of his cock inside her throat. He froze, looking down to check on her. She didn’t seem bothered, and her suction didn’t change. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back as pleasure swept through him.
Zinsa’s nails dug lightly into the tender flesh of his sac as her teeth scraped his cock. The hint of pain heightened his pleasure, even as it pushed him closer to the brink of transformation. In his head, he tried to remember the anatomy of an elephant, but the thoughts couldn’t distract him sufficiently from her ministrations.
Her tongue swirled the length of him, working his cock like an ice cream cone. Grant’s cock spasmed when she traced his corona with her tongue, pausing to flick the V of nerves at the tip. When she sucked that section lightly, his cock convulsed, and hot semen poured from him without even a chance to warn her.
She withdrew, discreetly wiping her mouth before smiling up at him. Kneeling before him, she seemed to be submitting. Amazingly, his cock hardened again, and he had to fight the urge to drop down on the floor beside her, turn her on her stomach, and pound into her.
The animal inside was churning to the surface. A fine growth of hair was sprouting all over his body, and his fingernails were visibly lengthening. In a panic, he stepped away from her, turning his face. “Towels,” he said in a thick voice.
“What?” Her confusion was clear from her tone.
“Wet…towels.” With no time for further explanation, Grant ran from the room, not pausing for towels or anything else. Only the curtain Zinsa had rigged from bed sheets to provide the patients with a measure of privacy shielded them from the shocking sight of him rushing out, bare-ass naked.
Once outside, he continued to run until well out of sight of the clinic. The chilly rain did little to cool his heated flesh and didn’t do a thing to bank the fire of transformation raging inside. He dropped to all fours, and when he screamed at the pain of changing, the roar of a tiger left his mouth. Grant tried to fight it, but as always, eventually lost the struggle to preserve his humanity.
Chapter Three
Although he couldn’t be certain, Grant thought about an hour had passed since the time he transformed. When he came to, he had returned to his human form, finding himself just a few yards from where he had changed. He must have run during that time, had probably hunted even, but had no memory of anything he had done. That indicated he had fully lost control, which was rare for him. For years, he had retained at least a shred of himself on the occasions when transformation became irresistible.
By some instinct, he had made his way back to his starting place. It would make his return to the clinic easier, since he knew precisely where he was. Not that he was anxious to get back. The thought of facing Zinsa after what he had done made his stomach churn with nausea. What was she thinking? No doubt she thought he was a selfish pig, taking pleasure without reciprocating.
Knowing it would do no good to prolong avoiding her, Grant broke into a jog, relieved to find the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Several times, sharp grass or twigs poked his feet, but he kept going, having no choice. It would be too humiliating to wait for rescue in the morning. How could he ever explain being fully nude, sans shoes, two miles from the complex?
With a grimace, he acknowledged it might be easier to explain that than to face Zinsa and try to elucidate why he had run away. Certainly it would be easier to traverse the whole country in his birthday suit than do what he had to in a few minutes. Maybe she would be asleep. He clung to the hope, although he recognized it as cowardly. Eventually he would have to offer some explanation. Might as well get it over with.
Zinsa sat on the cot, hugging her knees to her chest. Anger and confusion had kept her from trying to find sleep. Her stomach burned and the gritty feeling in her eyes, from suppressing tears, had her constantly blinking.
What had happened? Why had Grant torn out of the room like that? Had he not enjoyed the blowjob? Was he ill? Was he just a self-centered jerk? His actions supported that supposition, but it didn’t feel right. There was something more to it, and she was determined to find out what.
As she saw Grant coming down the hall, moving with silent grace, she took a deep breath to prepare herself. Thoughts of confronting him nearly abandoned her when he stepped into the room, the sixty-watt bare bulb giving his body a golden sheen. Her mouth watered anew at the sight of him, as her pussy clenched with need. It took much self-discipline to hide her reaction behind a cool expression. “Grant.”
He couldn’t seem to meet her gaze. First, his eyes danced around the room, finally settling on her neck. Grant’s fidgeting betrayed his nervousness, the way he shifted his feet and constantly ran his fingers through his damp hair.
When he didn’t seem inclined to speak, she pressed on. “What happened?”
“I…” He trailed off, clearly at a loss. A loud sigh escaped him before he strode to his bed, sitting on the foot. “I don’t know. I panicked, I guess.”
A frown furrowed her brow. “Panicked? Why?” Eyes wide, she asked in a whisper, “You aren’t a virgin, are you?”
A small laugh escaped him. “No, not quite.” Finally, he seemed to find the strength to meet her eyes. “You made me panic, Zinsa.”
“Why?”
“The way I reacted to you. I’m not used to that. You make me feel things…lose control.”
A surge of happiness swept through her at the admission. She had been the reason he ran away, but not because of something dire. His own emotions overwhelmed him, provoked by his reactions to her. She struggled to suppress a grin. “That’s a bad thing?”
His serious expression killed any hint of amusement. “Yes.” Without elaborating, his body language made it clear losing control terrified him.
“I see.” She tilted her head, thinking. Her body still burned for Grant, despite the turmoil of the last couple of hours. She wanted him, needed him in a way she hadn’t with any other man. “What can I do?”
“Stay away from me.” The words were delivered in an uncertain tone, contradicting the request.
Bolstered by the conflict in his eyes, Zinsa rose from the cot to walk over to his bed. Grant didn’t withdraw when she stood before him, reaching out to cup his cheek with her palm. She knelt slightly to look into his eyes. “I can’t do that. I need you, Grant.” He drew in a breath when she trailed her fingers across his chest. “You need me too. Someone has to help you loosen up.” She grinned at him to show she was teasing, as her hand drifted down his stomach to brush lightly against his cock. “Or maybe just to get you hard.”
“Zinsa.” The way he said her name sounded like he was being tortured. If his desire was as urgent as hers, he probably was. At least he’d found release earlier.
She grasped the length of his shaft. “Do you still want me to leave you alone?” While asking, she put a knee on the bed, by his thigh. “Should I stop?” The pressure she applied made his cock spasm in her hand.
“Never.”
At his surrender, Zinsa put her other knee on the bed to straddle his lap. After he left her, she had dried off and put on a T-shirt, but she discarded it quickly, returning her hand to his erection in a matter of seconds. The
thick length made her yearn to have it in her pussy, and it took an act of will to keep from guiding him inside, eliminating the few inches separating them.
She groaned with the frustration of holding off, knowing completion would be that much more satisfying if she prolonged the process leading up to it. Grant must have been of a similar mind, because his hand slipped between their bodies to take hers from his cock, instead placing it on his chest.
Leaning closer, Zinsa rested her cheek against his chest, breathing in his scent. He smelled of rain and wild things. It was exotic, and she responded instinctively. A sound like a purr escaped her when he cupped her breast, rolling the turgid nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It was a delicious sensation, but not so much because of the physical pleasure. Rather, it was being so close to him, hearing his ragged breath as he touched her. They were so close to being one, if only for a short time.
She tangled a hand in his wet hair to force his head down the required inches to meet hers. His mouth was open and his tongue met hers, pushing it back to investigate her mouth. A hint of metallic flavor sharpened his taste, making her draw back for just a second. Seeing his uncertainty, she leaned forward again, capturing his mouth, determined not to give him time for second thoughts. If she didn’t come soon, she was going to explode, and only Grant could give her true fulfillment.
Pressed against him, his skin seemed to get hotter by the moment. Or maybe it came from her, as her need rose to a fever pitch. She couldn’t distinguish the source. Perhaps they both generated the fire consuming them. That would be appropriate.
Her thoughts turned hazy when Grant lay back on the bed, pulling her on top of him. With seemingly little effort, he grasped her around the waist and lifted her higher, bringing her breasts to his mouth. For a second, he nuzzled the sensitive skin between her breasts, but soon his tongue was on a quest for a ripe nipple, taking a leisurely route around her breast, pausing to trace the outline of her areola.
Zinsa tossed back her head and arched her back, trying to force her nipple against his lips. A chuckle issued from him before he accepted the invitation, first flicking his tongue across the tip before drawing the bead into his mouth to suck lightly. The contact was like lightning striking, searing her whole body as the sensation radiated from the point of contact. The suction he initiated seemed to draw every nerve in her body to her breast. He flicked his tongue across the tip again, swirling the hardened peak and making her gasp. She arched her hips, seeking relief by rubbing her heated flesh against his stomach. It was a poor substitute for his cock, with the light dusting of hair serving only to inflame her even more.