Shifters Desire 1: Vampire Fangs & Venom

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Shifters Desire 1: Vampire Fangs & Venom Page 10

by Myra Nour


  “But I mind.” By God, he had no idea how much she minded every time she was sucked into the snakewoman’s world.

  “You’re the one who’s been complaining about not getting all your rights. Here’s your chance—you’ll be fulfilling a career position no other woman in this century can claim.”

  “Save your sarcasm and boyish charm. I’ll do it,” she fumed, “because I want a change of clothing too.” She tugged at the skirt of the dress; a ripping sound erupted. “Uh oh.” She sighed and plucked at the tear. That was the final straw. She had to have a new change of clothing.

  Briana abruptly remembered her simmering vegetables and ran to the brazier. They were fine and smelled pretty good too. Raynor grabbed two of the goblets and then speared the vegetables with his knife. He handed her a goblet, but she set it aside regretfully, letting it cool first. Smiling, he did the same, although he could have used the knife as a makeshift utensil.

  “Plates and utensils are officially added to my next shopping trip.”

  “I don’t think they used utensils, just their fingers.”

  “Then, I’ll bring you back a knife.” After a while, he picked up the goblet and dipped his fingers in, retrieving a cooked carrot. Plopping it into his mouth, he gave an exaggerated “yummy” sound.

  Following his lead, she fingered out a carrot as well. A pleased expression came over her; it was scrumptious. Silence reigned as they ate hurriedly from the goblets. Of course he’d forgotten to buy salt, but the fresh vegetables were delicious anyway.

  * * * * *

  The next day they found the stream close to the castle ruins, as he’d promised. It was a nice-sized one, about five feet across, and they discovered beavers had dammed one end, forming a pool. For some reason, Raynor didn’t change into his new clothing and then turned to unlace her dress.

  “Your chemise should do fine until you get your clothes washed.”

  He was right; the chemise was not made like the modern ones she was familiar with, it was short-sleeved, but more like a slip, reaching to her ankles. Shivering violently, she knew she’d just have to make do. Taking the bundle of clothes to the pool, she bit her lower lip and she stared at the material, not sure where to begin.

  “Here, you’ll need this.” He handed her the soap. “I’ve seen TV programs where primitive people washed their clothes by beating them against rocks.”

  “I’m not going to beat a silk dress against rocks!”

  Sorting through the clothes, she started with the thicker overdress, not sure just how much scrubbing she should do on any one piece. But, washing the less delicate pieces first, should give her a pretty good idea.

  The process went much better than she’d have guessed; the homemade soap rid the material of all dirty spots and left them smelling clean.

  Raynor helped her drape her things carefully over bushes. Luckily, he’d made a fire before they started. Thoroughly chilled by the time she finished scrubbing the clothes, she sat next to the campfire, wrapping the cloak around her. Wearing only a thin shirt was no defense against the chilly day, but it would have been difficult to bend over and launder with the cloak on to protect her.

  Watching Raynor wash his clothes was interesting; he was very meticulous. His new purchases had included a new, better fitting tunic, but he’d not brought back a new undershirt. Ignoring the cold, he stripped his upper body and washed the male equivalent of a chemise, made like a shirt with short sleeves. His muscular chest was very nice, the ridged abs making his torso even more fascinating. The light trail of black hair across his chest didn’t detract from his physique, and the sparse growth starting above his belly button and growing downward into his clothes drew her eyes to his groin. Unfortunately, he’d wrapped the new tunic around his waist as a cover and she was curious.

  “Why the tunic cover?” she asked. “Afraid to show me your buns?” She couldn’t keep a giggle from escaping.

  “Nope.” He grinned at her. “Afraid the shock would be too much for you.” He waved a hand at the leggings. “These things are made…crotchless.”

  “Oh,” she blushed, mostly due to the sudden erotic image that conjured up. Of course she’d not had as much opportunity as she wished to get a good look at Raynor’s cock here in merry ol’ England, since his clothes were ill-fitting and loose. And her memories while transformed into the snakewoman were fuzzy at best. From the one time she’d managed to make love to him in human form, she did remember its dark pink color, large size, and steely hardness. But she wanted to examine it in detail and know its individual curves, taste his unique flavor.

  Flushing with heat, she recalled the large organ that had made itself known once Raynor had metamorphosed into the wolfman. It had been impressive. She idly watched him hang his clothes to dry, wishing she could see beneath the tunic around his waist, like some teenage girl desiring to get her first look at a man’s “thing”. Briana giggled at her own silliness.

  Thankfully, he didn’t hear her, but continued with his laundry chore. He was circumcised at least, something she cared more about than actual size. Of course she had nothing to worry about in that department; Raynor had a nice-sized penis.

  “Jeez, it’s cold.” Shivering, he rushed to the fire after he finished.

  “I’m sorry.” She came out of her sexual musings. “I should have helped you hang your clothes to dry.”

  “You seemed distracted.” His voice was deep, his tone purposely sexy.

  She realized he’d guessed her wayward thoughts by the mischievous look in his amber eyes and she blushed furiously.

  “We could, uh, work on our bonding, if we weren’t exposed here.” Raynor lowered his voice even further. Maybe he was hinting that they could make love once they returned to the tower. Clearly, it was too dangerous here, so she knew he wasn’t serious with his words, just suggestive.

  Nodding absently, she silently cursed her inability to stay human. How she’d love to get her hands on him right this minute and run them all over that delicious body of his! A chill hit her. For a moment she was alarmed, but then realized it was simply the cold getting to her, perhaps the only thing standing between her and shifting. Raynor had certainly done his part, albeit innocently, in getting her senses stirred up.

  They spent the afternoon snacking on the food from the pack, chatting, and turning the clothes so they’d dry faster. The clouds were heavy and the sun barely peeked out every once in a while, so the process of drying took a while. If it were not for the fact the bushes were ringed around the fire, she doubted they would have dried that day at all.

  Eying the swiftly running stream, she asked, “Do you think we should bathe while we’re here?”

  “Water’s too cold.” He chuckled. “Besides, we really don’t need a bath.”

  “Huh?”

  “Remember what I told you about less ‘waste disposal’?”

  She threw her eyes skyward in response to his silly remark. “And the better mouth breath.” She added.

  “Exactly. Smell your underarm, you’ll see what I mean.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” She made a moue of disgust, and then sniffed her arm anyway. It smelled fresh.

  He ran a hand through his long locks. “Your hair won’t feel dirty either.” He paused when his hand became hung up in a tangle. “Although a brush will have to be added to my shopping list.”

  Running a hand through her short hair, Briana realized he was right. Her hair felt clean and it didn’t itch either. But her leg hairs were scratchy. “I wish you could add a razor to that list.”

  Grinning, he said, “Don’t I know it.” He added, “Still, a hot shower would be great.”

  Making a sucking sound with her mouth, she said, “I know our breath is sweet because of the shifting, but my mouth feels yucky. I miss brushing.” Of course crunching on apples did help, but it wasn’t enough tooth cleaning action to replace her toothbrush.

  “Hmmm, I’ll see what I can do. I don’t think these folks were t
o up on dental hygiene.”

  “You know, there’s something I’ve been wondering about,” she interrupted a quiet spell. “This time jumping, does it ever interfere with human history?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Raynor gave her a serious look. “It can, that’s why we are trained before we leap. Taught to avoid shifting in front of humans, if at all possible, and to shun them until we get control over whatever type of shapeshifter we change into in the past.”

  “But…what if a shifter kills a human?” She knew his thoughts went to the vampires, just as hers had.

  “If it is a shifter from that time period, for example if those vampires are from the medieval era, it makes little difference.”

  “Makes little difference!”

  He smiled at her gently, “What I mean, if a human’s death is fated, it will happen, no matter the source. So, if one is killed by a shifter, it makes no difference in the historical perspective. The elders can sense if there’s a ‘ripple’ in the time fabric, an indication that a human was murdered by a shifter, when such was not fated to be. That’s what I meant by usually making little difference.”

  “That sounds so cold.”

  “It’s not as cold as you might think.” He paused, “One of our most sacred teachings is not to harm humanity. We are more powerful than they. We could rule this planet if we wished, but that is not our way. We only wish to ‘live in peace’ as the old saying goes, study humans and their history.”

  Smiling tentatively, she asked, “What about jumpers, like us?”

  Throwing a branch into the fire, he said, “That’s another story. As I said, we have to be very careful, or we could change human history.”

  “What about horrible creatures, like those vampires? Isn’t anything done about beasts like that?”

  “As a matter of fact—”

  “Ho,” a familiar voice interrupted him. They turned and watched Robert’s spry figure run toward them.

  “What do you do here, Robert?”

  “Thought I’d try my luck at fishing and saw the fire.” His glance took in the clothes lying across various bushes. “I see it’s wash day.”

  Raynor jumped up and ran his hands over her clothes, then gathered them and handed them to her. The boy had not noticed her undressed state since she had the cloak pulled about her. But once Raynor handed her the clothes, his eyes went to her bare ankles showing beneath the velvet and he blushed a dark pink.

  Wiggling an eyebrow at her roguishly, Raynor clapped the boy on the shoulder and led him away while she re-dressed. She watched his broad back, admiring the way the cloth stretched across its width. Smoothing the front of the dress down, she idly wished they were alone, somewhere private. Then, she’d boldly slip it down; let the bodice hang on her breasts. She’d watch the heat swirl in his eyes as he took in her half-dressed state.

  “Daydreaming?” His deep voice cut through her musings. Her response was a blush. She turned towards the wood so he wouldn’t see it. Coming up behind her, he laced her dress unobtrusively while the boy stirred the fire and threw on a few branches. She pictured his hands slipping beneath the material instead of lacing it. His hands sliding around, kneading her breasts, while the movement of the silk caressed her nipples into hard points.

  A branch popped loudly, shaking her from her reverie. She realized Raynor’s observant eyes were glued to her face.

  Turning to Robert, she asked, “We were going to eat some bread. Want a piece?” She offered the child a large chunk even while she asked. He accepted with a pleased smile.

  “Are you a princess?” Robert asked out of the blue.

  “Whatever made you ask that?” She laughed. “I hardly look like one.”

  The boy stared at her shyly. “You’re pretty enough…it’s just that you seem special.”

  Raynor and she stared at the boy in surprise. Did he have some kind of psychic powers? Could he sense her “specialness”?

  His reference to a princess reminded her of her friend Eddie’s favorite story. Many times, they’d sat on her front porch while they took turns reading from the worn fairy tale book.

  “I’m really not, but would you like to hear a story about a princess who didn’t appear to be a princess either?”

  “Oh, yes please!” He clapped his hands in excitement.

  Briana spent some few minutes telling him the story of Sleeping Beauty, embellishing it as much as her imagination could, especially the fight scenes, which she saw he enjoyed thoroughly.

  After she finished, he jumped up and ran to the stream, but returned quickly. In his hand he held a bunch of daisies, which he shoved toward her.

  “Thank you for the story.”

  Not to be outdone, Raynor recounted a tale of Robin and his men.

  Standing up after his tale was complete, she remarked, “I’d better go start dinner.”

  “Do you mind going back alone?” He added, “Robert and I are going to try our hand at fishing.”

  Nodding, she watched a few minutes before leaving, pleased at the boy and man getting along in such a friendly way. Raynor had a kind heart, she saw, and seemed to like children as well.

  Robert was tickled with the fishing items Raynor displayed. Apparently, he had no tackle and she wasn’t sure how he had planned on catching fish. Unless he was going to simply plunge into the icy water and try it by hand. The boy was shocked when Raynor attached the line to a sturdy pole and showed him how it worked. He didn’t seem to know about pole-fishing, which she found very interesting. Robert would have a new skill to share with his fellow villagers when he returned home.

  * * * * *

  Briana was shocked later when she stood in front of the mirror and saw how wrinkled the gown was. How was she going to go out in public like this? The next instant, she discarded that worry. Why should she care what these people thought of her? She was going to be leaving soon anyway.

  The brazier had gone out hours ago and it was darn cold. Briana lay down on the soft bed and snuggled beneath the fur throw, disregarding the already hopelessly wrinkled condition of her dress. Warmth was more important than looks right now. Biting her bottom lip, she suddenly wondered just how much longer she was going to have to suffer in this difficult environment.

  Merry ol’ England was a tough old girl to get used to, especially for modern people. She and Raynor were going to have to work more diligently on bonding if they were to escape anytime soon. She played the images of his masculine chest through her mind, readying herself for his return. Soon, daydreams of a heated encounter with her handsome companion floated through her mind.

  She remembered his skilled kisses with no problem and replayed them mentally for her own pleasure. Then, she recalled the tenderness with which he licked and suckled her breasts. She was toasty warm now, her own body providing much needed heat. Briana cupped her breasts beneath the cover and pressed gently while the image of Raynor licking them filled her thoughts and senses. Her nipples were hard. She tweaked and rolled them between her fingers while picturing him doing the same thing.

  Her musings took on an exciting realism when she saw her own nude body, her legs splayed wide with Raynor kneeling between them. His eyes ran over her form, devoured and ignited it to cinders, while his amber orbs shone like tiny molten suns. The daydream Briana was much more bold than she could ever be; this side of her was comfortable with her exposed position, and needed no further urgings when he commanded her to open her lips…

  Using both hands, she did as he requested, never taking her eyes from his face, receiving a heated coil of excitement from his hot eyes.

  “Wider.” His voice was rough.

  Not sure which body parts he meant exactly, she spread her legs wider and then also pulled her flesh further apart.

  “Yes,” he breathed out a ragged response. “You’re so beautiful, so pink.” Raynor’s eyes came back up to her face when he asked, “Will you taste as sweet as you look?”

  Her stomach clenched in antici
pation when his head dipped to her mons immediately after that statement-like question. No pretense of kissing his way down her belly, just an instant response. He rubbed his nose and face into her flesh, as if imprinting her scent into his own skin, and then followed with his tongue.

  Warm, wet, and soft. Was there any other part of a man’s body that felt as wondrous? Briana had to smile at her own thoughts. His penis was just as good in its own right, but now she wanted to enjoy this particular offering. His skill was amazing. That beautiful appendage circled, swept up and down, and flicked her clit into a stew of excitement. Of course his lips were added into the mix, driving her up the side of a roller coaster ride sensation. Not at the top yet, but close.

  A sudden wicked, inventive thought wedged itself into her musings. She vaguely remembered the snakewoman’s tongue and how it drove Raynor crazy. Following her command, the dream Raynor reared up and opened his mouth; his extremely long tongue snaked out. Good, she thought, just as impressive as the snakewoman. Now, she had him reposition himself between her thighs…

  Closing her eyes, she used only her sense of feeling while his tongue slid slowly inside her vagina. Its magnificent length filled her completely, causing her to groan aloud. At first, he simply wiggled it back and forth, making her squirm. But then he began a dance of slow withdrawal and shoving it back in.

  He changed the movements as it pleased him, or maybe he was picking up cues from her body and responding to them. Sometimes he plunged his tongue back in fast and furious, alternating it with the plodding motion. It was driving her crazy, just as she’d done him while in her snakewoman form. She was wet, as slippery inside as his tongue was.

  Abruptly, he changed tactics again, withdrawing his tongue and flicking her clit quickly a few times before shoving it back inside her. Briana moaned loudly, her hips moving in a restless manner. Electric tingles shot through her clit and her whole pussy throbbed, felt swollen and achy. Opening her eyes, she panted in reaction to watching his black hair spill over her lower belly. Suddenly, he raised up slightly, as if sensing her observation and stared at her while his tongue continued its sensual shimmy.

 

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