He shoved that shaft into me so deeply, forcing another scream from my lips. I doubted he'd ever be able to pull himself out. Then he got stuck. I think. Or he's driving me mad, moving just half an inch in and out. Playing my screamer like a magic button with the tiniest moves that had me grabbing long hair on his head. I threw my head back, ground the back of my skull against the hardness of the underlying floor beneath the pallet, and yowled.
Falling again. Somehow falling…Flying and screaming. Clawing into the skin beneath the wiry hair on his shoulders. Arching my lower back like I'd walked into the electric fence dripping wet. Pumping my hips. Faster and faster as if the motion could scratch my inner itch.
His soft flesh tapped my bottom.
Odd. Like he's happy with things.
Something even weirder took place inside me. He's changing again. Getting larger. Rougher. Scraping me, causing that indescribable but pleasant emotion to amplify. Or maybe it's the high pitch my scream has reached?
If there's any glass left in the windows, above ground, it's a miracle.
That wall of need stacked into something so huge that I just might hit the ground hard flying this way. So perfectly he's making me feel, like I can't hold still. Can't even claw a good handhold into the bulging musculature along the iron line of his collarbone. I'm slipping. Shuddering. Trying to breathe…
He roared and thrust so forcefully into me, yet froze.
Pinning my quaking body beneath him.
My body is speared by his heaving mass. Why isn't he moving?
His engorged lance flinched.
And if this isn't rapture, nothing is. I'd read a Holy Bible many times--learned the mythology just to know what Prophets believed so they wouldn't call me a sinner if I wound up cornered by those animals. And how the young curious girl I was had wondered what rapture must be. Something monumental. Something extremely different from what the Bible said. Colt inside me is nothing less.
How do I keep him here?
I need him to stay. I need to feel this perfect forever.
He jerked back into a stroking powerful rhythm.
Rocking my hips. Stoking my need. Rather, emptiness. Even better than where I had been clinging to what I could hold onto of him. And that wiry hair gave me gooseflesh.
Thank the stars because the sensations he struck up within me are worth every shudder and gasp of mine. I grabbed his hairy hard ass, tried to claw through the fur that completely covered his skin while he frantically pumped that hard club into me. Over and over his hips stabbed that mind-numbing firmness of his into my womb until he seemed unable to drag the leaden thing out, and only then did he suddenly halt, switching to simply rock my hips as if he tended to a crying babe. Me. All the while, he sucked in air almost sounding as if he attempted to call back his growls.
Growls of possession.
He leaned forward, toward my neck.
This is it. The rites. But possession's pretty nice so far.
He snarled a dying growl.
One that had to indicate he wasn't too happy. I couldn't know with all that wiry hair on his face. Or maybe he's as satisfied as I am? I combed my fingers through the mass of fur covering his shoulders.
He gurgled a little sound of satisfaction.
Over. That's it. So much for beastly possession. To think I feared the rites of possession.
His ribs beat against me where his ribcage struggled to pump oxygen throughout his body. Even his heart rattled. But he was silent save for his rapid breathing. Mine was equally haggard.
What next? Is that all?
He shoved onto his furred arms, the fur seeming to thin, and presented me with his normal human face.
Shouldn't he have shape shifted completely? But I know nothing about intimacy with Shifters. "Colt?"
He locked those blue eyes on my questioning stare. "Everything is going to be alright. But there's something you should know."
Oh no. Possession isn't over.
My heart thrashed.
I just had sex with a man who turned into a hairy yeti. That part wasn't so bad. Is the horrible part that remains? "What?"
"If the aliens come for us and we're captured, it's probably better for you if you're not bonded to me." The fur on his shoulders suddenly thinned enough like a fading fog, revealing his human skin.
Like his human side was beginning to play games with a woman instead of claiming her like a beast. This isn't making sense. A Shifter should be trying to protect me. The woman. That's what Shifters do. Or so rumor says. "But what will the extraterrestrials do to me?"
"I don't know. But if we're a pair, they're more likely to take us as lab rats or breeders."
I've heard all those rumors. And the captive couples that bring the highest dollar are those where the female is a cougar. Not boring Normal me. This is all about Buck again. He's saving me for Buck. The ass. There we go. The true point he didn't want to announce. Besides, I'm not ready to give another man full reign over me. Especially one who only wants to fuck me. And nobody else gets to. Like I don't have a choice. But I won't argue. "Maybe you're right." I tried to act indifferent, even agreeable.
"Then why did you just tense up?"
"I didn't." I think.
His hair had thinned so much now that his body looked like a hairy Normal male stretched out atop mine.
"Well," he sighed, "I don't know what else to do. I don't need you angry at me right now for taking over."
Ass.
"After all, the aliens are notorious for taking mated pairs. Maybe they're just coming for Ebony," he added.
Probably trying to cover his bare ass. And what would happen if they came for Ebony? He'd probably just hand that poor woman over to them like he would fuck me and give me to his annoying brother. So much for Shifters respecting women. Men are all alike.
"You're awfully quiet, Raven."
I will be since learning the truth about all men, Shifters and Normals. I blinked and found him staring me down. Quiet, him? Well, that's because he's turned into an asshole like Thomas. "You can't give Ebony to them."
His arched eyebrows flattened into one serious line. "I never said I would. Shifters protect females."
Right. As if I'd choke back my thoughts because he tried to deny his words. "Look, Ebony knows all about the aliens. We need her to help us understand what they're doing. Right? You can't give her to them."
"Raven, I have no intention of allowing those animals to take anyone here. That's another reason for you not to be marked just yet. Yet," he emphasized that nagging word.
The magic word that fools a girl into spreading her legs. Never again. He's got one chance to prove his word. That's it. We'll see how events unfold. If he follows through, I'm a believer.
"You and I are safer if we just appear single," he murmured, trailing a tickling fingertip along my jaw line. "Once we know those bastards aren't coming here, we'll take care of that yet." He winked.
Rather, avoid marking at all costs. Besides, he'll probably cheer when I pretend to agree with him. "You're certainly right." I forced a sincere smile.
He lowered his forehead until the warm sweaty skin touched mine and gazed into my eyes with those blue eyes that promised of blue skies. "If they aren't here by tomorrow night, they aren't coming, Kitten."
Well, it won't matter whether they do or don't come. I've seen enough not to be bothered at all when you leave me with Buck. Buck won't be happy because I have no interest in him.
"Now, let's get dressed and be ready for whatever happens." He shoved onto his feet and extended a helpful hand in the fading orange light. "That's the only way I can protect you."
Right. Although having a protector would be nice. One that doesn't want to hand me over to his brother for breeding rights. I'm not property. I'm not thoughtless. I have feelings. I have a choice in the matter. And I'd choose the lesser of two evils if he'd take me. Possess me. But he just isn't in the mood to defy his brother.
Mood…That's what we need. All t
he lighting and music they talk about in those romance novels in Thomas' library. Yes. I need a little soft candle glow--like the orange light above. And a cushion to lounge upon. Well, that isn't happening down here. But I have some wine. And wine always helps loosen people up. Maybe unlock the jaws of destiny and get the right fangs clamped upon one's person. Oh yes. I should do it. I could have the brother of my choice that way. Intervene on my own behalf. Just like in those romance novels. And Thomas was the one who said use black lace lingerie. Why not? If I want something, I should fight for it instead of sit around and wait for these men to do what they will.
****
We'd dressed without further discussion. She kept her back to me. Like she was suddenly embarrassed about her nudity after what we'd just shared. And with this dying orange light above, it's more difficult to make out her body with the shadows hiding what I could see an hour ago. She's probably rattled about the extermination ray and what lay in our future. But she doesn't seem to need comforting.
She strapped those pistols back onto her thighs.
It's crazy how they began to define her. The woman with her guns loaded. Ready for trouble. Maybe I should just mark her. She'll be safe with me no matter what happens here or among The Damned kept imprisoned upon alien spaceships.
Mark, Wolf whispered.
She acts like she's ignoring me though. Like I'm in the Gods-be-damned doghouse. Am I? "Raven?"
"What?" She turned a questioning mask my direction.
No. Don't go there. You'll just make her even more upset. "It's going to be fine. You'll see. The aliens probably won't even show up."
"Oh? You've said that twice. Why do you think they'll abandon this big chase ending with an extermination ray?" She glanced overhead at the fading orange glow, then faced me. "There's certainly something bringing all of this devastation to my small farm. What do you think it's all about?"
"They want her dead. That's why the world glowed." Or so I'm going to lead everyone to believe that. We can't be certain though. If you get too comfortable with one way of thinking, you miss all the other indications of what's really unfolding. Tomorrow should reveal a new plan of action with my sire. Where is Vermin and my good-for-nothing little brother? Once Vermin arrives, he'll take over dealing with Ebony, leaving me to mark and set things straight with my little kitten.
"Well? You've got an answer written all over your face," she said.
"Not really." I could play games or just come clean. She isn't a fool. So, clean is the best of the two options. "When my sire arrives, he'll deal with Ebony."
"Deal with her?" She rose to snake her arms across her chest.
Confrontationally. I guess I'll spell everything out for her to end this strange standoff. "Yes. Because Ebony brought those aliens here. And she knows all about them. We can't be sure they aren't after something else. That Ebony isn't working with them."
She blinked very slowly.
Contemplatively.
"Alright," she timbered. "My homestead is essentially destroyed. My uncle is almost useless until his ideas for a brighter future clear. And I just gave you a piece of me. We'll see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully, your sire."
Why do I feel like she punched my teeth out? Like she put everything I am on the line?
Protect, Wolf snarled.
Shut up. I took the three steps to stand before her squared shoulders and defiant stare. What is going through her head? "It's going to be okay, Raven. Trust me."
"Why do men always say that?" She just stared.
Because we want to care. Because we're supposed to protect females. Because we're stupid and babble like Buck. Oh. Fuck. No wonder she looks so annoyed. I should have marked her when I had the chance. After she gave me a piece of her. Something happened to make her feel like I'd had my fill. What?
Chapter 9
I kept my thoughts to myself just to keep from spilling drivel all over Raven's boots. Again. Somehow I managed to piece back together what happened. What I'd said. What could have possibly caused her to come to the conclusion that she'd given me a piece of her? Hell, yes. I want every piece. All of her. But not like this. Not with her confused. I need a willing mate. A happy woman.
Grit whispered beneath the thick rubber soles of her hiking boots. She turned, walking away.
To the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Reaching up. Grabbing a the long neck of a prostrate bottle. Wine. She's gone for her wine. Not a good sign. "Are you okay, Raven?"
She turned a contemplative expression back to me. "I wonder what Thomas is doing?"
Oh no. She doesn't need to get excited again. Good thing she's got a death grip on that bottle. "I'm certain he's fine." Now, just settle down and drink away that fear.
She strode back to my side, casually seated her sweet welcoming form on the floor, and struggled with the cork.
Not a problem because she needs to relax. I bent my knees and plucked the cold hard glass from her grasp.
The cork didn't fight at all when I pushed the spongy wood that gave with an astonished pop, hurling it across the room like a dart.
"Thank you." She nodded. "You first."
Not what I expected to hear. Probably not a good thing to do either. I can handle a drink though. Shifters are trained early on to deal with social drinking. We've all had one just to see what we can handle. So, I should just take a drink instead of fueling her negativity. I lifted the hard smooth glass to my lips and poured warm fruity liquid across my tongue.
She reached for the bottle.
Yes. Take this poison water. The last thing I need is to be out of control. I handed over.
She lifted the bottle a few inches. "To us."
Hell. I should have thought of a toast. What's wrong with me? I'm thinking too much like Buck. "To us." She better like the reciprocal sentiment.
She chugged down a popping gulp.
And extended the Gods-be-damned bottle my direction. Shit. This isn't funny, universe. But the rate things are going, she'll probably accuse me of not liking her wine. That's going to make my life Hell. I can't take more from her. I took the bottle and tried to feign a long drag on it while only taking a sip.
Hell haunted us in our little subterranean hidey hole.
I don't know how much time it took for Hell to seep up through the earth's crust and invade our space. Hell! It's unavoidable. Because we're underground. Because she's forcing me to take turns with a bottle I swear isn't getting any lighter. Because I can't do anything but stick my second boot in my mouth and refuse. And it's getting warm down here where Hell's supposed to be. Mighty warm. And all I can smell is fruity wine.
"I love my homestead," she suddenly said with enough passion to bathe her cheeks with tears. Her emotional gaze locked onto mine. "I love it here, especially with your pants off."
As hot as Hell is getting, I'd have to agree. I guess the Christians had something there. "Now, Raven, we must be ready for whatever happens when it's safe to venture outside." Wearing pants.
She tilted that bottle high and chug-a-lugged.
Like a wino.
"Here," she said, thrusting the bottle at me, and blinking wildly. "If we drink enough wine, it won't matter what happens later. Now is what matters."
So fucking true. Like we don't have a future. Like we're going to die in this pit. Like we're buried alive.
Mine, Wolf snarled. Mark, mine!
As if I wasn't protecting her mental stability. Damned mutt. She needs to suck down another bottle and sleep through the stress. I can guard a sleeping woman better than I can care for a tease. I just need to convince her to grab her own draught. "All we need is more wine." I rose.
The room shifted.
I couldn't have drank that much wine. But the bottle seems lighter. Really light. Maybe we have had quite a bit. Most Shifters get really aggressive and uncontrollable when drinking too much.
Mate, Wolf whispered.
My crotch started throbbing with an agreeable pulse.
Not good. Shut
up, Wolf. Our job is to get her out of this mess alive so we have a mate tomorrow.
Wolf actually whimpered a pathetic dying sound.
My legs worked as I had planned and took me to another bottle.
"I love it when you dance," Raven said.
Rather sincerely. And there better be equal sincerity in her voice when she thanks me for marking her.
Mark! Mark! Wolf scratched at the underside of my ribs.
Me and my big mouth.
"Damn," she slapped the concrete floor. "I should have worn that black lace bra and panties." She stared across the room with disappointment. "You would have loved them."
Lace! Wolf hissed.
No lace. Animals and their one-track minds. Oh to be so simple-minded. I managed to walk gracefully back to my sad little kitten and descended in one motion.
Well, caught myself with a palm on the floor when the room tilted.
"Oh," she said, reaching for the full bottle's neck, "is this for me?"
The glint in her eyes reflected a certain kind of life that I couldn't define. Thought? Rather a reflection of her character--unleashed by the potion she'd bottled sometime in the past. Witchcraft. I hadn't pegged Raven for witchcraft. At least she isn't into praying at altars. "Yes. I thought we could make a few toasts together."
"Oh." She smiled sweetly and leaned toward me.
And missed, landing her sweet little lips an inch from my crotch.
"That's so romantic," she giggled and peered.
Right. I'm just a big lovesick fool. I make myself really sick with missed opportunities. Especially those hovering around my crotch.
"Now," she said where she hovered before my throbbing cock, leaning at a strange drunken angle, thrusting her bottle out to my side, "you toast first."
Okay. I tapped the neck of my bottle against hers. "To all of the babies we're going to have."
Her head tilted enough to where I could see her mask stretched into a smile of disbelief. "Babies?"
As if she didn't believe me, leaning there, kind of broken looking. Over my writhing snake. Shit. A man can only take so much. "Many many babies."
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