The Shifter's Seduction_Shifters of the Seventh Moon

by Selena Scott

  “Tre, do you really think I want any of the crap you just described?” He blinked at her and she plowed right on. “I mean, sure, the sentiment of it sounds really nice. But a bath every night is a waste of water. I don’t even own a car for you to detail. I already have enough of these socks. I can solve most of my problems by myself. Sweetheart,” she stepped forward. “I’m afraid you have absolutely no idea how to be with someone. And you’re telling yourself you can’t play the game before you even know the rules.”

  He blinked some more. She didn’t know it, but the word sweetheart clanked down through him like a wedding ring clacking its way down the drain at the bottom of a kitchen sink. He was stunned by her.

  “You want me?” she asked, and then stunned him further by whipping off her pajamas over her head and scuffing the shorts down her legs. She stood before him completely naked in the stark, unforgiving light, her hair messy and flopping to the side, her breasts standing at attention, pink and pointing at the tips, her legs slightly spread, one hand on her hip. “Then come over here and fuck me.”

  Tre kind of felt like his brain was re-booting. He could almost see the rainbow thinking wheel in his line of vision. The most beautiful woman in the world was naked as all hell in front of him and telling him to fuck her. He tried desperately to get his brain back online. He needed to sort through the moral implications of either course of action. Did he get her clothes back on and shoo her out? Spoon her sweetly? Did he sleep with her and deal with his morality later? What was the play here? He had no idea.

  But apparently his body had other ideas because suddenly he was standing dead in front of her and Caroline was not the one who’d crossed the distance between them.

  He breathed heavily and stared into her honey eyes. His breath caught when he felt her hands at his belt and then the zipper of his pants. She pushed him backwards and he stumbled. She gripped his shoulders and straight up dragged him to the ground.

  They landed in a pile on the ground with Tre on his back and Caroline straddled over top of him. He’d never seen this sweet woman look quite so fierce. He felt like she’d gone off the deep end and was dragging him with her. And God, he wanted to be dragged. He so badly needed someone to push him around and tell him what was what. He didn’t want to know best. He wanted Caroline to know best. He wanted to get in the fucking passenger seat and get his dumbass hands off the wheel. He didn’t know anything. A big fat zero.

  Sweetheart.

  Deep inside of him that word clanked a drumstick against a tin can. It was trying to cause a ruckus, make a fuss. It was demanding to be heard. Trying to start a block party with all the rest of his feelings.

  She straddled his knees and went to work again on his pants. Her normally gentle hands were rough on his body. She reached behind his zipper and found his cock, pulsing and growing in her hand. In a move that Tre would remember even in his next life, Caroline licked the palm of her hand and jacked him a few times.

  As she crawled up his body, she took her other hand and swiped between own legs. When her fingers came away, they were glistening. Tre grabbed her hand by the wrist and brought those fingers to his mouth. He sucked her flavor off of her and groaned.

  “Caroline, love,” he grunted and grabbed her by the hips as she straddled his hips, the bare skin of her thighs dragging against his jeans. “Slow down.”

  “No,” she told him bluntly. She wrenched his hands from her hips and tangled their fingers. She slammed his hands down onto the ground, reared back and slicked her pussy over his cock. He hissed and she released one of his hands just long enough to reach back and line him up.

  She pinned his hand again and sank down on him an inch. She couldn’t take any more, despite how wet she was.

  “Love,” Tre grunted, trying to untangle his fingers from hers. “Let me soften you up. Let me touch you.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head and swiveling her hips. There was a fierce, unforgiving look in her eye. She glared at him. “Hands off.”

  She let go of him with one hand and brought her fingers to her clit. She stroked fast little circles over herself that Tre made a note of. He watched her give herself what she liked and commanded his hips not to move at any cost. She sank down another inch and then another. She was softening and accepting him. Taking him in. He breathed through his teeth, blinked his eyes fast. The images of her snapped across his consciousness. The harsh light, her utter nakedness. All his clothes. His cock slowly disappearing inside her.

  When he was gone to the hilt into her, she grabbed his hands again and fully pinned him. She was at an angle over him, her breasts close enough to taste. But her eyes kept him from leaning up.

  “Either you want me or you don’t. Do you understand?” she demanded.

  “Caroline.”

  “No,” she shook her head. “No arguing. I don’t want a caretaker, Tre. I don’t need another leash. Either you figure out how to see me as a whole person or you can’t have me.”

  She lifted up and slammed back down on him, their bodies making an almost vulgarly wet slap. He hissed in a breath.

  “I see you as a whole person.”

  “No,” she shook her head again. “You see me as some perfect, delicate object that needs to be spoiled and protected. And you see yourself as some broken thing that resembles a man. But you don’t even see yourself as a full person.”

  Her words were infecting him. The other sex they’d had had been cloudy and almost delirious. But this sex was in sharp focus. The harsh light, her burning eyes. Her fingers digging his hands into the floor. Lashing him in place with words he’d never have been able to listen to otherwise. The way she was riding him, harsh and punishing, was slamming him headfirst into reality.

  This couldn’t have been pleasurable for her, he thought frantically. She was taking him so hard. No finesse, just force. But there was a flush on her cheeks and her eyes were having trouble focusing. She tried to say something but dropped her head back and made a breathless little moan instead. He felt her spasm on him, tightening.

  “You are a person and I’m a person,” she gasped. “If we’re not meant to be, that’s fine. I’ll get over it.” He was sure that she would. He was not so sure about himself. “But don’t end this before it starts just because you’re not seeing it correctly.” Her breasts bounced above him, her body slammed into his. He could feel her wetness even through his jeans. “You have to see me, Tre. I’m so tired of being an object. I’m so tired of being invisible. You have to fully see me.”

  And then she fully tightened, every single muscle in her body down to her eyelids. He gritted his teeth as he watched her go over the edge. A soft cry escaped her before she fell flat over him, her pussy pulsing around his cock. Their fingers were still tangled but her hands had gone lax. Tre pulled his hands from hers and traced down her arms, over her neck and back. He dragged his hands down her thighs and found the soles of her feet with his fingertips. She shivered against him and Tre could do nothing more than clamp his forearms over her back, fully clasping her to him.

  “I see you,” he whispered, thrusting up into her soft heat. “I’m looking.” He gasped against the liquid-tight clasp of her. “I won’t stop,” he promised before he could stop himself. And then he found he didn’t want to stop himself.

  “I won’t stop,” he chanted over and over as he fucked her from below, his feet planted on the ground and one of his palms flat over her ass to keep her tipped perfectly to take his thrusts.

  She moaned and slipped her arms under his neck, hugging him fiercely and planting her temple on the floor next to his head. He tipped his face toward hers and their breaths slammed into one another. Her eyes were as hazy as his, half-lidded as he rhythmically fucked into her, sharp and desperate.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  “I won’t. I won’t. F-Fuck. Goddammit. I won’t.” He didn’t. He rode them fast and hard through the storm of it. He saw, in wonder, her eyes blow out, dilate hard with her
pleasure. She dragged her clit tight against him as he changed his rhythm, pushing into him and grinding. She moaned and lunged forward to bite his lip. She bit him fiercely. Unexpectedly. There was anger and passion and ownership in that bite. It was with her weight on top of him, her teeth scoring emotion into his flesh, that Tre felt himself come loose from himself.

  His orgasm fought its way out of him, and he went with it. He realized dimly that he was leaving something behind, even as he was shooting forward into something else. He came hard, deep inside Caroline, and had no idea where he was going to land.

  ***

  They lay like that, in a weak puddle on the floor, for over an hour. His clothes were sticky and stuck to his damp body, she was naked and stretched out over him. They were wet with one another’s passion and completely wrung out.

  Caroline thought that maybe he was sleeping, but she didn’t open her eyes to find out. It wasn’t until he started to harden inside of her that she realized he wasn’t sleeping at all. Her eyes sprang open to find him staring at her.

  She gasped when his hips came forward just a scant inch, pushing further into her. Their lips met and their eyes stayed open.

  This time, it was slow and sweet and sinuous. Nothing sharp or forceful. He held her tight, but his hands were all over her back, warm and gentle. Her fingers found their way to his hair but she didn’t tug. She merely searched out the warmth of his scalp. When they finished, jerking and gasping, their lips were pressed together but they weren’t quite kissing.

  This time, Tre only let the afterglow last about thirty seconds before he hauled them upright. They both winced when wetness spread between them, but the wince turned into laughter. He set her on her feet, making sure she was steady before he started wrestling his clothes off of his sweaty, spent body.

  “Jesus,” he murmured, shaking his head as he led them to his shower. “What the fuck just happened?”

  “Not entirely sure,” she mumbled, her hair a rat’s nest and her eyes half dazed. He made quick work of showering them both, making a lot of guesses at what the hell to do with her hair. She was lazy and relaxed and too snoozy to give much instruction. So he pulled them both out a few minutes later, toweling them both off as gently and quickly as he could before he tumbled them into bed.

  She was heavy, half over top of him, her breaths even and her eyes closed. He couldn’t sleep. He had one hand wide over her back and his other hand over one of her ass cheeks, his fingers pressed gently into her crease. It wasn’t sexual, he was just trying to hang onto her any way that he could.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Seriously,” he said, the second she stirred awake the next morning. “What the hell happened?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “You a little flustered, sweetheart?”

  “You keep calling me that. Sweetheart.”

  She hummed in agreement and rolled over to face him. Caroline felt delightfully loose and light. The thrumming frustration and irritation she’d felt for Tre had been thoroughly fucked out of her last night. She’d said her piece, made him hear it the best she could possibly do. If he turned away from her now, she figured she’d take the heartbreak on the chin and know that she’d done the best she could. She couldn’t be responsible for his decisions. The rest was up to him.

  “No one has ever called me sweetheart before.”

  “Really?” She steepled her hands under one cheek and just watched him. He stared at the ceiling. One of his hands was clenched in his hair and the other laid flat across her thigh.

  He nodded. “Really. Not even my mother.”

  “What did she call you instead?”

  “Theodore.”

  “What!?” Caroline laughed, a quick bubbling chuckle. “Why?”

  “Because that’s my name. My real name. Theodore Rowley Sullivan the Third.”

  She clamped down greedily on this piece of information. It filled her up and made her sad all at once. She knew so little about her lover. She was desperate for more. “Where did Tre come from?”

  “The Third. Number three. Tre. It’s a family thing, I guess. I have a cousin they call Tre because he’s the third as well.”

  “Huh. But your mother called you…”

  “Theodore, yeah. Or Teddy sometimes. I used to pretend that I hated that. Being a ginger, I didn’t need to give the other kids any more reason to ridicule me. And allowing your mother to call you Teddy is signing your own death certificate. But I always secretly liked it.”

  “What was your mother like?”

  “She was… cuddly. And really, really strict. She’d lay down the law and stick to it. But always with a big hug or a back scratch or a kiss. She made sure I fell in line, but she was sweet about it.”

  “She died when you were young.”

  “Yeah. And then it was just me and Pop.” He paused and she knew better than to interrupt. “Who was neither cuddly nor strict. He let me do whatever the hell I wanted and barely noticed. He couldn’t pay attention to me to save his life. Or mine.”

  “So as soon as you got out of there, you did.” So they both knew what abandonment felt like. Emotional abandonment, at least. The slow melting away of someone who is supposed to love you. Simply a physical presence where there should have been love.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you went and made yourself all colorful so that no one could ignore you ever again.” She traced his tattoos with one firm finger.

  “Oh. I guess I never thought about it that way.”

  “I know what it feels like to be ignored, Tre. I would never, ever do that to you.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you gonna do that to me? Even if you think it’s for my own good?”

  He paused for a really long time until she sat up and faced him. Her knees were curled under her and her palms were planted flat on the bed. She was naked but it was her face that his eyes watched.

  “Do you think I’m dumb?” she asked him.

  “No! God, no.”

  “Alright, so naive then?”

  “No. Not naive. You’ve been through a marriage, a divorce. I don’t think anyone could leave those experiences as naive.”

  “Innocent?”

  He paused in a way that told her she’d hit the nail on the head. “Well,” he said eventually. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So,” she folded her hands over her lap and spoke slowly. “That’s why you think you can make decisions for me? That’s why what Arturo said hit you so hard? Because you think that I wouldn’t break up with you if you were bad for me? You think that if the demon came for me, I’d be so helpless that you’d have no choice but to sacrifice yourself on the altar of my soul?”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  “Not so complimentary, huh?” She sighed for a long time. “Tre, there’s a lot more to love than sacrifice.”

  He went still beside her. He was looking right into her face, but she could see that his mind was racing, his eyes unseeing.

  She thought there was a chance that she should slow down, let him digest this all a little bit. But she’d popped the champagne. She had to say it all now. “I think you worry that if you couldn’t love me perfectly you just shouldn’t love me at all. But the real point is that you care about yourself enough to try. You think you’re doing me a favor by pulling back. You’re saving me from some future heartbreak. But really, you’re just forcing me to carry both of our weights through this, Tre. When instead you could just be steadily at my side. Carrying some of this burden.”

  Tre sat up suddenly, making her tip to one side. He jumped out of bed and dragged on his pants. Caroline quickly followed, pulling her pajamas on. “Tre!”

  But he was out of the bedroom and striding toward the living room where the group was sitting, eating a late breakfast and talking in low, serious voices.

  Arturo was there as well, frowning at something that Martine was saying to him.

  “What happened to Amelia?”

  Tre’
s voice was loud and froze the room, including Caroline, coming in hot behind him.

  Tre’s eyes bored into Arturo’s. “Tell me,” he demanded. “What happened to her after you pulled your hero act?”

  Arturo looked at him, a bored expression on his face, but there was an incensed anger there as well, at the edges. “She lived her life. Eventually she died.”

  “Tell me the truth!” Tre said through clenched teeth. He’d had enough of this horseshit from Arturo. This entire thing with Caroline was hanging in the balance and Arturo had answers. Tre needed them. “Just for once in your life, don’t be a deceitful asshole and just tell me what really happened.”

  Arturo rose up quickly and the chair he’d been sitting on fell backwards. Blue energy crackled at his fingertips. The group seemed to be holding their breath for his reaction. A second passed, Arturo’s black eyes glaring into Tre’s green ones. Then Arturo turned, righted his chair and sat back down.

  “You want to know what happened to Amelia? She was heartbroken. She didn’t take care of herself for almost a decade. She was lost over me. Just like I was over her. Eventually she married a nice man. One who was kind to her. But she didn’t have children and she didn’t ever find the kind of happiness that she and I had had. She died an old woman. Heart failure.”

  “Did you make the right choice?” Tre asked, his voice hoarse. “When you sacrificed yourself for her. Did you make the right choice?”

  Arturo dropped his head into one hand. “There is no way to beat the demon. Someone has to make the choice. I thought I was saving her. But really, I was just condemning her to a different kind of hell.”

  The room was silent. No one’s eyes sought one another’s. Eventually, Tre felt a smooth, warm hand grip his. Caroline. He gripped her fingers right back. He tipped his head and stared down into her face. I understand, he wanted to say to her, but Arturo was standing back up again.

  He strode to the edge of the living room, his back to the group. “You want in my head so badly?” He spit out the words toward the men. “You want to see what a man with half a soul feels like on the inside? Then by all means. Let’s go.”