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Feral Magnetism

Page 2

by Lacey Savage


  In truth, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way her breasts pressed up against the thin material of her dress, her nipples clearly outlined through the cloth. He wondered whether her areolas were the color of dark chocolate or a pale, rosy pink. Her legs went on forever under that short skirt, and he couldn’t help but picture the creamy skin of her thighs leading up to a perfect, wet cunt.

  “What sort of thing? The blonde bombshell look?”

  J.C. kneaded a knot at the back of his neck in a vain attempt to relieve some of his cramping muscles. This wasn’t the first time he’d been stuck in mid-shift, but he certainly hoped it would be the last. His entire body screamed in protest.

  “Pussy,” J.C. said bluntly.

  “Ah. When was the last time you had some?”

  “A few months. No, wait.” J.C. frowned, trying to remember. A year? Two? Had it really been that long? “I don’t know,” he said at last, shaking his head. He was glad he could no longer see the woman as clearly, though her rhythmic breathing assured him she was still alive. She’d come to eventually; hopefully after he’d returned to his human form and put on some clothes.

  “Want to have a little fun?” Brad’s voice took on that throaty tone he used when he was horny and he’d just come up with a new kinky game to play.

  “No.”

  “Aww, come on. We’d wait for her to wake up first.”

  “No.”

  “But you didn’t even hear what I had to say.”

  J.C. sighed. “I’m not interested.”

  “Really? An hour ago you were lamenting your lack of a mate, now a prospective candidate lands at your feet and you’re not even willing to consider a quick fuck?”

  J.C.’s teeth ground together before he even realized he’d clamped his jaw shut. “I said I was going to choose a mate from among our pack, not a human with no knowledge of our ways. The mere idea that this woman might be my mate is absolutely ridiculous.” His pulse quickened as he glanced at her fallen form. His cock twitched, as if disagreeing with his statement. J.C. looked away before any more body parts could get any ideas.

  “Fine, then, no more talk of mating rituals. But the elders didn’t say you couldn’t fuck a human, right? Though I’m willing to bet she’s not the kind of woman who’d indulge in a threesome, which is too bad.”

  J.C.’s mouth went dry. A threesome? With her? Images assaulted his mind in the dark, each more carnal than the last. He pictured the blonde on her knees, sucking Brad’s cock while J.C. fucked her from behind, his dick buried to the hilt in her creamy, wet pussy. He bit his lip to keep from groaning. “Something tells me she’d be willing.”

  “How about a friendly wager, then? We’ll ask her when she wakes up. If she agrees, you win. Not only will we get to fuck her, but…” Brad paused as though searching for a suitable wager. “I’ll tell the elders I’m willing to choose a mate. That’ll buy you at least another couple of months before they come after you again.”

  J.C.’s mouth gaped open. The pack’s confirmed bachelor -- gay bachelor -- was willing to choose a mate? “Why would you do that?”

  He could almost see Brad shrugging in the dark. “I need to do it sooner or later. I just haven’t been properly motivated yet.”

  J.C. shook his head. There was more to this than his friend was letting on. “And if you win?”

  “If I win… you let me fuck you for once.”

  Ah. That explained it. J.C. and Brad had been getting together for their weekly Fuck Fridays for years, but they had an agreement. J.C.’s ass was strictly off limits. He’d never let anyone penetrate him, no matter how horny he got or how often he fucked another man.

  He was a Zantean shifter. The pack’s alpha. Royalty. No one fucked him up the ass.

  “You’re awfully quiet. Is that a yes?”

  Wanting to make Brad believe he was actually thinking about his proposal, J.C. took a deep breath before responding. When he did, the answer was simple.

  “No.”

  * * *

  Eve awoke to the smell of sex.

  Not the slightly musky odor that permeated the air in her bedroom after she spent a night enjoying the pleasures of her favorite vibrator -- pungent but ultimately tame. No, this was the full-blown, tangy, mouthwatering aroma of unbridled lust. It made her think of hard naked bodies, of sweat and arousal, of semen splattered all over the floor.

  She kept her eyes closed, inhaling the scent through shallowly drawn breaths. This was the first time she’d been able to enjoy anything that even vaguely reminded her of an orgasm in… much too long. As much as she liked to tease her best friend, Angelina, about her lack of a sex life since Griffin abandoned her, Eve’s own erotic adventures left a lot to be desired. There were only so many nights a woman could spend in the company of a vibrator before even that took a backseat to a good book and Late Night with David Letterman.

  “Her breathing’s changed. Did you notice?”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  Eve’s heart quickened at the sound of the masculine voices. She gritted her teeth, trying to yank her thoughts away from nakedness and orgasms and back to the problem at hand. Where was she?

  She remembered walking through the gates of the Hard Delights amusement park, finding the fake beard in the trash can, listening outside the doors of the shack, and then…

  “Do you think she’s awake?”

  Eve stifled a gasp as images of two gorgeous men entwined in some of the hottest, wildest fucking she’d ever seen flashed behind her closed eyelids. Her inner muscles fluttered in response while her imagination insisted on replaying everything she’d seen before the world went black. One of the men was blond, lean, with perfectly shaped muscles and a firm ass she’d have loved to dig her fingernails into. Except someone had already beaten her to it.

  The other man had been darker, taller, more muscular. He looked strong and menacing, power and authority drifting off him in waves.

  And then he’d started to change. She replayed the scene in her mind. His fingers lengthening, his nails giving way to sharp, deadly-looking claws, his mouth and square jaw transforming into… a muzzle?

  She swallowed hard and dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from crying out.

  “Oh yeah, she’s definitely awake. Come on, Sleeping Beauty, if you’re up, get up.”

  For a moment, Eve considered pretending to still be unconscious, but discarded that idea as quickly as she’d thought of it. They’d never let her get away with it.

  She opened one eyelid and peered past her lashes, but all she could make out were shadows, dark patches of inky walls and absolute pitch black. Blinking both eyes open, she struggled to sit up. Her head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. A quick poke and prod of her forehead with her fingertips told her she’d hit her head on the way down. Surprisingly, that seemed to be all the damage she’d done.

  “Why are the lights off?” she mumbled while her hands flew down the length of her body to check for any other injuries. Her elbow was sore. She assumed she’d banged it on the way down.

  “Because this is a private party.”

  The male voice made warmth pool low in Eve’s belly. Awareness flittered to life in every nerve ending. Dismay crept in. She was not going to be attracted to a man who… who what? Who might not be a man at all?

  He sounded so arrogant, so sure of himself. She straightened her spine and turned her head, trying to pinpoint his location. “That much I was able to see for myself.”

  He made a sound that could either have been a chuckle or a snort of disbelief. Whatever it was, she decided to ignore it.

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you you’re supposed to lock the door when you’re… you’re…” She waved her hand in the air while searching for the right word. Her nails scraped against something solid.

  Something warm and solid.

  “Fucking.” He was so close his hot breath tickled her cheek. Cream dampened her panties.

  She should have
snatched her hand back, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. Even covered with hair, his skin was soft, deceptively so. Underneath the silky texture, his muscles tensed at her touch. Her fingers roamed upward, feeling every tendon flex as she trailed her hand higher. A moan crept up to her throat as more images assaulted her heightened senses. Being in the dark seemed to have done wonders for her libido, even though every logical thought her brain possessed screamed at her to run… or at least to take careful stock of the situation.

  She would probably have explored every inch of him if he had let her. Thankfully, one of them still had some common sense left.

  He snatched her wrist in a palm that felt much too large. “Why are you here?”

  Eve licked her suddenly dry lips. “I was looking for my friend.”

  “In here? Brad? Is she one of yours?”

  An amused chuckle echoed from the other side of the room. “Does she look like she’s one of mine?”

  “She doesn’t look like she belongs to anyone. And that’s the problem.”

  Eve bristled. “I’m not property, so stop talking about me like I am.” She snatched her wrist out of his grip and rose to her feet.

  The fireworks had stopped blasting their erotic imagery all over the night sky, Eve realized belatedly. How long had she been out?

  Panic crept in, replacing her arousal. Her knees wobbled as she turned a full circle on her high heels. “I appreciate the hospitality, but if you’ll point me to the door, I’ll be on my way.”

  A strong set of arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her down, yanking her breath from her lungs. Before she could regain her balance, she fell backward and landed hard on what could only be a lap. His lap. And she couldn’t explain away the erection pressing against her ass as a cell phone or a lighter. Nor could the fur covering his belly be rationalized away as a fuzzy sweater.

  Despite herself, Eve wiggled her hips, just a little. He rewarded her with a sharp intake of breath in her ear. “You’re not going anywhere until you and I have a little chat.”

  She turned slightly, bumping his nose in the process. Or at least, what she hoped was his nose. It could very well have been his muzzle, or whatever other strange appendage he might have sprouted since she’d passed out.

  Fear snaked through Eve. Was he dangerous? What did these two men -- if that was even the right word -- plan to do with her? Having been around Angelina since fifth grade, fairies and other magical creatures weren’t foreign to her. She knew the world was full of paranormal beings, friendly and otherwise. Sitting on the wolf-man’s lap, though, brought home a reality she’d never thought she’d come face to face -- or ass to cock -- with.

  “I’d do what he says if I were you,” Brad suggested from his spot. She was grateful he was far enough away. She didn’t think she could remain sane while two hard male bodies sandwiched her between them.

  Eve tried to keep her voice even. “And why’s that?”

  “Because normally, J.C. Hill isn’t the kind of guy you want to mess with.”

  J.C.

  She found she liked the way that sounded. It fit him, somehow. Direct and succinct, with a touch of mystery. “Normally?” she echoed.

  “Yeah. On a normal day, J.C. is a force to be reckoned with. This entire month has been anything but normal. So right now, he’s either your worst nightmare, or your darkest fantasy.”

  J.C.’s cock twitched against her ass and he growled, low and menacing in her ear. She couldn’t tell if the warning was meant for Brad, or for her.

  Eve swallowed hard. “Is there a difference?”

  Chapter Three

  The inside of J.C.’s head pounded like the roaring firework explosions that had shimmered and faded only minutes before. He struggled to think logically about the situation, but the shift had done more to his ability to reason than he’d realized.

  He was too aware of Eve sitting on his lap, her feminine scent enveloping him, her curvy ass pressing against his shaft. Her effect on his self-control was disturbing, to say the least. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt more than a slight stir of interest in the presence of any female, and this woman -- this human woman -- had managed to get him hard as a rock in two seconds flat by doing nothing more enticing than… speaking.

  “What exactly did you see when you walked in here?” J.C. asked. He might as well get right to the point. There was no reason to prolong the inevitable. If she’d seen him shift, he had some serious damage control to do.

  “I saw two grown men having sex. I figure what you do behind closed doors is none of my business.”

  The matter-of-fact tone she used made him laugh out loud before he could catch himself. The sound echoed strangely even to his own ears. He saw Brad’s body jerk forward in surprise at the unfamiliar noise. J.C. coughed to cover up his mirth, but it was too late.

  “What’s so funny?” She sounded affronted, like he’d just insulted her.

  “You actually mean to tell me you don’t see the irony in what you just said? The door was closed, lady. Therefore, whatever was going on behind it was, in fact, none of your business. Yet you barged in anyway.”

  She cleared her throat and shifted in his lap, sending another jolt of awareness to his groin. J.C. gritted his teeth.

  “Yeah, well, it was an emergency.”

  “It was?”

  “My friend has disappeared. I thought she might be in danger.”

  “And what exactly led you to think she was in here?”

  “I heard screams.”

  “You haven’t had much sex, have you?”

  Her body tensed in his arms. “I don’t see what my sex life has to do with anything.”

  “I was just thinking that if you’d had sex… say, more than once or twice, you’d realize that the sound of a man groaning with pleasure and a terrified scream are quite different from one another.”

  She squirmed against him, struggling to rise. He tightened his grip and pulled her closer, feeling her soft, curvy body mold against his own. It was all he could do to keep from demonstrating one of those manly groans he’d just described.

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly being… discreet.”

  “Lady, did you read the sign on the gate when you walked in here? This is a gay amusement park. What do you think men do after the fireworks go out?”

  “Eve.”

  “What?”

  “My name,” she said. “It’s Eve, not ‘lady,’ ‘babe,’ or even ‘Little Red Riding Hood.’ Eve.”

  Eve. J.C.’s first instinct was to tell her it was beautiful, just like her. Only the knowledge that Brad sat a few feet away, silent and watchful, kept him from making a fool of himself. He clamped his mouth firmly shut. He wasn’t the kind of man who uttered cheesy lines in vain attempts to get a woman into bed, no matter how hot she might look in a little red dress.

  “Tell me, Eve, why aren’t you afraid of me?” By all accounts, she should have run away in fear the moment she realized what he was. Humans had no concept of the otherworldly. They didn’t go around offering themselves as vampire snacks or werewolf companions. So then why was this one still sitting in his lap as though she interacted with werewolves trapped in mid-shift every day of the week?

  She turned toward him fully, swinging her leg over his thigh and straddling him. She wrapped her arms around him, her breasts pressing into his chest, her pointy nipples brushing his bare skin through the thin material of her dress.

  “I know you think I should be.” The sound of her throaty voice went straight to his cock. “But I don’t believe you’re quite as scary as you’d like people to think.”

  Until today, he hadn’t particularly cared whether anyone thought of him as scary. Humans didn’t even know werewolves existed. He’d wanted his pack to think of him as authoritative, sure. Powerful, definitely. Assertive, commanding, and maybe even a bit domineering, absolutely. But scary? What would that have accomplished for the Zanteans?

  A few werewolves who’
d recently abandoned the pack for greener pastures could benefit from seeing him as frightening and perhaps even dangerous, but he had more pressing concerns than a few runaways.

  Yet she was right, he realized with a sigh. He wanted her to see him as something more than what he was -- a reluctant leader who couldn’t even keep his people together. At least for tonight, he wanted to be a creature straight out of myth, a powerful being who could toss her over his shoulder and carry her back to his den where he’d fuck her until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

  “You’re wrong,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even. “You don’t know anything about me.” He trailed the back of his fingers up her spine, careful not to graze her with his claws, then dipped underneath one silky strap and molded his large palm around her neck. “I could snap your vertebrae with nothing more than a flick of my wrist.”

  “And why would you do that?” She sounded so innocent, so naïve. Her nonchalance had to be a game. She was playing with him, that much was clear. The question was, why?

  “Fun. Sport. Entertainment. Why else do predators terrify their prey?”

  “Turn on the light.”

  Her words startled him almost as much as the feel of her hand on his cock. He hadn’t even realized she’d moved it there until she shifted back slightly to give herself enough room to touch his throbbing dick. His shaft twitched against her palm.

  It was his turn to play dumb, but it took all his self-control to keep his voice steady. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because I want to see you. If you’re really as scary as you led me to believe, I’ll just pass out again and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “And when you wake up? Then what? You’ll run straight to the National Enquirer and spill the beans about the Connecticut wolf-man?”

  Her silvery laugh sent a warm shiver down his spine. “Right. Who’d believe me?”

  “Tabloids aren’t about truth, just about sensationalism. And you have to admit, you’ve a hell of a story to tell.”

  “So what’s your plan? You’re going to keep me here until I forget what I saw?” She trailed her hand lower to cup his exposed balls. This time he couldn’t fight the groan that broke free from his throat. “Or what I feel?”

 

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