His gaze moves to her face. “As rough as I am in all ways, I will be tender on your sex, female.”
“I don't know if I believe you,” she says, a fine tremor threading her voice as she gives a shaky laugh.
“Lie still.”
Kiel dips his head to her pussy, loving the scent of her arousal mixed with uncertainty and fear. Partly because she is not a fearful female by nature or submissive.
Camille Becker is none of those things.
Instead of going after her the way his throbbing cock tells him to, he nuzzles the inside of her thigh. Using his large hands, he pries her open as wide as she can go, spreading her pussy lips for his perusal.
She is exquisitely formed, like a deep pink flower whose petals have first opened to the sun. In this case, it is his tongue that will lap at the honey from the bud of her sex.
“Wait,” Camille says and threads her fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly.
As though that gesture can stop him. But he raises his eyes to hers.
“I've never let a man do this.”
“Again, I will say I am not a man.”
Dipping his head again, he feels her fingers fight him.
Kiel wins, plunging his tongue deep into her cunt, and Camille cries out in mixed pleasure and the pain as the wounds that scar her back are not fully healed as she helplessly arches off the table as though attempting to escape the sensation.
“Oh my God,” she whispers as Kiel attacks her hidden wet flesh, sucking one side deep into his mouth and using his tongue to lash her clit before sucking down the other.
Her fingers no longer resist him but push him deeper into her soft center.
This female who will not have him.
Driving her hard, he slides his hands beneath her bare ass and lifts her hips, bringing her pussy to his mouth like a starving man attends a banquet. Sucking, licking and lapping, Kiel nips her sensitive pussy lips with his teeth, not enough to break the skin but enough for sensation.
Camille’s tension breaks through his sexual frenzy. “I like that,” she says in a barely audible voice.
Kiel momentarily freezes. She does? Kiel does more of the small nips in between long licks, entrance to clit.
Camille moans, shoving his head at her.
His smile is satisfied, and he begins to ride her clit hard, his fangs elongate, body already sensing her impending orgasm. She will explode, and he will take her blood as he fills her with his essence.
Kiel should not. But he must have something of hers. If it cannot be the channel of her delectable cunt he longs to fill, it must be the wine of her body.
“Kiel!” Her legs shiver alongside his head.
He slams a digit inside so deeply he feels the end as her delicious wetness trembles around his drenched finger. Kiel pumps hard, nipping at her plump pussy lips, and jams his tongue at her swollen clit while relentlessly thrusting his finger.
Body tensing, Camille screams.
Turning his head unerringly to the vein that pulses beside her sex, Kiel strikes.
She moans, her legs falling open as he moves more deeply between them, gulping greedy pulls of her blood.
Her fingers slip from his hair, and Camille falls still.
Kiel has perhaps taken too much.
In smooth reversal, his fangs close down for blood siphoning and return with his essence, giving the healing dose as the heart pumps what he offers in triple time throughout her body.
He stays between her legs for long moments, his release having come at the end of hers. As his seed sprayed out between his legs, his healing essence came a second time along with another course of seed.
Spent, Kiel smooths his tongue over the wounds to heal the deep punctures and stands from between the female's legs.
Licking his finger of her juices, Kiel admits this is the finest sexual event of his life.
Surprisingly, pain was only a small part.
Looking down at her bare spread pussy, he leans forward just as she's coming to, pressing a slow, wet kiss at her exact center.
“Oh my God,” Camille says in a shaky whisper. “I think I've died and been revived.” Her eyes meet his. “I can't move, I'm just flashing you all over the place.”
Kiel says nothing, but knowing how weak she still is, he carefully closes her legs and lifts her into his arms.
“I feel like a fool for having said all those righteous things before when you just blew one of my fuses with that... what you did to me,” she ends quietly.
Kiel doesn't understand all that she says with the human speech. One thing is certain: If she does not want to be his female, he will have his way with her as much as she'll allow.
Females are an addiction to his kind.
Camille lays her head against his chest with a sigh and says, “Thank you for healing me.” In a very soft voice she adds, “Thank you for the other.”
Her limp body is completely sated.
Kiel has an overwhelming urge to say something, do something tender or kind. An act or word that will show this is more than just healing her.
In the end, he doesn't. Just because he pleasured Camille doesn't erase her words of recrimination from before, regardless of her most recent comment to the contrary.
She doesn't need a “guy.” Nor does she want offspring.
Camille Becker is not the female for him, no matter how right her body feels against his, how sweet her pussy, how beautiful her face, and how keen her mind.
Kiel will return her to the clan, and there, her transition will be sorted.
At least, that is what he tells himself.
Chapter 27
Talyn
G iving a helpless shrug, I say, “I did what I could. Paige seemed open to the entire thing, but Camille Becker is a different story.”
Merck frowns. “Makes a difference the woolly and the First are here together and she's a bit younger.”
I frown. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Don't get touchy.” Merck's blue eyes bore through me.
“Right.” I sigh. “It's just sometimes I feel like the new females are being thrown to the wolves.”
Merck rolls his baby blues. “Not amusing, Talyn.”
I smirk, putting my hands at my hips. “I feel as though I came here for nothing.”
One of my two mates shakes his head. “No, offering sound facts to new females allows them a point-of-reference so they're not...”
“Adrift,” Drake fills in, taking Declan from my hold and smoothly shifting him to a broad shoulder to burp. It had not always been so automatic, but the males are such a support networknow. Cara sleeps in Merck's arms, and I fold mine across my tired body. “I feel really solid about Paige LaRue. I don't think she understands what's in store for her, but the woolly—Jac—he's very intent on the union. Drest is First, so it's a streamlined transition from his perspective.” I shrug a shoulder and continue, “Hell, they've probably arrived at the clan by now.”
“Then why the frustration?” Drake asks, using a hand to rub soft circles on Declan's back.
He's rewarded by a huge belch. The males smile. Excellent.
“I guess I thought I'd get through to Camille Becker, her being close to my age.”
Drake's oblong pupils appear to fold within his citrine irises as he blinks slowly. “Camille is more set in her ways, less malleable to the change. She believed she would be past this.”
I tuck a wisp of hair behind my ear and nod. I'd told them how she reacted. “That wild card First—”
“Kiel,” Merck says with just a hint of growl to his voice.
The tone alerts me. “What?”
As a Lycan, Merck has a sense of smell the rest of us can only dream about. “I don't know. Something is off with his scent.”
“Off?” Drake asks, moving Declan to the opposite shoulder and beginning the burping process anew.
“Yeah,” Merck says slowly, “Can't put my finger on it, but there's something.”
“He will heal that female—sexually.”
I laugh softly. “I didn't mention that tidbit; too many truths in too short a time.”
Merck gives a low whistle. “That might not go as planned.” The corners of his lips twitch.
“Or it might go much better than anyone can imagine.” Drake smirks, the males exchanging a full look of perfect understanding.
I walk to my mates, sliding my arms around their bodies, so grateful for all they give me, which is all of them.
Drest
“I don't scent the interlopers,” I say, scanning the horizon as the sun begins to dip, chilling the area.
“Don't love the rocks—too much to hide behind,” Jac notes.
Paige sighs in my arms. I've carried her maybe one hundred kilometers.
“Woolly?”
Jac rolls his expressive, large brown eyes. “Yeah—First.”
I scowl at him. Force of habit. “Would you take Paige so I might hunt?”
“Yeah,” his eyes roam the wild landscape again, dense patches of pine trees interspersed with boulders of all sizes. “Don't see McDonald's around here.”
Carefully, I transfer Paige to Jac, and she hardly stirs.
We will not wake her from her deep, healing sleep until food is available.
My lips pull. Yes. Wouldn't it be good to rack up more credits and not hunt? Even as I think it, I scent deer, going gorillan instantly.
“Hey, man!” Jac says, dancing away from the spillage of my shift.
But I am already tracking.
Animals avoid us, but there is no escape. I have a male buck down and gored before it began to know the threat which hunted it.
With a whistle that sounds like a hawk, I signal my position to Jac, and after ten minutes, he lumbers down the embankment where the animal inconveniently rolled.
Having sliced open the body cavity, I am munching away on the heart as Jac comes to stand above me.
“That's sick, man,” I flick a cursory look his way.
“Lay our female down.”
When Paige is settled, I slowly rub a finger of fresh heart blood beneath her nose.
Eyelids flip open, and she stirs.
“Hungry?” I ask.
Paige looks at the gutted deer, and a look of mild distaste crosses her features.
Her gorillan features, though delicate, are wonderful to behold.
“Don't look at the food with your human mind but with your new form's.”
Jac and I watch the emotional play over her features. “I'm hungry,” Paige finally admits.
“Then eat, my female.”
She gives a cursory look to Jac. “What about you?”
“I'm vegan,” Jac says, grinning.
“Oh, yeah. Woolly mammoth.”
“That's okay. I can kill with the best of them. I just don't want to eat any of it.”
Paige gives me a final look before I hand over the liver.
It's still warm.
Jac
Jac loads a sated Paige on his back, and she holds on tightly.
They had literally watched her body healing before their eyes.
She ate the organ meats and laid back right beside the buck when she had taken her fill.
“We can't wait long,” Drest had said, his anxious eyes taking in the deepening twilight.
Jac's with him. The sooner they're at the clan and safely ensconced, the better.
He has a feeling that though he's prehistoric, in the end, it will be them moving on to the clan of First Species.
That's fine. Jac never thought he'd have a female. Though he has not officially “bred” her, he knows that he will be the next to own her body as Drest did.
When their seed is planted, then an offspring is possible. But the deep satisfaction with transitioning a female is a memory he'll never forget.
The thought gives Jac all the motivation and confidence necessary to make the last three hours of the hike to the prehistoric count.
Paige will be less attractive to the Mutables now that she's changed, now that the seed of other males has been planted deep.
That fact alone doesn't mean that they won't try.
The common thread of that has Jac in his partial form, covering ground with his wide solid gait as Drest fans out behind them, zig-zagging to make sure he takes in the rear position and they don't face any surprises.
No one can have Paige.
Especially in the last thirty minutes of the journey before they're within the bosom of the prehistoric.
Regardless, Jac and Drest remain vigilant. Because stranger things have been known to happen.
Chapter 28
Roiel
R oiel did not understand a plan had been forming in his mind until he saw the girl.
Now a female.
Travis and Lark tense simultaneously, gripping the cheap laminate edge of the dinette where the hyenas had just consumed their weight in meat.
Roiel meets the eyes of Casek a nanosecond before he scents him.
His human form shivers, and for a brief moment, Roiel spots gorillan, and then the mirage solidifies.
Deciding what to do is painfully simple. A relief. Why he hadn't planned this from the beginning, Roiel wasn't sure.
Probably, self-preservation had something to do with it.
Standing from the table, he says to Travis in a low voice full of tension that is unfeigned, “Go outside. We will ambush the two—take Casek down first then subdue the girl.”
“The female,” Travis says in a voice gone low with the sick need of his kind.
Roiel was afraid of this—is afraid of much more.
His unrevealing might be coming sooner than he planned.
Jael
I'd been so starved I could die.
Leaning my head back on the rounded top of the bench where I sit, I pat my flat stomach, loving that I had three of what the menu said was a cheeseburger.
Weird name.
But the smell was heavenly. After only eating raw meat for my entire life (which was greatly abbreviated) the cooked piece of savory meat topped by a thing called cheese had been earth-sent.
Casek, who I'm just starting to get to know, had held a secret smile on his face as I devoured our meal. It included a strange and also flavorful helping of cut potatoes called fries. They were salty and divine on my tongue.
Don't even get me started on the milkshake.
“I could have that again.”
Casek's sleek golden brows rise, and I'm taken again by how handsome he is. “Right now?”
I quickly shake my head. “No, I'm so full—but it was yummy.”
Casek stares at my lips as I lick the remaining salt from the plump flesh.
“What?”
“You've entered your heat.”
I try not to be embarrassed by his raw assessment. Fail. The flush of my body surfaces, and I'm sure with my fair skin, it appears as though I have a sunburn.
No. The First Species escapee told me I'm ready to breed. I knew it was coming. Seiger had thought anytime in the next year because, in human years, I'm only three.
But a true First Species or prehistoric female matures rapidly, only slowing when she reaches her first heat.
There were signs, but I kept things well-hidden from Seiger. Maybe too well.
Now I'm with Casek.
“What does that mean for us then?”
Casek's eyes skate from mine.
“No way, you don't get to let that big cat out of the bag then not say anything more. Without embarrassing me, why would you say that aloud?” I play with the last fry that's on a stacked third plate with two empties beneath it.
“Do not turn around.”
Oh no. Like an itch I can't scratch, grief clogs my throat. I'd stupidly allowed myself to feel safe. Just Casek and me running from a horrible future I had been innocently placed in by destiny or fate—whatever.
Now it
's caught up with me.
“Mutables?”
Casek gives a casual nod. “I stated the obvious because you need to know that I understand—and they will as well. It's not a simple matter of reacquiring you now, Jael. There would be some Mutable who will not be able to resist attacking you before your return to Seiger.”
My body tenses. “Let's get out of here then,” I say in a fierce whisper.
“There are five hyenas and one donkey.”
A donkey. Figures. It's like Seiger can't breathe without his donkeys. At least it's not Dirk. “Can we escape?”
Casek looks at me in the eyes, slowly shaking his head. “No.”
“You couldn't lie to me?” My lip quivers, and I want to cry. “I can't go back, Casek—I can't.” Shoulders dropping, I hang my head. “I had hoped.”
“I had as well.” His golden eyes glitter. “I can kill most of them.”
I lift my head. “Maybe I can fight them?”
Casek gives a sad smile. “If your heat came second and your transition first, there might be a chance, but that's not the way it works with a pureblood.”
Yeah, I think sadly. If I was human, I could be transitioned first then shift. A First female and male might have a chance against all the jerk Mutables.
Casek frowns, intense gaze on a point over my shoulder.
“Earth, what now?”
“The donkey approaches.”
“What—why?”
I sit up straight, knotting my fingers on my lap.
“Do not turn.”
It takes everything I am not to turn and look at my future captor.
“Casek,” a deep voice says from my side.
Casek leans back, eyes slimming on who I assume is the donkey.
“Why do you not attack—why do the hyenas wait outside the human establishment?”
Fuck this.
I turn and look up at a man so handsome he takes my breath. This is the donkey? I think of all the donkeys I've seen in human form and how they're always ugly. Always. Crude featured with muddied coloring, they match their insides.
But not this one. How come I've never seen him?
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