Feral (8 page)

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Authors: Sheri Whitefeather

BOOK: Feral
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“Are you excited?” Noah asked.
Her pussy clenched. “Yes.”
“Let me fuck you,” he whispered, using the voice from her fantasies. “Let me fuck you while he fucks her mouth.”
She struggled to think about something else, but she couldn’t. Between the hard, hot fellatio and the craving Noah incited, she was losing it.
He told her, “If you don’t say no, I’m going to do it.”
One simple word. That was all it would take to refuse him. Yet Jenny remained silent.
A moment ticked by.
Noah lowered her dress, making it shimmy down her body and pool at her feet.
“Step out of it,” he said.
She obeyed him, just as Allison continued to obey Vince. In and out he went, using her mouth for his pleasure.
“Your panties are next,” Noah said.
Once again, all she had to do was tell him no. But it went unspoken. He peeled away what was left of her modesty.
As he stood behind her and roamed his hands along her curves, she gazed at Allison’s naked body. The other woman remained on her knees.
Noah reached between Jenny’s legs and probed the wetness. There was no denying that she was ready for him. She put her hands on the glass to brace herself.
The activity in the bedroom changed. Vince made Allison slow down, prolonging his orgasm.
Noah unzipped his pants, and the rasp of his zipper created a prominent sound amid the silence.
“I’m not going to use protection,” he said. “Normally I do, but since you know what I am, it isn’t necessary to pretend that it matters. Exchanging body fluids with me won’t harm you.”
Jenny had never had sex without a condom, and the notion of being flesh to flesh, especially with someone who wasn’t altogether human, was strangely thrilling.
He entered her, mimicking the motion of Vince and Allison. Jenny fanned her fingers. Within the fraction of a heartbeat, Noah was purring.
The tips of her breasts grew taut under his touch. Her blood simmered. Her thoughts dazed. He increased the tempo, moving at a powerful pace. As if on cue, Vince urged Allison to resume a hard, fast sucking.
Noah braced himself against the window, too, but he was no longer purring. The noise he made was much more dangerous, a cross between a masculine groan and catlike hiss.
She pushed back against his ferocious thrusts, and he bared his claws.
Vince glanced up for a second. Had he heard Noah scratching against the glass? Whatever the case, he maintained his greedy position, with his legs widespread and Allison on the ground before him. She sucked and sucked, taking him all the way to the back of her throat. He was even holding her there, making damn sure she swallowed every inch.
The air in Jenny’s lungs whooshed out. Noah was full hilt, too, literally fucking her breathless.
“Turn your head.”
She struggled to respond. “What?”
“So I can kiss you.”
She thought about how sharp his canines were, but she did his bidding, giving herself over to him.
His kiss was rough and demanding, and although he didn’t bite her, it was touch and go, with his tongue darting in and out of her mouth and his teeth nearly clipping her.
This time, Jenny ran her nails along the glass. But Noah didn’t. He managed to retract his claws.
Then, suddenly, he withdrew and swung her around, putting them face-to-face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
He reentered her, and she went lustfully mad. He was teasing her, keeping her away from the voyeurism. He could see the other couple, but she couldn’t.
Noah clutched her ass and squeezed her cheeks. She wrapped one leg around him to keep herself steady. Or maybe it was to get closer to him, to fuse her undulating body to his.
“Vince is coming,” he said.
So was Jenny. Every cell in her body raged.
“Tell me how,” she pleaded. “Tell me.”
He didn’t reveal the mystery.
As Jenny went crazy and climaxed, she imagined it both ways, with Vince spilling into Allison’s mouth, then pulling out to splash the rest of it on her.
Noah kissed Jenny one last time, and he came, too, emitting a soft, sensual growl and drenching her with white-hot liquid.
Afterward, his shapeshifter image spun before her eyes. By the time she summoned the strength to grab her clothes off the floor and turn around, Vince and Allison were gone.
Leaving nothing but an empty bedroom.
Six
B
eing with Jenny was absolute nirvana.
And now that it was over, Noah wanted to pull away, to disengage himself from the feeling. But he couldn’t, not completely. So he took her to his private quarters, preparing for the inevitable discussion.
But first he offered her a quick tour of the apartment: a spacious living room, two luxurious bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a media room, and a cantilever balcony in his bedroom that overlooked the city. He also had a rooftop pool and Jacuzzi, but he didn’t take her up there.
As soon as they were back in the living room, she asked, “Why did you tell me the truth about yourself? Was it to scare me? To make me more interested in you? Or is it because of my background of working with cats?”
He hated to admit this part. “It was because of what the
sapiya
said to me in a dream.”
“The
sapiya
?” she parroted.
“They’re magic stones, and that’s what they’re called in my culture. But you have to be careful how you treat them. If you don’t respect their medicine, they can turn on you.” He frowned. “They told me that I was supposed to show you what I am, that you were supposed to know the truth. But I don’t know why.”
“I can’t imagine why, either.” She went quiet for a second, as if she were contemplating the situation. “But there must be a reason.”
He wasn’t about to mention the romantic crap Coyote had drummed up. “I only did what they told me to do because I didn’t want them causing something bad to happen to you.”
She seemed surprised. “You were concerned about protecting me?”
He shrugged. He didn’t want her making a big deal of it. “The
sapiya
are strange little objects. They can jump around like fleas and multiply by themselves. They don’t normally appear in dreams, and I’ve never owned any of them, so it’s weird that they took an interest in me.”
“How does someone own them?”
“You have to catch one, and once you have it, it has to be watered with fresh dew and fed with animal blood.”
“Why would someone want the responsibility of owning a
sapiya
if they’re so temperamental?”
“Because they can be used to attract other people to you. They can bring anyone you want to your door. But I wasn’t asking for their help.”
“Yet in a sense, they brought me to your door. Am I supposed to go home later? Or am I spending the night?”
“Do you want to stay?”
She nodded. She seemed to be getting more comfortable around him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. He preferred to keep a bit of edge between them.
He knew he should send her home, especially with the unsolved
sapiya
motive lingering in the air, but he found himself saying, “You can stay.”
“Is it all right if I take a bath? I need to clean up after what we did.”
Sticky sex. “Yeah, me, too. You can use the guest bath, and I’ll use the master.”
She looked disappointed. Was she hoping to climb into the tub together and wash each other’s backs?
Noah didn’t alter the plan. He familiarized her with the guest bath and its complimentary toiletries. The soap was fresh milled, the shampoo was lemon scented, and the pre-pasted toothbrushes were disposable.
He got her some fresh towels and handed her a flowing red robe with the Aeonian logo. “You can keep it if you’d like to have it.”
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Why don’t we meet in the kitchen after we bathe? We can have a nightcap.”
“I’m not really in the mood for alcohol. Do you think we could have hot chocolate or something like that?”
“I’ve got herb tea.”
“I want to keep talking, too. I want to know how you became a shapeshifter.”
“I know. We’ll get to that.”
He left and went to the master bath. Returning to his human form, he got in the shower and scrubbed clean.
About five minutes later, he shut off the water. As the steam dissipated, he dried off, slicked his hair back, and slipped on a thick cotton robe.
Wrapped in the dark, heavy fabric, Noah arrived in the kitchen first, but Jenny soon followed, soft and elegant in the crimson silk.
“You look the part,” he said.
“What part is that?”
“Mistress of the immortal manor.”
Her hair, slightly damp at the ends, waved softly around her face, and a slight residue of mascara remained on her eyes. “Is that what I am?”
“For tonight, I guess you are.”
A second later, she asked, “Just how immortal are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you actually going to live forever?”
“I haven’t died yet.”
“How old are you?”
“A hundred and sixty. Give or take a few.”
She gaped at him. “I assumed that you became a shapeshifter around the time you opened the club.”
“You assumed wrong.” He retrieved the tea. As he riffled through the box, he made an uncharacteristic journey back to his youth. “We used to drink sofkee when I was growing up.”
“What’s that?”
“A beverage made from corn, hominy, rice, arrowroot, or grits, and boiled down into a hot soup. It was served at every meal. We drank it in between meals, too. My descendants are probably still drinking some form of it.”
She got bright-eyed. “Can we make some?”
He should have kept his mouth shut. “Let’s just have tea and forget it.”
“I’ll bet there’s a modern recipe online we can follow.” She dashed off to get her cell phone, which she’d apparently left in the bathroom with her purse and clothes. She returned and started looking around online. “How about this? It uses rice and cornstarch.”
“I don’t have any cornstarch.”
She found another recipe. “This one uses baking soda. Do you have that?”
Would she keep trying until the right ingredients appeared in his cabinet or until she finagled a trip to an all-night market to get them? “Yes, I’ve got that.”
Against his better judgment, he agreed to help her with the recipe.
They brought the water and baking soda to a boil and added the rice.
“It says to let the rice overcook,” she said. “So the sofkee is the consistency of runny oatmeal.”
“This isn’t going to be the big cultural experience you’re expecting,” he warned. “You’re going to think it tastes like shit.”
“I’m having sex with a hundred-and-sixty-year-old shapeshifter who drank it when he was young. I have a right to be curious. Besides, I’m the mistress of the manor, remember? Tonight is my night.”
“You’re going to wish you opted for the tea.”
She ignored him and went back to the recipe. “It says that you’re not supposed to add salt, pepper, or other seasonings or it won’t be genuine sofkee.”
“We used to make another hot drink from boiling tomatoes with summer fruits and sweetening it with sugar.”
“Really? That sounds good.”
“Yeah, well, too late. We’ve already got the rice goop going.” He reached for two coffee mugs, and when the sofkee was ready, he ladled it into the hearty containers and handed her one.
She took a small sip. “It’s nice. Bland. Easy on the stomach.” She went for another sip. “I actually kind of like it.”
It tasted like home to him, making him too damned aware of what he’d lost.
“Can we drink this in bed?” she asked.
He gripped his cup. “I guess.”
They entered his room, and he removed his robe, got into bed, and draped the sheet across his lap. She got under the sheet, too, but she kept her silky garment on. Both of them sat upright, with pillows propped behind their heads. He could feel her looking at him.
She asked, “How old were you when you became immortal?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“That’s how old I am, only I’ll be turning twenty-nine next year and you won’t.” She went pensive. “So what’s the story? How did it happen?”
“It was the woman in Mexico. She blazed into the cantina one night and flirted with me. I followed her outside, and we went into the woods and ravished the hell out of each other. After we fucked, she turned into a mountain lion and attacked me.”
Jenny set her sofkee on the nightstand. “A half lion like you are now or a full-blown lion like the felids at my rescue?”
“She was like your cats, only different because of her ability to become human.” He forged ahead. Now that he’d started this, he wanted to finish it. “It was quick and brutal, but it seemed as if it was happening in slow motion. I could feel her ripping into my flesh. I could even feel my blood streaming down my body and staining the ground. I tried to fight her off, but there was nothing I could do to stop her. I blacked out, and when I came to, it was morning and I was slashed to bits and staring at the sun, nauseous and confused.” He paused. “I passed out again, and the next time I woke up, I was being treated by the local doctor. He had a little room in his house that served as his clinic. Someone had found me and brought me there.”
“Did you tell the doctor what happened?”
“That the animal that mauled me was a shapeshifter? He would have thought I was delusional. Or possessed or Lord knows what else. I already looked like a monster, swollen, bruised, and broken, and my chances of survival seemed slim. I think the doctor was hoping for my sake that I didn’t make it. My body was viciously scarred, and my face was horribly disfigured. I was unrecognizable, even to myself.”

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