Reluctant Mates - 21 Paranormal Romance Stories (Werewolf, Vampire, Minotaur and Monster collection) (46 page)

Whiskey’s movement is like mercury across a table – fluid, smooth, and just a little otherworldly. The cat-man is slowly pushing himself along my forehead, down bridge of my nose, as breath trembles in his throat. The smooth underside of his cock runs the entire length of my face and all I want is to wrap my lips around him and see if he tastes as wonderfully strange as he looks.

I let out a whimpering plea, but he ignores me, continuing to slide his heavy dick up and down, up and down. His brother’s fingers keep turning their haunting, thrilling, captivating circles inside me, but now he’s got his palm pushed against my opening and grinds sweetly on my button, harder when his fingers are at their deepest.

Finally, Whiskey’s manhood comes close enough to my mouth that I can stick my tongue out and just barely slide it around him. He lets out a groan as a trickle of his juice runs out of the tip and down to my waiting tongue that’s rasping around his ridge and curling against him to try and pull him deeper.

Something, though, strikes me as strange – with the wolves, every time one of them did something new to my virginal body, played with me in some new way or scratched me or bit me or anything, it seemed to awaken my senses and make me see and feel the world differently. After all, that’s when I first noticed the weird, almost psychic-sort of green-tinged vision. But with these, that doesn’t happen. My body feels good, thrills run up and down my arms, over my swollen, aching, expectant nipples and down between my legs, but my senses never awaken in the same way.

I forget all about this as another finger stuffs inside me along with the others. Whip pushes me in three directions at once, spreading them out and bringing them back together to let me recover for a moment before doing it again and again and again. Sweat beads up on my forehead and I push my hips up to force him deeper.

Oh God how good it feels to get stretched out, violated and forced like this. I know very well that that if something goes bad and I enrage these creatures, there’s nothing I can do but take whatever they give. I’m bound and held, there’s no escape. I twist my feet and hands, relish the biting pain that shoots up my arms and clenches the skin at the base of my neck.

Whiskey pulls his cock away from me again, sliding it along my sweaty forehead.

“Come back,” I whisper to him, “don’t go.”

He gets a grin that’s partway between eager and savage, and leans forward a little further, so that his tip brushes against my bottom lip, teasing me, turning my desire for him into a pool of lava burning in my chest. His fingers tighten around my throat and for a moment I’m afraid he’s going to choke me.

And then I get afraid that he’s not.

“Yes, yes! Do it,” I beg, “wrap those fingers around my neck. Don’t let me breathe, don’t let me move. Wrap those fingers around me and choke me and shove your cock in my mouth. Now, now, now, please...”

He shoots a glance at his brother, I suppose looking for advice, but Whip is too interested in dragging his sandpaper tongue up my inner thighs almost to my sex, and then tasting the little bit of juice that’s pooled up around his fingers. Hungrily, he laps away, unwilling, or maybe unable, to stop himself.

Whiskey moans and tightens his grip. I begin to scream as his fingers close, cutting off my air. I know I asked for it, but the reality of it happening terrifies me – to the point that I start writhing around more and more the tighter his grip becomes.

“Shh...” he taunts, “you gonna hurt yourself thrashing around like that.”

A menacing finger touches my wrist.

“Keep that up and you might end up cut. Nobody wants that. Nobody wants them pretty, white, sweet wrists to get hurt. So quiet down.” He squeezes harder.

I feel blood pounding in my temples, just like it does before one of my headaches, but at the same time, the heat in my core starts to bubble up, radiating out in all directions at once, bringing to life every inch of my body, every hair on my head. I can’t believe how incredible this helplessness feels, even as he squeezes again and my vision flickers green and explodes to life.

That’s it – every time something new happens – that’s the key, that’s...

My thoughts stop and what little breath I can pull through my nose hitches in my chest. Fire between my legs trickles up my belly, makes my nipples so hard they push against Whiskey’s palm, and he grins. With my new eyes, my magical ones, I see that he, just like the wolves, is hiding a stunningly beautiful human form underneath the savage animal skin he wears. But with these creatures, it seems that whatever shape they take is a choice, whereas the wolves are cursed to theirs by something I don’t understand – but that seems to be tied to that dragonfly woman.

The pieces of the puzzle are all here, dangling in front of me, but the sides don’t fit. It’s a jigsaw puzzle where all the holes are round and the bits square.

And then, as the raw, sensual overload pulses me, inside and out, Whip’s fingers drive deeper than ever and his tongue replaces his palm, pushing, lapping, and gently scratching at my clit with its thrillingly rough surface.

“I can’t...something’s...Whiskey,” the twisting panther-man says, “something’s happening.”

Before he replies, the monster leans back his head. Cords in his neck and at his shoulders tighten up against his beautiful skin. His shoulders bulge, tight and hard on either side of his neck and he squeezes my throat so hard that I almost cry for him to stop. The breath I took a moment before is caught on the way out, and he circles his hips, dragging the tip of his cock around my lips in a slow, wet circle.

I twist my arms, again relishing the hot trickle of pain running to my shoulders, and silently scream out when Whip’s tongue drives inside me with his pumping fingers, then goes back to my clit. The sound of my juice dribbling out of my cunt around his hands reaches my ears, a naughty, slick, hot-and-wet rhythmic pistoning that feels almost as good to hear as it does to experience otherwise.

“Fuck me, there’s something goin’ on with her!” Whiskey cries out as his cock sinks between my open lips as I gasp for air and whip my tongue back and forth along the smooth, almost hairless underside. I can’t breathe at all, not even a little. Panic starts to set in, even though I have plenty of air left for a few moments. “Beg me! Beg me to let you breathe, faerie, or I’ll strangle you dead! I won’t let you cast your damn spell on me or my brother!”

My mouth opens and closes silently around his thick, golden-brown heat. Whiskey shoves himself deeper. His tip is brushing against the opening of my desperate throat. I try again to suck air down my nose and around the cock in my throat, but can’t. There’s no air and no room. I feel myself start to fade.

“Hey!” Whip shouts, snapping his brother out of the rage he fell into, and the massively powerful monster releases his grip just enough for me to suck air.

I gasp and sputter, hard, as breath fills my burning lungs. He only gives me a moment of respite before he clamps down again, stopping short of cutting me off entirely, hovering right on the edge where pleasure becomes panic.

Once again, the green tinges my vision and I get a nose full of his spicy, wild, savage musk. When he runs his cock even deeper and threatens to push it down my throat, I feel the heat of his balls, so heavy and sweet against my face. It makes me close my mouth around his dick, suck him harder and try to pull him deeper, so badly do I want to feel him further in.

“Both,” I gasp. “Both in... me... deep!”

My heart pounds in my chest as a cock and three fingers push so hard on me that I think I might split in two. I scream and moan, making as much sound as possible, but mostly just rumbling deep in my throat, right around the head of Whiskey’s prick as he shoves it deeper and deeper with each passing second.

Whip’s tongue digs, slipping inside me and curling along my front wall, going right to the place that his fingers thrilled so deep and good a second before. All the while, his fingers twist and turn and stretch and I can barely control myself anymore, my hips writhing this way and that, my nipples are hard and so stiff that even just breeze blowing sends chills up and down my body.

I manage another grunted, pleasured mumble, and Whiskey
finally
pushes deep enough that his sack falls heavy across my face for a blissed second before he pulls away.

“We can’t do this, Whip. We gotta finish in her, that’s what we gotta do. You know what Pa said. I’m about to...unnngg...” He groans then takes a breath and lets his head roll around his shoulders for a moment before collecting himself and pulling the rest of the way out. He leaves my mouth and my tongue follows unconsciously, not wanting him to leave, not even for a second. The ache he put in me turns to a void that wants him back, hurting more without him than it ever did with.

Whip looks up from between my legs, his previously glassy eyes blazing with an intensity that frightens me. For a second it seems like he’s going to attack, either me or his brother, I can’t tell which. He flashes his teeth, licks them. My pussy juice glistens on his terrible, beautiful face.

“Ah!” I cry as his fingers dig deeper, harder, more desperately inside me and threaten to push me into a climax. “S-stop! You’re making me...! Ohhh...”

As my ecstatic cries fill the air, he curls those big, thick fingers again and I feel my body begin to quake. Then, his brother gives me a hard squeeze and drags his fingernails from my belly to my throat. The burning trail of his scratch shoots electric shocks around both sides of my body, and that one motion – that one sensation – takes away the very last vestiges of my self-control.

The muscles in my neck and on my stomach clench up tight. I feel my cunt grip hard on Whip’s fingers even as he churns them inside me, seeming to push against the pulses. I take a deep breath, the first in I can’t remember how long, and as the air fills my lungs, my body relaxes into a shaking, wonderful convulsion.

“Now! Get her up! Pa, he’ll kill us if he finds out we ruined everything.” One of them, I can’t tell which in the throes of my deepening passion, shouts.

Next I know, the vines binding my ankles are torn away, but I can still thrill myself by twisting my arms and feeling the deep, raw bite on my wrists. I can’t stop, and I don’t know why. The wonderful burning that crawls up my arms and prickles my tits every time, I just can’t stop.

Back and forth, I wrench my arms against the restraints, wanting so, so badly to feel it again, to feel the pain and the hurt and the pleasure all at once.

My ankles are taken in hand and I feel the ground disappear from underneath me again. Briefly I wonder if I’ve started floating again, but then I feel a well-muscled torso underneath me as I’m relaxed back down. Squeezing my legs together, a hard, thick cock separates my thighs, but whoever it belongs to trembles when I grip them and jerk my hips.

Up and down, the monster slides along my sex, his tip pushing my folds apart and almost spearing me each time he strokes against my body, but never actually doing it.

“Is she ready?” Whiskey’s voice sounds hollowed with desire.

“I...I donno,” Whip says right underneath my ear as I bounce myself up him again, then squeeze on the way down. “But I can’t take much more of this. She’s gonna have to be.”

My arms, twisted at such a terrible angle, stretch and thrill every time I move. I raise my head and look down my body to the monsters between my legs. My whole chest is flushing with passion, my nipples so hard I feel they might burst. As two groping hands close on them, squeezing hard, with fingers on either side of aching peaks, rubbing and scratching and rasping, I let my head fall backwards against the ground and moan as loud as I ever have.

One of the beasts cries out a wild, horrible sound, and his tip pushes against my sex-wet pussy, then inside. The tiny hairs that line his prick push and pull against my own, and send thrills up my walls each time he pulls back. Little by little – halfway now – he drives inside my needy cunt, stretching me around him and making me want more.

“More,” I moan, “give me more! Give me more, more, more...” My voice fades as I relax again, unable to keep up the groaning, the twisting, and the squeezing with the muscles in my pussy. My orgasm is not even peaking yet, just clenching and stretching and turning me to weak-kneed pudding.

I try to push my hips up, but there’s no point. My entire body is too weak, too pleasured, to manage anything at all. Collapsing down, my weight fully on Whip’s muscular, delicious body, I feel his chest and his chiseled stomach rise with each breath and fall with every long, hot exhale.

My heart beats hard, and I count one, two, three along with each deepening stroke of the panther’s cock inside me, I moan the numbers out loud, not even really realizing what I’m doing.

My breathing is shallow, hot and quick. Heart is pounding in my chest, and a hot slick of goose prickles covers my body. Whiskey pistons himself deep, his whole shaft stretches my cunt sweetly around him.

“So big!” I cry out. “So, so, so big! More! Faster!”

He snarls a grin that I barely see out the corner of my eye and just as I relax my head again, two hands fall on my tits, squeeze, and knead, before dragging down my stomach and settling on my hips. Tightening, gripping so hard I feel bruises, I groan out his name, and then Whip’s, in long, slow, breathy whispers that curl off my lips like smoke.

Another set of hands, coming up from underneath me, wraps around the swell of my breasts and squeezes hard, thumbs brushing over the tops and wrapping me in chills.

“This can’t get any better,” I moan. “It’s perfect.”

I hear a grunt between my legs, and then a soft, almost cruel chuckle.

My body begins to shake deeper and harder, and just then – just when I think there’s no possible way for the intensity to grow any brighter, or hotter, another thick shape pushes itself between my legs.

“Wh – what is that?” I groan, feeling my pussy stretch just a little more. “It feels so, so good.”

“It’s Whip,” Whiskey says with that menacing grin at the end of his voice. “We gotta make good and sure.”