Shifters of Grrr 1 (69 page)

Lucy was not just the Rabbit, or the Dragon, or a possible
Shèhúnzéi
.

She was his.

Her softness yielded to him, molding to every inch of his body as though they’d been fashioned as one. Could she be the love of one of his past lives? Possibly. Although that didn’t change how he cared for her in this one. This connection, this bond between them, pulsed through him with energy of its own. Severing his ties to her would be like cutting off his hand. Lucy was as much a part of his body, of his soul, as any other piece of him.

She moaned in her sleep, and his cock jerked in response. It was well into the afternoon and naptime was over.

He nudged her awake with playful kisses along her hairline, his hand dipping down to stroke between her thighs. Her silken flesh welcomed his fingers as he slipped inside her wetness.

Her eyes flashed open. Her breasts rose and fell in heavy pants while she arched into his hand.

“Do you admit it?” He quirked a brow at her, at how fast she’d turned needy.

“Admit what?” Her sluggish sleepy voice rasped.

“That you’re my licentious little Rabbit?” He chuckled and nipped her ear. “Or maybe, my licentious little Dragon?”

“I don’t—
oh
!” A moan escaped her as her greedy sex clenched around his thrusting fingers.

His cock throbbed in response and, for the first time ever, he hungered to come all over a woman, inside and out. Releasing his
jīng
over every inch of her. Not doing so would take every ounce of control he possessed but, even if it killed him, he’d not ejaculate inside her. Definitely not without protection.

“Damn, woman, you’re going to test every limit of mine, aren’t you?” He shook his head, seeking the discipline that faded more each time he reached for it.

“I want to watch you come,” she murmured, skimming her hand along his cock. Thick lashes lifted, revealing the will of a seductress.

Damn. He was screwed. Or rather, he was about to be.

“It must have taken a lot of orgasms to learn to be able to control that.” She licked her lips and shifted to bend her glistening mouth to the tip of his cock. Her pink tongue swiped, flicking across her lips first and then the slit of his shaft.

He groaned at the control that slipped further every time she moistened her lips.

“One time, Sheng. Let me taste you.”

“Fuck.” His abs clenched and sweat beaded across his forehead.

Her pretty little mouth descended upon him, swooping onto his cock and sucking him in.

“Never given it up.” His muscles tensed as he struggled to overcome his will.
Jīng
was lost through semen for men and menstrual blood for women. Ejaculating too frequently or without controlling the emission of semen wasted
jīng
energy. That was why he’d never done it with another person. He needed to be in absolute control when he did, to direct the
jīng
energy from his body. When performed properly, ejaculation wouldn’t leave him with a loss of strength.

She lifted her lashes, tugging his hard-on out of her mouth with a loud pop as though sucking on a fucking lollipop. Her soft breasts pillowed his legs. The wetness between her thighs slicked his left calf. His gaze traveled along her nude body, soaking in her perfection.

She cupped his balls and squeezed gently. “Just once. You can’t be in control all the time. Let go. With me.”

The memory of shaming himself in front of the Matchmaker surfaced in his brain, but Lucy wasn’t anything like that witch. True, he’d been driven to this lifestyle by more than humiliation—the elevated energy and virility were bloody priceless—but Lucy had a point.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t ejaculated in years, just not with any woman. He only did it on his terms.

Except that one time in the infirmary closet.

Here she was, asking him to share something with her that he hadn’t with anyone else.

“I don’t share my
jīng
with anyone. Ah, fuck.” He groaned as she snaked her nail up and down his length.

“Don’t you want to?” she murmured and flicked her pink tongue across him, licking him again. The passion between them burned. Sizzled. Scorched. Left him gasping for air.

“Hell, yeah, I do.” He groaned as she drew him into her mouth along with his last ounce of resistance. His balls drew up tight to his body. Intense pressure tingled in the base of his spine.

His hips bucked upward, slamming his cock into her mouth as hot, thick cum shot out of the tip. He didn’t stop thrusting into her mouth until the last drop squeezed from him. Lucy swallowed every bead, sucking on him as though she’d never enjoyed anything more. The orgasm topped every one he’d ever had.

Every. Fucking. One.

Once he finished, his entire body spent, his head crashed back against the sofa pillows. His muscles iced as he drifted into a state of sated bliss. After a minute, the haze faded and his body surged with renewed strength. Vitality. Damn. He’d read during the union of lovemaking, a man could actually convert his spent
jīng
into
qì
—life-force energy—but he’d never tested the theory. Never trusted anyone else to test it with him.

Until Lucy. His heart warmed inside his chest. Hell, by just being Lucy, she’d snapped his chains of control and proven him wrong. Giving himself to her wasn’t a loss.

It was a gain.

“Thank you.” Lucy pressed a kiss to his stomach before crawling back into his arms.

He cleared his tight throat and winked. “No, thank you, little Dragon.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

After Sheng drifted off, Lucy half-slept for a few hours before she snuck out of his grasp. Instead of being sated, she burned with energy.

Was it Sheng’s
jīng
? Or perhaps the knowledge she’d never be the same?

The hunky male sleeping on the couch held her future in his hands. One word from him could make her heart soar.

Or shatter.

Heading to their hut, she wandered into the bathroom. He’d called her “Dragon.” She stepped into the shower and frowned at the glop of shampoo she squirted onto her palm.

His eagerness was justified. She didn’t fault him for being excited to discover the Tiger’s
yang
. She’d be thrilled too, if the nagging burning in her mind would dissipate. Instead, it grew stronger. Her dream of her father haunted her consciousness, more like a memory than a dream. What was she supposed to do with the Dragon?

Deep down, she guessed why he hadn’t told her. Her father had been the one to set her on a bicycle for the first time and give her a push. He’d taught her it was okay to fall down—and how to get right back up. To never be afraid of making mistakes.

She just hoped she didn’t make one now. One that would doom the fate of humanity.

He seemed certain she would figure it out, but no path materialized in her mind.

Other than staying with Sheng.

She smiled as she rinsed her hair, the lathered bubbles sliding over every inch of her well-loved body. Stepping out of the stall, she dried and dressed, this time in capris and a tank top. She snatched a chunk of coconut from the kitchen before heading down onto the terrace where Sheng had meditated earlier.

Clearing her mind might help bring clarity to her next actions. Humid air enveloped her and she grimaced. Moonlight cascaded around her as she wandered down the path. It had to be sometime in the middle of the night.

After munching on the coconut, she slumped onto the warm stones, crossed her legs, and closed her eyes. Opening her mind, she sought the peaceful calm surrounding the Rabbit as Mei had taught her.

Rabbit awakened, hopping to her. In her mind, she stroked the animal until they fused together in a blissful state of awareness.

Once Rabbit calmed, she dug further, searching for the presence of the Dragon.

The opposite of the Rabbit’s timidity, Dragon surged forward, spreading its leathery wings and hovering above the two of them. She bade it to land and Dragon complied. Rabbit bowed its head in deference. Ah, Rabbit was submissive, Dragon dominant.

Neither opposed the other. The harmony inside her persisted.

Not for the first time, she wished these spirits would speak to her, share their wisdom and, yet, they were but animals.

“Why did you leave me?” The rumbling growl broke her meditation. Her eyes jolted open.

Sheng glowered at her, his chest bare and his lower half clad in black pants. He crossed his arms and arched a brow, yet his scowl didn’t lessen.

“I couldn’t sleep anymore. I’m sorry.”

He sank beside her. “Meditating? What answers do you seek?”

Her body swayed into his, drawn into his seductive embrace. He slipped an arm around her, coaxing her against his chest.

“I’m worried about this Dragon thing. Also, I can’t remember our meeting with the Matchmaker.” She twisted her neck and peered at him, but his expression didn’t give anything away. He would make a damn good poker player.

“She’ll contact us in a few days. Until then, you,” he tapped her nose, “leave the worrying to me, okay?”

She bristled at his command. “I can’t help it. This is my body. My
qì
.” Easing out of his embrace, she rose. “I’m not sure what I should do with this...this Dragon.” She grimaced at the sudden rush of uselessness surging through her veins.

He reclined. Brushing his long locks off his forehead, he craned his neck and grinned at her. “Not exactly the life you pictured, huh? What would you have been before the Red Death?”

The question shocked the self-pity from her. The reminder, a sharp, needling sting in her heart. At times, it was easy to forget. In this paradise, the life she’d left behind drifted even farther than half a world away. Like to another galaxy.

She shrugged and took a seat next to him. “A teacher. Kindergarten. I was in the middle of my practicum when the first quarantine was issued.”

“Nice.” His head bobbed. “You would’ve made a great teacher.” The appraisal in his eyes alighted on her with approval, spreading warmth through her veins.

Suddenly, the sultry air outside held no competition to the searing passion between her and Sheng, which his proximity served to amplify. Would this spark always exist between them? Was it an obsessive attraction or did he carry deeper emotions for her?

Where did he stand in
her
heart?

She shoved aside her musings. “What about you? You never speak of your past.”

His gaze darted from hers. The flames flickering between them snuffed out. His past must be painful. A part of her regretted asking, but how would she ever truly know him if he never relinquished his control and shared himself with her?

“Isn’t much to tell.” He hunched forward, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “I never met my father. The rest of my family died in a fire when I was eight. I grew up on the streets until the Matchmaker found me. I was sixteen. She recognized the Tiger within and insisted on showing me another way.”

Lucy sat, stunned into silence as he recounted the events of his life in a dry monotone, shrugging off any emotion as though it didn’t exist. Oh, but it did. In the tensing of his shoulders, in the flat tone of his voice, and even in the depths of his eyes where he no doubt believed he’d
 
wiped out any trace.

She detected his pain, buried so deeply, concealed under layers of training, and honed beneath the edge of a concrete-chiseled control. Hidden, even, in every expression of indifference.

Grief did that to some people. Her throat constricted as she pictured the young boy he’d been, losing his loved ones to unrelenting flames.

“Who did you lose?” She extended her hand and rested it upon his arm. He might not acknowledge his pain, but she did.

“Mother, grandfather, and…” He cleared his throat. “Baby sister.” His hand shot up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

She averted her face because tears formed in his eyes, and he wasn’t the kind of man to shed them. “Why the streets? Why didn’t a relative or the government take you in?”

“To do what?” Icy hatred laced his tone. “Become a burden to those who didn’t want me? I had no relatives. None who would vouch for me, at least. An old woman who probably knew my family suggested I run, so I did. I was old enough to fend for myself, to make my own way.”

“You were just a boy! Why would she tell you to do such a thing?” Her hands clenched at her sides as righteous anger surged within her—at that old woman, at those who’d abandoned a child, and at Sheng, himself, for deeming he hadn’t been worthy of anyone’s care.

“I made it, didn’t I?” His low growl carried a warning. This might be the sorest point for him. Instead of pushing back, she relented. The child he’d been had grown up and, indeed, he had flourished, for the man beside her was unlike any other she’d ever met.

“I didn’t mean to pity you.” She softened her voice. “I miss my parents so much and I know how that feels. To wonder if anyone will ever love me as unconditionally as they did.” She drifted off, grimacing for steering their conversation in the direction of love. She refused to be the kind of woman who demanded those words from her lover.