Magical Menages 1: Shifters' Captive (7 page)

“Is something like that possible?” Sherrie thought of how her senses had expanded when she held Liberty’s hand and how being around John had made her edgy. After sex her senses were heightened as if she’d been wrapped in a thick quilt before and was now uncovered and wide awake.

“Anything’s possible,” Perron answered. “Psychic dreaming, precognition, telekinesis and other mental abilities. Energies can be shifted or mutated in many ways. Sex is one of them.”

“What am I supposed to do with this power? How does it work?”

“Maybe you can find this entity with your mind, without holding Liberty’s hand, and learn his strengths and weaknesses.”

John moved closer to Sherrie, sliding a hand around her waist. “I don’t want to put her in danger by having her let this thing inside her head. Let’s start toward the caves and see if we can size him up physically first.”

Grant shrugged. “We can head out now as far as I’m concerned.”

“Sherrie will need clothes and hiking gear. I’ll get supplies from my shop and be back in a couple of hours. Meanwhile, she can get some sleep.”

Perron gave an impatient sigh. “I thought wolves were like Boy Scouts, always prepared, but it looks like you kidnapped her without much of a plan. Now you have to run an errand and leave me to guard her.”

“She’s not going to be with you.”

“Were you planning on leaving her here all alone and unprotected?” Grant’s eyes widened in an astonished cat’s stare. Sherrie couldn’t help smiling.

“Safer than leaving her with you.” John scooped his discarded shirt from the floor and slipped his arms into it.

“I promise not to disturb the lady’s sleep.” He pressed his palm over his heart, but the vow was diminished by the fact that his cock was pointing at Sherrie. “She can keep the door locked and bolted.”

“Go on. I’ll be okay.” Both flattered and mildly annoyed by his protectiveness, Sherrie squeezed John’s arm. She leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he turned his head and laid claim to her mouth with his. The possessive kiss was for Grant’s benefit, but Sherrie didn’t care. It was hot and deep and pulled on that thread within her that led straight to her clenching pussy. She gripped the sleeves of John’s unbuttoned shirt and longed to slide her hands up his stomach and chest to feel his warm skin and the solid muscle beneath. She felt Perron’s gaze burning into them, watching and craving, and that made the kiss all the hotter.

When she finally pulled away from John and glanced at the panther, his eyes were molten gold.

John whispered in her ear, “Keep the door locked.” He nudged Perron in the back, toward the cabin door.

Sherrie bolted the door then looked out the window, watching the headlights of the Blazer swing away and the taillights disappear down the track. She couldn’t see Grant in the dark, but felt him out there. Was he still man or had he turned into his animal form to patrol the night?

Leaving the window, she went to the kitchen for a bottle of water, which she emptied in a few gulps.

She picked up the sleeping bag from the floor and draped it around her shoulders before sitting on the musty futon. There was no way she could sleep with her brain jumping like she was on speed. One twist after another had warped her life into an unrecognizable shape and she couldn’t stop reliving every moment of the past day. She also couldn’t stop picturing a panther prowling outside the door of the cabin.

She wrapped her arms around her body and lay back with her head on the flat pillow, gazing at the bolted door.
I’ve had sex with a wolfman and now I’m lusting after a man who turns into a mountain lion.

This has been the weirdest day of my life.
Her muscles twitched, and her skin tingled. She’d never be able to fall asleep…

It didn’t surprise her when Grant Perron was suddenly standing beside the futon, gazing down at her.

Locked door or not, she’d known he would come. His appearance was inevitable. It was her destiny.

He didn’t say a word, merely smiled at her, a glorious Apollo of a man with his dark blond hair and white teeth. He sat beside her on the bed and rested his hand on her belly. Her flesh felt branded by the heat. She expected to look down and see her skin smoking.

“Feel me?” His mouth didn’t form the words. They were inside her head as he was.

“Is this a dream?” But she knew it was no mere dream. On some plane beyond the physical, he was with her. Yet every sensation was concrete, and there was none of the flighty change of scenery or storyline that usually accompanied her dreams.

“It’s real enough. Don’t think too hard. Go with it. You can do whatever you want here. There are no limits.”

Sherrie glanced down at her body and saw it was true. Because she wanted to have his hot hand caress her bare skin, she was naked.
No limits
. The very words evoked erotic fantasies. If there were no limits, what would she want to do? The possibilities made her feel indecisive, and so she suggested, “I want you to take control.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She felt she’d made a deal with the devil as a slow smile spread across his face, but he reassured her by his velvet-pawed caresses on her stomach.

“Don’t look so worried. I won’t hurt you…more than what you want.” His nails scratched her then, light and tickling. It didn’t hurt, but sent lustful shivers through her. Her belly twitched violently and her nipples grew taut as he scratched a path up to her breasts. He batted them lightly as a cat would play with a toy, and they jiggled, sending more delicious quivers coursing through her body.

With a deep chuckle, Grant leaned and drew one of her nipples between his lips. He bathed it with his warm, wet tongue, and Sherrie’s thighs tensed at the jolt of electricity that speared from his tugging mouth down to her crotch. He lightly plucked at her other nipple with his fingers and then his teasing grew abruptly harsh. His teeth scored her areola, and his fingernails dug into the base of her nipple.

Sherrie yelped and twisted, loving the pain and wanting more. Perron alternated rough treatment with soft suckling and gentle caresses, bringing her closer and closer to climax without touching any part of her except her breasts.

Her eyes closed, and she shivered and thrust her hips against the air.

“Don’t come yet.” His rough command and the cessation of his touch brought her back from the brink of orgasm.

Sherrie opened her eyes and focused blearily on his handsome face.

“Not yet. We have a long way to go.” He cupped a breast in each hand, simply holding them and waiting for her to relax and come down from the edge of climax.

At last he took her mouth in a slow kiss as luxuriant as a bed with satin sheets and pillows. With John there’d been a frenzied, ravenous speed to their fucking, mouths clashing, bodies smashing together. Both of them had been so eager and hungry they’d been incapable of taking their time. But Grant seemed ready to toy with her for hours.

He traced the shape of her lips with his tongue before slipping it delicately between them. His mouth tasted like aged whiskey, heady and powerful, not a physical taste but a sensation. The lines between Sherrie’s senses blurred in this dream space; sight became smell, taste and touch were one. Her heart’s pounding and Grant’s breathing had texture and shape, moss soft and gauze delicate.

He grasped her wrists and raised her arms over her head, pinning them against the musty mattress.

Sherrie gripped the edge of the futon, understanding he’d tied her down as effectively as if he’d used ropes.

She wasn’t to let go.

Her upraised arms lifted her breasts higher. They pressed against his hard chest, and her skin slid against his with a taste like dark chocolate. She arched up, wanting more of his body to cover hers. She needed him between her legs where dampness pooled like dew. If he didn’t fill her aching emptiness soon, she’d die.

“Fuck me,” she begged silently.

“When it’s time,” he replied inside her mind. The communication without words was much easier, but also soul-baring. He could see all of her mind. There was no place to hide her ravenous desire, no way to keep any reserve.

But she could feel his need too, growing by the moment. His cock ached to fill her as much as she wanted it inside her. That knowledge gave her power. She rubbed against his rigid shaft, making him groan.

Grant kissed her mouth once more before moving to her exposed throat. He pressed little kisses down the column and swept his tongue across the hollow where her pulse beat. His lips skated along her collar bones. When he reached the mark at the juncture of her neck and shoulder where John had bitten her, he paused and smoothed his tongue over it.

Sherrie caught her breath. She knew what was coming, felt his intention the moment before he bit down. Pain blossomed through her as he covered the mark John had made with a bite of his own. She cried out and gripped the futon frame hard as her body bowed up from the mattress.

Releasing her from his teeth, Grant again licked the spot in a cat’s caress then he abandoned her throat and moved farther down her body. Taking hold of her ankles, he spread her legs as wide as they could go on the narrow futon. Cool air brushed like feathers over her heated pussy, which grew even hotter under Grant’s examination. His gaze was intense as he explored her body. His fingertip traced her vulva before dipping between the swollen folds to sample her wetness. He slipped one long finger inside, circling her opening then reaching deep to touch a spot that made her jerk. Another finger followed and a third—

moving in and out, stretching her, teasing her, making her want more than just his fingers inside her.

After several thrusts, he left her entrance clenching around emptiness. He moved his slick fingers to her clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure, the perfect tickling motion until Sherrie was ready to purr from the sweet caress. Then he abruptly pinched the sensitized bud. Hot cinnamon exploded through her veins and she jerked.

Grant punished her pussy with hard, playful slaps followed by soothing strokes. He leaned down and lapped with his velvet tongue and soon had her writhing, but once more he stopped before she could come.

Sherrie was desperate for release, clinging hard to the futon frame, her body vibrating.

Her lover rose and took hold of her hands, pulling her up from the bed. He drew her against his big, hard body and wrapped his warm arms around her. She nestled against him for a moment and listened to the rumble in his chest. Was it fur or flesh she was pressed against? In this dream-plane he seemed to be both animal and man at the same time.

After a brief cuddle, he took her by the shoulders and turned her around. His large palm covered the back of her neck, pushing her head down.
Now you will submit to me.
The message in her mind was delivered in a growl that made her body ache to do exactly what he ordered.

Hands to your ankles
, he commanded. Sherrie obeyed. She stooped low and grasped her ankles. Her hair tumbled around her face, her breasts pressed against her thighs and her buttocks lifted into the air. The vulnerable position made her melt inside. She stared at his bare feet on the floor behind her and quivered in anticipation of his touch. Her pussy lips were swollen and wetness dripped down her inner thighs. Would he grab her hips and enter her with one thrust or would he toy with her some more until she begged for him to fuck her?

A soft caress on her ass answered the question. He massaged her lower back and cupped her buttocks, squeezing and kneading gently. Just as she relaxed into his touch, he slapped his palm across both cheeks.

The sharp blow made her gasp and twitch. The man was a master at alternating pleasure and pain.

He spanked her again—right cheek then left, light taps and hard smacks. He changed the length of time in between so she wouldn’t know what to expect and sometimes he stopped to massage or kiss her tingling flesh. Raspberry blood coursed through her burnished ass and flooded her hanging head. Sherrie felt both figuratively and literally turned upside down.

Please
, she sent her tormentor a silent plea.
Please, do it now! I need. I want.

Hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Or were they claws? Was it a monster or a man who spread her cheeks apart and positioned his cock at her entrance? He speared her with one strong thrust, filling her with his thick shaft.

She whined at the pain and pleasure and braced her legs against the weight of his body pushing against hers. When he pulled out, she felt him receding like the surf rolling off a beach and leaving it barren. Then he was back, filling her deeply again. His groin slapped against her buttocks, and his hairy thighs brushed the backs of her legs.

His hands supported her, holding her upright, even as his body nearly rocked her off her feet with another thrust. And another.

Blood pounded in her ears, and her legs shook from the effort of holding steady. But the awkward, submissive posture with her ass in the air was extremely arousing, and Grant’s powerful thrusts drove her closer to climax. When he snaked a hand around her hip and pressed a finger against her clit, the tiny touch put her over the edge. The building tension inside her exploded. She groaned and jerked against his hand while he filled her once more. Ecstasy flooded her, and she whirled away on a tide of pleasure.

Grant grunted as he thrust into her several more times then he came with a warm gush that trickled from her pussy and down her inner thighs like molten gold. This encounter might be in a dream world, but the details were as vivid as any in waking life. Her body sweated. His come was sticky. Her breathing was ragged, and blood pounded through her veins. He groaned, and his cock pulsed in the clench of her inner muscles.

When he was finished, Grant slid his arm around her waist and pulled her upright against his heaving chest. He nuzzled the side of her head and kissed her neck where he’d bitten her.

Sherrie felt something had shifted inside her, like a window opening. She couldn’t pinpoint what was different, but she felt energized, even more vibrant than she had after her encounter with John. She turned to face Grant, braced her hands against his chest and looked up into his eyes.
Is this really happening?