Fox's Quest: A Foxy Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Foxes of the Midnight Sun Book 2)

by K. R. Alexander

  “Wolf teaches ‘live in this moon,’ which means to focus on this one moment. Right?”

  He didn’t answer, eyes still fixed.

  “Then who is breaking your laws? What would be living this moment for you? This exact time and place? Not tomorrow, not finding wolves while being entangled with foxes, not memories or futures or quests. What would be honoring yourself right now? And me—how I feel? What if neither of us live to see morning? What would you regret from this moon if you faced your own end with the rising of the sun?”

  He pulled away, sitting over his legs so his back was to me, apparently about to get up.

  “What do you already regret? That you kissed me? Or that you let go so soon?”

  “I regret confusing you with my intentions.” His breaths shook.

  “I’m not confused. I don’t think you are either. Only torn.” Dropping my voice to a whisper. “One day a wolf pack, pups, songs that fill the night. One day. Not today. Today is this moon. What about now?”

  He rocked forward, turning onto his knees. “You should return to your den with the strays. With … your mates. I will walk you back.”

  “If that’s what you want…” I also sat up, watching the back of his head. “If that’s what you won’t regret…”

  He whipped around, seizing my face with both hands. His mouth over mine was painful, teeth digging into lips, pressure like fire. He crushed me back against the furs, pulse pounding, the force of him as shocking as plunging into the river.

  I clung to him, pulling him in even tighter, clutching his head, his back. “When have you been with a female?” I only managed the words when he bit my throat instead.

  He was a moment answering, pulling at my tunic, teeth and tongue and lips on my skin. “Three winters past.”

  “We were meant to find each other, Ondrog. My past, your future… We are only strong together. You know that.” I gripped his face, kissing his mouth again, holding on as if to save my own life while he returned it.

  He nodded.

  I could have laughed, or wept, but only held on even tighter.

  Chapter 25

  We swirled together in the sleeping skins until I was in his lap, both undressing one another. Always kissing and moving—a new dance.

  Ondrog stroked down my body, his touch lightening, tingling, making me catch my breath.

  I kissed his eyelids, his jaw, his chest with his tunic removed. Then held his face to taste his mouth, savoring him.

  He removed my belt, tunic, and skirt, feeling over my skin with hugely strong hands that could be so gentle he could stroke a butterfly. His breaths came shorter and shorter as he found more skin to caress. He touched his lips to my nipples without lingering, moving over all of my upper body with his touches. Trembling slightly, he licked across my breasts, up my neck, over my lips and brow.

  I laced myself across him, hot skin and powerful body like curling around a great fir tree. An endless playground to explore. I kissed, tasted, felt over his muscles. Ondrog only let me play for a minute before he was lifting and turning me in his arms. I embraced him, still kissing, completely naked by then and free to twist all over him.

  Ondrog lay me back on my side, face-to-face, stroking my body as if to relax me. I nibbled his chest, finishing opening his trouser buttons. Overwhelmed by the desire to see and feel more of him, I reached between his legs to find the bulk of him. Dazzled by his size, I wriggle down to taste him. Ondrog slipped his arms around my back before I’d moved a few inches. Again, he settled me to face him on my back and side, him over and beside me.

  I licked his lips, slithered away, and twined myself about him, so enamored with his body I couldn’t let him go. His erection rubbed across my leg, then belly, rocking his hips into me, and I reached to hold him. He shivered as he pressed forward.

  I crawled on top of him, kissing, and Ondrog groaned. Once more, he shifted my whole body gently back so he could move over me. I sat up, kissing his neck.

  Ondrog blew out a breath through clenched teeth. Panting, he caught me in his arms while I kept kissing him. He turned me around this time, not letting go. His right arm, below me, crossed between my breasts, pinning my back into his chest. His left gripped my hips painfully tight, pulling me into him. He rubbed my naked skin that way, making me gasp and shiver. He shoved me forward, partly beside and partly on top of me while I faced away from him. Crushing me down into the sleeping furs, the force of him grew even heavier, more intense, as he mounted me. He tugged my hips into his while he found the wet heat between my legs and pushed.

  I tried to open for him, to pull a leg forward, but Ondrog had me crushed, his power like a grizzly, and I couldn’t move below him.

  I basked in the strength and force of him, wanting even more of him on me, shivering and wet, craving him for the way he made me feel I belonged to him, helpless against him like a wolf tying to his mate in fur—nothing able to break us apart now. He shifted his weight as he felt me, letting out a soft cry like a whine as he felt into a female for the first time in three winters. In a rush, with another exclamation, he thrust forward and much of the bulk of him was buried inside me. Slightly painful—the girth and rush of him, his weight. Mostly, though, it was exciting.

  I crooned with him and tried to rock back into his pressure, meeting and inviting him.

  Ondrog, apparently assured I wouldn’t wriggle away, scrambled to clasp my hips while he thrust on his side. I lay just as still, taking in his size and intensity of him driving into me. I couldn’t find my own pleasure—too taken up with the shock and force and sometimes pain of him. I didn’t mind—wanted him anyway, charmed in the feel of him. All the time I imagined his own feelings, thrilled to give him this exhilaration of knowing a mate again.

  He said nothing. I felt the rush of his seed all the same. Knew without words while he grew most frantic, then held deep inside, hardly breathing. It hurt, how far he pushed—at the same time leaving me wishing he would stay a little longer, a little more for my own rush.

  I pushed back into his power, showing I was content with him, and Ondrog held on long after his organ began to grow slack and should have slid from my body.

  Instead, pressed tight, we remained together, Ondrog clinging to me as if afraid he would blink and I would be gone, until I slept—safe and secure now that he would stay. That his life, at least for now, was saved. That we would find families of our past and future together. And, until then, be each other’s family.

  Chapter 26

  Day 11

  Ondrog woke with his body curved around the vixen—who had asked to be his mate, who had given herself to him, now remaining with him. Why? How could such a thing be?

  Still early hours of morning. The treetops above were just brushed in the low sunlight. He could see because he was not in his den. It took him a second to recall why he had dismantled it the day before. Morning meant time to go: start west. Only … here he was with his arms around this person who wanted to be with him. He still waited for her to come to her senses and be repelled by him—like any normal fox would be.

  No … even when she stirred it was only to stretch her back against him and curl in closer. Her naked skin touched his slight erection when she did so. He’d slipped from her body in sleep. Now, though, he’d woken as if ready again. A touch more stability and he would be able to enter her. Still half-asleep, with her apparently mostly asleep, dozing against his chest, faced away from him, he rolled his hips for contact. In seconds he was plenty stimulated. He had to ease himself down slightly, then press up, feeling… There … he let out his breath in a sigh of ecstasy.

  He rolled his hips and pulled his body in tighter against hers. He could create nothing like it on his own—this pleasure that swallowed him until he felt shaken with it. He could touch himself and pretend, but never this sensation—all the way around him, consuming. It was not only the pure wet heat of entering her body, the rich contact, but the emotional ride of it: the conviction that she wanted hi
m, that he had a mate again. Even if it was a fleeting game of make-believe with a strange little fox he could never understand, it didn’t feel that way. It felt pure as the touch. Solid and forever as her kisses the night before when she’d flitted all over him like a moth, and he hadn’t been able to keep her still to mate with her.

  Now she lay at peace, nestled dreamily against him while he rocked his hips.

  It was still a dream, all soft light and bird calls, when he moaned with the pleasure she gave him, releasing into her, and relaxed, still holding her tight. They slept once more, through the birds and drifting light.

  When next he opened his eyes, the morning was overcast. He could not tell about the time. He did not care. How could he not care? He was supposed to get an early start west, cross the Yukon and set out. Only…

  How was it he knew he would remain with her? For today, tomorrow, for as long as she needed him.

  What of the others? Her fox mates? They probably already knew. Anxious Demik would have slunk over here last night to have a sniff at them in the dark, make sure Summit was all right and accounted for. Be that as it may, he hadn’t intervened. Now Ondrog realized, for reasons as mysterious as this vixen, that he never would intervene as long as Summit was all right. And she was. Somehow.

  They truly woke this time, Ondrog yawning, Summit rolling in his arms as nimbly as shadow to kiss and caress all over his face and chest. He could not get over her easy joy and blissful smiles. Much less how she moved. She was perfectly content and happy in his arms, perfectly at peace. From tears, making herself ill yesterday, to total serenity simply because she believed he was going to stay and not go off on his own now.

  Was it true, how she planned to seek? She meant to go in fur only? No rifle, no clothes, no chance to change to skin and speak to humans even if they wished? Relying only on the senses of a total fox, tracking for shifters?

  A sensible way to hunt, but for how long? It also felt like a tenuous time to leave the clan with humans threatening. Would only himself and Demik go with her, perhaps? It was not many to keep an eye out. No pack at all. Yet the clan needed Mej more than ever.

  Ondrog would never get a straight story from the beaming vixen. He would have to ask Demik for any real plan. Then, if they were to set out, he would leave his pack and rifle perhaps in Skeen’s secure den and go out with them to sniff what they could track.

  Yes, there was a certain sense to it. And there was her, Summit. Staying with her, being with her, as he wanted beyond all reason. He hardly knew her. While what he did know was a long list of insanity: hair-chewing and laughing at leaf shadows, putting no limit on number of mates and preferring candy to red meat. So why, how, did he feel this way about her?

  He kissed, touched, and followed Summit while she played with his hair and lavished his face and chest in kisses. When he was properly aroused, practical thoughts gone, he traded places with her, pushing her to the furs below him, climbing on top of her while she faced him. She found his mouth and he held on, kissing her as he also held her in place and separated her legs. She was so slippery, wrapping around him, pressing her body against his, he had to use both hands to hold onto her and hold his own weight up from crushing her, leaving nothing free to help guide himself.

  Frustrated, burning, he struggled for a minute until he finally felt his way in. Before she could slip away or keep playing with his hair, or whatever all she was about, he thrust in hard. Summit gasped, forced back, and he chided himself. She was small, delicate, her body not used to him. He had to be gentle—caress, not pummel her. Her wet heat surrounded him, pressing in tight and singular, leaving him dazed, frantic for more, for the explosion inside her that his balls demanded. He couldn’t stop, no matter her whimpering, but thrust over her, his swollen erection stretching her.

  He couldn’t force himself to ease back, to make sure she wasn’t hurt, or that she wanted this. Once he surged into her, that frustration boiled up into his pleasure and he pumped in a rush that went straight through him and burst free with his seed. He cried out, lost, desperate to check himself, to look after her, yet not as desperate as this sensation left him.

  “Ah!” Summit almost screamed, clutching his neck. “Ondrog! Ah!” As if he’d torn her apart.

  “Summit—” he gasped, horrified, wrenching back from her, trying to pull away. “Summit—no, I’m sorry—” But he couldn’t stop. The pulsing release still held him. He slammed in again, up on his hands to get away while his hips still thrust and she still cried out. “Summit—”

  She writhed under him, her body hot and open to him. Another thrust, holding himself in, buried in her with the final wave of his own pleasure.

  Moon, what had he done? How bad had he hurt her? Why did he have no control?

  Shamed and terrified, he prayed, Moon, Moon, forgive me…

  “Summit?” Shaking, mouth dry, tears in his eyes, he fought himself away from her, pulling clear, expecting blood, expecting her sobbing.

  Summit gasped when he withdrew. Otherwise, she only lounged on the furs, hands dropping back to twist in her hair, eyes shut, a wide smile taking up her whole face.

  “Oh … Ondrog…” she still moaned, her tone soft now, blissful. “Ondrog…” A long, drawn out moan.

  Ondrog stared at her, heart hammering, still scared. “Summit? Are you…? You’re all right?”

  “I’m flying,” she murmured, dreamy. “Will you do it again? More like that?”

  “I didn’t hurt you? I was afraid…”

  “You could never hurt me.” She rubbed her back on the furs, sliding around as she was constantly in motion. She even twitched and murmured in her sleep. She smiled up at him. The most charming, most sexy, most seductive look anyone had ever given him. Her eyes hooded, lips curved and full, strands of hair damp across her brow. Her small, firm breasts faced him below her smile while her alluring hair swirled about her.

  She stole his breath, his reason, in that look. Then she reached for more, stealing his soul as she stroked his face on both sides, clasping his head in her hands.

  “I love you, Ondrog.” She gazed into his eyes.

  Ondrog kissed her hands, kissed her lips, shaking, weak with the relief that he hadn’t hurt her—had actually given her pleasure. “I … love you too.”

  “More like that. Touch me like that again. As soon as you can.”

  “I thought I’d hurt you. You’ll tell me, won’t you? If I’m too much, if I put my weight on you… I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

  “I know.” She pulled his head down, her mouth around his.

  They curled together, her moving—a little otter sliding about the furs and their two skins, kissing and touching until he could have her again. Then she lay still below him without him having to hold her. Eager, this time telling him to lean up more, to touch her in a certain way.

  He gave her the same pleasure, now knowing it for what it was so she didn’t terrifying him with her cries. His own arousal was deeper knowing he did what she wanted, giving to her in return.

  Then more caressing, cooling one another’s bodies in the damp morning air as clouds grew thicker and the birds hushed. It was going to rain.

  They cleaned up the camp, rolling and hiding everything below the folded den walls just in time—only themselves and Ondrog’s gear getting damp as they made their rushed way back to the settlement. Summit was laughing and admiring the drops, holding out her hands to catch them, as she skipped along. While Ondrog found quite suddenly that he did not mind the rain either. Not when he could watch her dancing her way through it.

  Chapter 27

  Night 11

  “Mmm…” Komu snuggled down in his patched old deerskin blanket. “Dance all night…” It smelled delightfully of himself. His best blanket, most aromatic possession. “Home tonight, Summit…” He must give her his blanket. Or anything else he could think of. Give her… “Yes…” Everything. A sigh, a stretch. His soul for her.

  “Get up!”

  K
omu jumped. “What?” He almost fell off his cot.

  “Do you want to come along or not? We’re leaving.” It was Mej, storming around, grabbing things to take? No. He was undressing. Removing, not taking.

  Komu rubbed his eyes. He yawned. The den reeked of whiskey, but he and Mej hadn’t even been into town last night. Tweal. That damned fox. Why’d he come back? He’d scared Summit off.

  No, wait… Demik had said Summit went to stay with the wolf overnight. She was trying to keep him from leaving.

  Komu yawned again, fingering a fold of his thin blanket. Poor little vixen. He would be there to comfort her. They’d all known Ondrog must move on soon. The threat of human invasion was plenty to send him running with his hackles on end. Komu would have to move quickly, though, not let Mej and Demik be her only shoulders to cry on.

  How long had he slept? He wasn’t used to much rest in the summer. Winter was sleeping time. There’d been that fight with Tweal, but it hadn’t been a late night. Was Summit back? Was it still morning at all? Or midday? Or, no, the den was warm, shadows thrown out back. Already evening? It smelled like rain, though that seemed to be past.

  Mej was shouting at him for some reason.

  Komu squinted blearily at him.

  “—just don’t know what they’ll think up next—and act like it’s a real ripping idea. Summit has her own special … well … way of thinking. Does that mean everyone jumps in the canoe with her? Says, ‘Oh, yes, fine as cream gravy, how perfect, how lush. You clever vixen, you gem.’ Is that what we should do every time she has an idea?”

  “What’s going on, Mej?”

  “Or, how about this? ‘You’re a wit, beautiful, but let’s think about that and have a good old fish bake and dance tonight, tell stories, sing songs, and we’ll take that under advisement?’”

  “What was her idea?” Komu stretched and wrapped up tighter.

  “Oh, you know.” Mej folded his shirt and vest into his cedar box. “Perfectly normal ideas, really. The wolf should stay with her. The humans won’t really bother this land. The five of us should be a skulk forever. Not even a skulk. She seems convinced we’re a wolf pack. Demik’s probably silver, and we’re supposed to howl at the moon now and bring down a moose with our teeth—little things like that.”