by Abby Niles
As soon as one of the cuffs released, he tugged his shirt over his head, then stretched out across the mattress and brought both wrists together behind the thick wooden post of the headboard.
“Okay. Secure me.”
Within seconds, she had the cuffs back in place. She sat back and took in the fine male specimen laid out before her. She soaked in the sculpted muscles of his washboard abs, down to the sexy vee of his pelvis, to the impressive tent his erection had created in his flannel pajama bottoms. Her mouth watered for a sample. “Now you’re all mine.”
“Don’t think for one moment that this is going to stop me from tasting you. Licking you.”
His words sent another delicious shiver over her, but she played along. “Nuh-uh. Only if I let you.”
She tugged his bottoms down and tossed them away, freeing his cock so it stood proud and ready. After pressing a gentle kiss over his heart, she opened her mouth to flick her tongue over his nipple. When his body jerked beneath her, the cuffs clacked. She smiled against his skin, loving her ability to drive him mad. In a good way. She switched to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. As she continued licking, nipping, and kissing his chest, his breathing became rough.
“Straddle me,” he groaned.
Just as eager as he was to have him inside her, she swung one leg over his hip and his erection greeted her center, pushing against her. She moaned. Slowly, she lowered onto him until the head stretched her. When he shook his head fiercely, she froze.
“Not there,” he ground out.
Confused, she stared at him until his meaning sank in. Right. As long as he hadn’t released inside her, his mouth could play between her legs all day long without worry of him marking her.
Quickly she reversed her position, spreading her thighs wide to compensate for his shoulders. As she poised herself directly above his mouth, his hot breath blew across her sensitive skin. Her clit tightened, sending jolts of pleasure through her. She almost came from the intimate position alone, knowing what he was looking at, what he was about to taste.
At the first flick of his tongue against her, she gasped, shivering as lust burned through her veins with each swipe. She leaned forward, taking his cock into her hands, enjoying the groan that erupted against her, vibrating her even more.
She slipped him into her mouth, tasting him, knowing he’d work to bring her to orgasm quickly.
And, damn it, he did. The suction of his lips sent an enthralling shock through her body and she paused mid-bob, moaning around him as the nub between her legs tightened, then tightened some more. The rattle of the cuffs, the frustrated sounds he made, made it clear he wished to have his hands free, wished to bury his face deeper into her as he continued his onslaught.
She made herself concentrate on him. Wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, she moved her mouth and hand up and down, constricting the rigid flesh with the walls of her mouth.
“Don’t let me come, Val.” His hot breath seared her clit. “I want to be inside you. Don’t let me come.”
Then he was back, focused solely on her. And she came hard against his lips. She pushed up, bracing her hands against the mattress as the sounds of blissful pleasure ripped past her throat. As her release started to ebb, he pressed his face farther into her, sucking her throbbing, sensitive clit deep into his mouth. Instantly, she came a second time. His licks slowed. Became lazy. Growls vibrated from his chest as he enjoyed lingering over her.
Her arms quivered, but her body still quaked from the explosive orgasms he’d pulled out of her. Inhaling deeply, she tried to calm her ragged breathing, staring at the rigid cock that she’d completely forgotten about as she became ensnared by what Britton could do to her body, even with his hands cuffed above his head.
When she started this sex play, she’d believed she would be in control, would see to him and only him, while enjoying the feel of him deep inside her. That had been enough for her, just having him fill her, stretch her. She should have known Britton would never allow that.
His mouth left her. “Take me.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. Shifting her trembling legs and repositioning to straddle his hips, she looked down at him. Violet dominated his eyes, gleaming bright. His mouth glistened from her body.
Never had she seen anything more arousing…more enticing.
His eyes darkening upon her perusal, another growl ripped from his throat. “Woman, when I’m human again, I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
Human or shifter, she didn’t care; all that mattered was he now believed they had a future together, and she craved one with him.
“I’m holding you to that,” she murmured.
“Take me inside you.”
Lifting up on her knees, she took him in her hand and slowly lowered onto him, closing her eyes. She’d never get enough of this feeling—the feeling of emptiness right before he filled her. That was what Britton did for her. Filled her. Not just her body. But her heart. He infuriated her. Pissed her off like no other man could. But he brought out passion like no man before. Most of all, he’d chiseled away at the years of detachment she’d built around herself while working in law enforcement. Something she had needed to do to be the head of SPAC and to investigate emotional cases. That tightening in her chest she’d questioned…it was affection. For Britton.
Did she love him? Too soon to tell. But there was one thing for certain: she may not have an instinct, but against everything they’d been through, all the loathing they’d felt toward each other, she had always found the man attractive. Had always felt a kick to her heart right before he opened the blasted mouth that caused her to curse her body’s reaction to him, because she’d always known that if he’d been any other asshole, she’d see only the slime that he was and not his good looks or generous heart.
But he wasn’t a slime, was he? Something deep inside her had known that, and had kept her from completely despising the man. It was why he’d always been capable of hurting her with his callous remarks. That awful man wasn’t her mate.
As soon as he’d been given the serum, he’d become the Britton she was supposed to know and had plowed straight into her heart.
Why? Because they were destined. Made for each other.
And she was just now starting to grasp the power of two souls meant to be, and what the Dea had given them.
He stilled beneath her. “What are you thinking?”
Opening her eyes, she looked down at him and her heart filled to bursting. “Just enjoying how much you fill me, Britton.”
The violet flashed brighter. “And I’ll continue to do so every chance I get.”
Knowing he believed she’d meant sexually, she began to move on him, slow at first, and then more frantically. She wanted to make sure he continued to believe that. If he realized where her mind had gone, that expression—the helpless he-had-failed-her-as-a-mate expression from last night—would return…
And that was one thing she never wanted to see again.
Chapter Eleven
Britton sat on the couch and rubbed the faint bruises that discolored his skin. When Val had taken off the handcuffs, she’d been horrified at the deep-plum rings around his wrists, but he assured her they would quickly fade.
And they had. Over the last hour, the bruises had dulled to a pale green. By the next hour, they would be gone, and no one would ever know he’d strained against those steel cuffs as the mating instinct had roared over him, demanding he mark her. The more he’d yanked to free his hands, the more forceful the urge had become, until he’d been desperate to make her orgasm and release the pressure of the Drall.
Woman, when I’m human again, I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.
He’d uttered those words without thinking, aching with the need to touch her, to take her the way he wished, without worry, without fear…without fighting his beast.
It wasn’t until she was straddling his hips wit
h him buried deep inside her that he’d wished he could take those words back.
Because at that moment it fully hit him what he would be losing.
He didn’t want to be a human. He wanted to be a shifter, to have Val as his true mate, be anchored to her even in the hereafter and not fear their deaths for the next fucking sixteen years.
The sick part about all of this was in a few short hours he may not even remember he felt like this. He may be snarling at Val in disgust.
As much as he tried to stay positive, the negative kept creeping back in.
The deadline was only a few hours away. Something was going to give. The High Council would either concede or attack. The kidnappers would escape, or be caught. The shifter community would either be in mortal danger from the humans, or safe. The kid would reunite with his mother or be whisked off to Dea knows where. Britton would either be exonerated or resentenced.
He would either love Val or hate her.
And in each instance, he was terrified how the coin was going fall.
He kept reminding himself that the Drall was awakened now. If the serum had caused all those awful emotions toward Val, maybe with the instinct flung wide-open, the serum wouldn’t be able to smother his love for her. And he would be just a human, in love with a woman.
He’d settle for that if he had to, and just pray they both stayed alive until he was a shifter again and he could bond them together forever.
When Val walked into the room, dressed in her sock-monkey pajamas, his chest swelled with love.
“What do you think is going on at the council?” Val asked.
He tugged her down beside him on the couch and wrapped an arm around her. “No clue.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling. It’s one thing for Harwood to order us to stand down—its happened before—but he’s always been really good about keeping us abreast of the situation. This total lack of communication is disconcerting and he’s not leaving us much time to react.”
“I agree. He’s spooked. I heard it in his voice yesterday. It was the first time I actually believed he may give them what they want.”
“What could they have possibly threatened the council with?”
He’d like the answer to that himself. Sitting around and waiting made him antsy, but without any scents to work with he and Val were cut off at the knees.
His cell phone rang. Tensing, he grabbed it off the table and glanced at the caller ID. “Speak of the devil.”
“We’re back to work.”
“At least we’ll get some damn answers now.” He touched the phone icon. “Hello?”
“Are you both at the cabin?” Harwood said without preamble.
“Yes.”
“Put me on speaker.”
He hit the speaker button. “Okay.”
“Calhoun, can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There should be a car pulling in any second with a package for Townsend.”
Britton glanced toward the window and, sure enough, a car was cresting the hill. “Just showed up.”
“Get the package and open it.”
Britton met the delivery boy at the door and took the square box from him. After he tore off the end of the carton, a pile of clothes with name tags fell out. “Uh. What’s this about, Councilman?”
“Just smell them and tell me what you find.”
Ah.
Holding a white T-shirt to his nose, he breathed in deeply. Immediately, he was hit with the smell of honeysuckle. “Shit,” he muttered as he dropped it and grabbed another piece of clothing, then another. Each one carried a scent they’d been following in the woods.
“Do they match?”
“Yes. How did you get these? Whose are they?”
“Thank Dea,” Harwood breathed through the phone. “A couple of days ago, one of the founders of MASK called us, concerned about a few people in the group. She said they had been trying to rile up the membership and take some extreme measures to invoke change. When they went missing a few days ago, she was worried they were planning to try something on their own, and was terrified we would believe it was MASK behind whatever it was. So she called to warn us. She gave us names and we’ve been rushing to acquire scent samples ever since.”
“What about this package that Seeder mentioned?” Britton asked.
“That came in a few hours later. It was another video. An interview of sorts. Charlie was being asked questions about how he is treated at World Shifters. He’s visibly upset on the video.” There was a long pause. “He told them we keep the children in cages, barely feed them, and even abuse them.”
Val pressed her fingers to her mouth in a gasp, then shook her head at Britton in denial.
He didn’t believe it, either. The council may be many things, but he truly believed it was working for the good of the shifter community, however misguided its outdated laws might be.
“The kidnappers included pictures of a horrific-looking dungeon lined with cages and chains. It was in response to my refusal to meet the demands in the letter you found. They saw I didn’t take them seriously. And because I didn’t call Townsend off when they said, I now had to call you both off or they were going to send the video to MASK before the deadline so the shifter community would be made aware of our so-called treatment of mutated children. Everyone in the shifter community knows Charlie. There’s no denying it’s him in the video.”
There was another pause as Britton swore softly. “But how…? Why—”
“I know people are furious over the Samantha Mills case, but no matter what anyone thinks, we do not mistreat or abuse those children. We provide a warm, loving, and safe environment that is capable of handling their condition. I know Charlie. I’ve played Candy Land with him many times. We need to get the boy back before we have two wars on our hands.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Now that we have positively identified the kidnappers, we have leverage to use against them. Calhoun, I’m e-mailing you our files on each of the suspects with their background information. We want them taken alive. You are not to use deadly force. There are four hours until their deadline. Get this wrapped up before then.”
“That’s your plan?” Britton ground out in frustration. “How are we supposed to just happen across them in four hours when we haven’t crossed paths in days?”
“Tracking is your field of expertise, Townsend. Not mine. Now both of you, get to work.”
With that, Harwood hung up.
“Fuck!” Britton flung a pillow across the room.
Val was already at her laptop pulling up the files.
“It’s okay,” she said while she typed furiously. “We’ve got this. You’ve already predicted where you think they’re heading.”
There was no way in hell the High Council would be giving him a pardon if he fucked this up. Hell, that would be the last of his worries. They might also reprimand Val for his decisions, and that thought terrified him.
“What if I’m wrong? What if the kidnappers have spent the past two days moving even deeper into the woods?”
Slamming down her pen, she pinned him with a scowl. “Do not do that. You are Britton Townsend, a shifter with an amazing ability, and a detective with instincts that I have complete faith in. You will not guide us wrong. Now get out your damn map and tell me which way we’re going.”
He held her gaze, taking strength from her faith in him. He would not fail her.
After he spread the topo on the table, they both stood over it.
“What’s your gut telling you, Britton?”
“That two days ago they were headed back toward the first cabin,” he said without hesitation.
“What does it say now?”
That it was almost over.
If the deadline was only a few hours away, the kidnappers wouldn’t go deeper into the mountains. They would start moving closer to civilization, either to prepare to escape, if the council gave in to their demands, or to g
et into position to reveal Charlie and his beast to the humans.
“I think they’re still at the first cabin, or will be shortly.”
“All right. That’s where we start. We need to change and get out of here.”
After Britton put on a pair of olive-green cargo pants and black thermal undershirt, he knelt down and started going through the artillery in the backpack. When Val joined him, wearing the olive cargo pants and black shirt he’d brought for her, he asked her, “I didn’t look at the files the High Council sent, and I sifted through the clothes so fast I didn’t pay attention to the tags. What’s the shifter versus half shifter ratio?”
The more shifters there were, the more tranquilizers he would need. But if half shifters outnumbered the shifters, the tranqs would be useless.
“Three shifters, not including Charlie. Two half shifters.”
Good. It would be much easier to even the numbers. Normal animal tranquilizers wouldn’t make a shifter yawn, much less knock him out, so the drug they used was especially strong and would kill the half shifters. To be on the safe side, he packed away twelve of the strongest tranquilizer darts.
“Do the half shifters have any special abilities?” he asked.
“No special abilities really, unless you consider being able to count cards special. The chick with the orchid scent can heal quickly. Now that must be nice.”
Britton stared up at Val, his insides clenching. They were about to go into an extremely dangerous situation. Both of them had been in this moment many times before. The calm before the storm. There was always a sense of excitement that came along with a pending raid. But he didn’t feel any thrill now. All he felt was an insane amount of worry for his mate. He wanted to lock her in a room to make sure she stayed safe while he did this alone.
But that wouldn’t be fair to her. She was a cop, and a damn good one. He refused to allow his instinct to protect her to interfere with something she was meant to do.
Instead, he came to stand in front of her, cupping the side of her face in one hand. She leaned her cheek into his palm as her gaze met his. “I know. This time it’s different for me, too. I’ll be careful, Britton. Just promise me you’ll do the same. No matter what happens, this”—she waved her hand between them—“has to be put aside. If we let emotions cloud our judgment, we’re going to make mistakes.”
