Her Type of Guy

by 5 Author Anthology

  "It wasn't me." She breathed the words into his neck, and he closed his eyes to savor the tingle of awareness spreading across his skin like wildfire. The fine hair on his body rose and he couldn't stop the deep rumble of his inner self. Her scent intensified and her eyes grew huge when he turned his head to look at her. James knew his true self must be showing in his eyes, yet she didn't seem frightened. She bit her lip and he groaned. He wanted to be the one to abuse that tender flesh, to sink his teeth into her skin and taste her.

  "I was finishing off and I hit save, and it just went," she whispered running her hands over his chest in an almost absent-minded gesture. He knew the minute she realized what she was doing. Julie dropped her hands and scooted away from him as far as the desk would allow.

  James decided to take pity on her.

  "I know. It's been doing this all day. Was this work important?"

  She nodded, and wrapped her arms around her waist, looking very young and vulnerable all of a sudden—too young for him. He growled his annoyance and she startled, keeping a wary eye on him.

  "I have a deadline to meet. That's why I was still here. The boss needs this proposal ready to go by tomorrow, and after this morning I was late, and …. thank you for rescuing me by the way. You didn't have to do that."

  Nodding his acknowledgement, he set to work. She went quiet as he worked, and he allowed his fingers to work at the much faster speed he usually had to hide from the world. It felt good to be able to be him, to not force himself to be slow in an effort to fit in.

  "What are you?"

  The whispered question pulled him out of his concentration, just as Julie's PC whirred into action.

  "Oh, thank god." She pressed closer in her apparent relief at seeing her files on the screen, and he enjoyed the weight of her soft breast resting on his upper arm.

  "Is it all there?" he asked.

  "Yes, it seems to be. You're a life saver … err … what do I call you? I can't call you grumpy-pants and—"

  He cut off her words by putting his large hand over her mouth and he pulled her on his lap with the other. His cock jumped under her ass, and she went very still, searching his gaze, before she hastily dropped her eyes to the floor.

  "James will do for now."

  She nodded and cast him another coy glance from under her lashes.

  "What can I do to repay you, James?" The way she breathed the words had his beast roaring to life. Too long confined by the restraints human society placed on his kind, it was prowling to be set free, to claim its mate.

  He stilled at the thought as the truth dawned on him. His mother had always warned him this day would come, yet he had not believed her. The mating call was the stuff of legends, much as his kind was. Was that the reason for his extraordinary grumpiness of late, and the inexplicable pull he had felt towards this continent? Why he had left the wide open plains of his homeland where he could run for hours if need be, and trade it for this crowded tiny island? Had he known she was here? A mere human, yet his other half, the one to complete him in ways he could only imagine.

  His nails lengthened and his jaw ached and he growled his need into the tentative hand she ran across his jaw. He sucked her fingers into his mouth and his fangs scraped her digits. The sweet coppery taste of her blood exploded on his tongue and he grabbed her wrist to keep her there.

  Her breathing sped up and she squirmed on his lap, when he released her fingers and dropped a kiss on the rapidly beating pulse point at her wrist.

  "May I?" he asked.

  "Ye … yes."

  His animal side growled and he bit down and tasted heaven.

  *****

  All rational thought fled Julie's befuddled brain, when James's fangs broke her skin. The sharp sting was followed by instant arousal coursing through her veins. It built in rolling waves of ecstasy until it all centered between her thighs. A gush of her juices seeped past her pussy lips, and she spread her legs to give James's free hand access to her swollen core. He ran his claws along her inner thigh before he sheathed them and thrust two fingers knuckle deep into her cunt, whilst his thumb settled on her clit. Julie came hard and fast, dimly aware of him releasing her wrist and licking it before he caught her scream of release in his mouth.

  The taste of her blood on his tongue should have repulsed her, but instead it fuelled her excitement and her need for this man.

  By rights she ought to be terrified. She'd known what he was the minute his eyes had bled to a fiery red yellow, his pupils shrinking to cat-like slits. His delicious smell had intensified and every fiber of her being had yearned to submit to him. When his fingers flew across the keyboard in a blur of movement, her suspicion had been confirmed. There was only one creature who could act like this, a day-walker-hybrid, the product of ancient bloodlines mixed with the essence of a big cat.

  Julie had grown up with the stories, passed down through the generations of her coven, and whilst she did not have the gifts, her mother and grandmother had, and she knew enough of their history to realize what was happening here.

  James's hands tangled in her hair and he deepened the kiss, lifting her in the process until she was sitting on the edge of her desk, his rigid erection pressed into her sodden core.

  "Please … I need you…" She pleaded with him in between kisses and drawing much needed air into her lungs, her excitement mounting at the naked hunger in his eyes, when he pushed her down until she lay flat on the desk. One flick of his sharp claws sliced her blouse open, and with another her bra met the same fate. Her nipples pebbled into stabbing beacons of pure need and she writhed on the desk when he sucked first one and then the other into his mouth and bit down and suckled. Just like before, every suck sent darts of arousal and need through her and she locked her ankles behind his butt, and ground her pussy against his still clothed cock.

  Again and again he suckled her into mind-splintering releases that left her a mass of boneless goo sprawled across her desk like the sacrificial lambs of old. Her body shook with aftershocks and she groaned when he picked her up and sat down, impaling her on his now freed cock.

  "Ride me, Julie. Claim me right back. You know what you have to do."

  The tendons on his neck stood out and his claws dug into her ass cheeks. Pinpricks of painful reality, they focused her, past the incredible feel of his silky rod of steel filling her like she had never been filled before. Her body reacted on instinct. Her walls grabbed him, pulled him deeper into the tight clasp of her core, cementing their bond.

  She pulled her head back and rode him, claiming him right back, every move bringing them closer to the point of no return. Her jaw ached in tune with her building climax, and James ran his hands up her back and into his hair. Their gazes locked as he twitched and pulsed deep inside her, nudging her womb. Warmth spread in her core and mirroring his actions she buried her hands in the silky strands of his hair curling over the shirt he still wore. She pulled his head sideways, and bit into his neck at the same time as her climax hit.

  The world tilted and narrowed to just the feel of him inside her cunt, his blood filling her mouth. She swallowed the sticky sweet fluid down. It slid down her throat like liquid fire branding her as his mate for ever more, and her teeth retracted to their normal size. She let go of his neck, the skin healing in front of her eyes. He growled his approval and before she could blink he had her face down on the desk. With her breasts squashed against the oak, he kicked her legs apart and fucked her in earnest. Every pump of his hips drove him further into her and this time, they came together in an explosion of heat and need that left her gasping for breath. His growl shook the windows and he pinned her in place with his weight and bit her shoulder, sending her over the edge again until the sweet oblivion of darkness claimed her.

  When Julie next opened her eyes, it was to the feel of movement. Held securely in his arms and wrapped inside one of the emergency blankets usually kept in the First Aid room, she was being carried into a house and deposited on a soft bed. She moane
d her denial when he withdrew and he brushed a kiss against her lips.

  "Shhh, rest. Let me take care of my mate."

  The reverent way in which he grumbled the words suffused her whole being in a warm tingly glow. She welcomed the cool washcloth on her heated skin, as he moved her limp body into the positions he needed her to assume. By the time he'd washed every inch of her body, Julie drifted back into sleep.

  *****

  The sunshine bathed his little human prey into a warm glow and James smiled. For the first time in as long as he could remember he'd woken up happy. He'd ignored the alarm, and had rung into the office claiming sickness. He, who never missed a day of work in his entire life, he, who never ever was sick. Instead he'd sat and waited for Julie to wake up.

  Her eyes fluttered open and he held his breath. Would she feel differently in the light of day, now that she wasn't under the influence of the mating pull? He knew, she could simply up and leave. He would not stop her. She was the only one for him, but the female in the bond always had the choice to leave. It was one of the reasons why his species was near extinction, why they had been driven to mate outside their race. He was the only pureblood left and he had hitched his wagon to a human last night.

  One with ancient bloodlines, admittedly, but a human nonetheless. He had tasted the latent power of her heritage, power that in time would be passed to her daughter, but his little Julie was just that—his Julie. The need to protect and cherish made his heart beat faster, and every muscle in his body tensed. His leopard half-coiled to erupt and sprint, to run off the energy coursing through him, whilst his vampiric half wanted to taste her again. It was his human side that won out however, his heart swelling with love for the woman whose sleepy smile warmed his frozen soul.

  "Last night wasn't a late night-cheese-eating-induced-erotic-dream then?"

  He shook his head and held his breath when she studied him.

  "I see you, all of you, and you're beautiful, just like gran always said you would be."

  "She did?" he asked; hope filling his chest fit to bursting.

  "Yes, she did. She had a vision the night mum died, but I didn't believe her until now."

  She pulled her sheet off her body and his mouth went dry when she cupped her breasts and offered them to him in a silent plea. His cock jumped to full alert and she giggled when she saw his predicament.

  "No wonder you were always grumpy. That looks as though it hurts. Let me help you out with that, grumpy-pants."

  He growled low in his throat when she ran her fingernails up and down his length, and lost all coherent thought when her mouth closed around his aching shaft.

  "I think you have just found the cure for grumpiness."

  And wouldn't you know it, she had.

  The End

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  NO LONGER PURE AS...

  Raven McAllan

  Copyright © 2013

  Marcus Snowden sat in the teachers' common room and gazed at the unfulfilled love of his life, across the room. Not that Cameron Christie knew he yearned for her. Oh, no. Marcus might be a six foot two, blond-haired Adonis, but his ability to attract the right sort of woman was a big fat zero.

  He opened his tablet and pulled up the daily paper and half read it. Truth to tell, with Cammie in the room, all of Marcus's concentration went to pot. He swore he could smell her scent even at that distance. Every time he passed the perfume counter in his local department store and recognized that elusive 'something', his cock went into overdrive.

  For the umpteenth time, Marcus wondered why he just didn't bite the bullet and ask her out.

  There was one big glaring reason. Marcus Pura Snowden was a virgin.

  The kids in school might have nicknamed him 'pure as the driven snow', but little did they know how true that tag was.

  Girls, and then women, scared the life out of him. With his looks, men were envious of his pulling power, and women wouldn't believe that someone like him would be true and faithful.

  Marcus would love the chance to try. Especially with Cammie. But then, would someone like her look at him? Cammie Christie was everything anyone could ever wish for: tall, shapely, with long dark hair that just skimmed her nipples, and dark brown eyes that twinkled like the stars.

  Damn, I didn't know I was so poetic. I teach maths, not literature.

  Marcus stole a look under his lashes at her, and looked away again in a hurry.

  Ah shit, she's walking over here. Cool it, be casual … ask her out.

  He knew he wouldn't. Marcus didn't think he'd be able to stand it when she said no. And of course she would. They all did.

  "Hi Marcus, how's it going?" She sat down in the chair next to him.

  As ever, his cock did the snake wriggle, and Marcus held his tablet over the interested appendage. Damn it, the bloody thing has a mind of its own. "Er, hello Cammie. I'm fine. Er… how are you?" Dammit, why do I stammer like a three-year-old when I talk to her?

  "Oh dandy, thank you. Now I've got good news. Well, I hope it is." She didn't look too sure.

  "Tell me?" Marcus made sure his cock was still decently covered. He was sure he could feel it pushing his tablet up into the air. That would be the last straw, for Cammie to notice and either laugh, or run.

  "You won a prize in the church raffle." She paused. "A flower arranging session, and then tea with the vicar. So I'll see you at the vicarage on Saturday then? Around four?" She smiled and walked away, her dog collar proudly on show.

  Tea? Flower arranging? With Cammie in the vicarage? That's attached to the church. Well, it’s the right place to think I've died and gone to heaven.

  Marcus had no idea how he got through the rest of the week. He must have taught all the right classes in the correct order, but how? He didn't have a clue. Nor did he ever remember buying a ticket, but if Cameron said he had he must have….

  By Saturday morning he was a wreck. He showered twice, changed his blue shirt for a green polo shirt to a black t-shirt and swapped navy trousers for dark grey. That was before he had to jack off to make his cock behave and sit tidily under his trousers. The resultant creasing had him swapping linen for denim.

  It's flower arranging for goodness sake, not an orgy—ha I wish. Not that I'd know how to go on at an orgy. Damn I'm going to have to de-virgin-ize myself somehow. If that's a word. Oh shit, I'm rambling in my mind now. Marcus gave himself a mental shake and made a cup of black coffee—extra strength—and checked the time. If he drank it slowly then cleaned his teeth he should be good to go. If he walked instead of drove and took the long way round.

  Luckily, it was a perfect spring day, which was ideal for walking. He grabbed his leather jacket just in case there was a faint hope he was invited to stop for a while after tea. He couldn't see any flying pigs but Marcus decided a dream wouldn't hurt anyone. Except him of course when it didn't materialize, but that was his look out and no one else's.

  "Afternoon Mr. Snowden, is that you off to the vicarage for your lesson?" The postie grinned as he walked past Marcus. "The wife's awfy jealous. The minister's flower arranging is the envy of every woman's group for miles."

  That was the problem with living in a village. Everyone knew everything about everyone else. Well, almost. He hoped to god, oh hell … argh and noo, I'm on my way to spend some time with a woman of the cloth. At the vicarage. I shouldn't be blaspheming. Okay, let’s say thank goodness it seems some things remain secret. He was sure as eggs were eggs he didn't want his virginal state generally known. A woman might get away with it, be applauded even, but he was darned sure he'd be laughed out of the county.

  "I'll be sure to let you know how terrible I am," Marcus said as he waved at the postie. He had no idea why flowers even needed arranging. Surely you just put them in a vase and sat it on the table or whatever? He'd be the first one to admit that he hadn't got a clue. His one house plant, a
cactus called Martha after the prickly head of his last school, existed with very little attention. Probably why he'd got a cactus in the first place.

  The way to the vicarage gate was between an avenue of rowan trees. It was too early for their red berries, which reminded Marcus of the color of Cammie's lush ripe lips. He could only imagine her nipples would echo the hue. However, Marcus admired the lush green leaves, and their individual shape. He took pleasure in beauty in all its guises. Cammie might not be thought to be a conventional beauty, but to him? She was perfection.

  He looked down toward his cock, just to check it was where he'd left it. Marcus rolled his eyes. Anyone would think his dick could act independently. He half smiled. He would swear on many occasions it did.

  Before Marcus even had a chance to knock the door opened, and a vision in red stood in front of him. He almost dropped his jacket.

  "Hi, come on in." Cammie stood to one side to let him walk past her. Marcus moved his leather jacket in front of his body. There went the independently acting body part once more.

  Her light scent tickled his senses, and he did his best not to stare down her cleavage, which was set off admirably by the low sweetheart neck of her strappy dress. Thank goodness for warm days.

  She locked the door behind them. "We don't want to be disturbed, and some people do tend to think this is open house." Cammie smiled up at him. If she noticed where he kept glancing, she was too polite to say. "Ready to learn all about flower arranging?"

  How on earth could such a gentle smile seem full of sensual anticipation? Well no not really, I'd rather strip that excuse for a dress away, and learn all about you.

  "Of course, though I'm rubbish with flowers."

  Cammie took his hand and a myriad of sensations bombarded him. Tiny prickles of excitement danced up his spine, and his mouth went dry. If that's how I feel if she holds my hand, how on earth would I cope with anything else? Not that there's much chance of that. Marcus decided to accept and enjoy any little thing that came his way.