by Plum Pascal
I don’t?
No, you fucking don’t!
No, I’m not going to have sex with any of them. And, good thing I was smart enough to ask for Leith first because he seems the nicest and, thus, the easiest to dupe.
I take a deep breath as the headache that’s been pounding through my head since Sorren punches me continues. Not to mention my palms and fingers which are scraped up and a bleeding, disgusting mess. I’m not in any shape to be having sex or draining a powerful werebear. The truth is that I should be resting and allowing my body to heal.
But that’s not an option so I stick with the plan.
I’ll let Leith strip me, perhaps touch me a little, but when his clothes are off and his guard is down, I’ll steal every scrap of strength I can from his body and then I’ll bolt. But this time, I’ll go a different direction in an effort to avoid Sorren. It’s a solid plan.
So why am I still shaking? Leith’s hand rests at the small of my back, giving me a gentle push forward. He’s not groping me, though he only has to slide his hands down a few inches to palm my ass. And he’s made no motion to do that or anything else.
Yet, my heart is pounding and my palms are clammy. It’s not as though he’s shouting at me or threatening me. And he’s a hell of a lot nicer than Nash is.
I don’t want to admit the truth, even to myself when the thought finally occurs to me. But it’s there, nonetheless.
It’s not fear making me quiver. It’s anticipation.
The expectation of those big, calloused hands sliding over my body, erasing the chill that grips me. I want to know what it feels like to be the object of a man’s desire because I’ve never played that role before.
And when I watched the way the three dragon shifters doted on my friend, Neva, I couldn’t help but wish the same for myself. To have that sort of power over a man, to bring him to his knees. It’s a power only select women have and Neva had it in spades… obviously.
I wish I had it in spades too but, I’m just… me. A girl with wild, corkscrew hair, small but pert breasts and a tiny, child’s body.
But back to this whole fucking subject.
It isn’t as if I’ve never been touched before. I mean, I might not be much compared to Neva but I’m also not ugly! Peter and some of his boys flirt with me incessantly. Peter has even stolen a kiss or two—sweet, brief things as light as butterfly wings. They’d made my stomach flip with girlish excitement.
But this… this is different. The feeling in my stomach is molten, hot and moving south, so I’m aching in places I’ve never ached before.
We reach a door at the end of another long corridor and Leith stops walking, withdrawing another key from inside his coat pocket—the coat I’m still wearing. Just the feeling of his hand through the fabric that rests against my thighs makes my breath catch. He’s going to touch me there—between my thighs. In fact, he’ll probably do so much more if I let him.
Well, I’m not going to let him! I remind myself.
Right.
Not even a little touch?
No!
I mean, it couldn’t hurt just to feel him…
No!
The door is heavy oak, intricately carved with symbols from a language I don’t know. Most people speak the shared tongue of Fantasia, but certain subsets are bilingual. I wish I knew what it says. Leith pulls the door open and gestures for me to step inside first.
My steps falter at the threshold. This is it. No going back now. Maybe it would have been better to do this in the courtyard. Being inside this room with only the corridor as my means of escape translates to the fact that I’m more likely to face a bottleneck situation, if I get cornered from either direction. I don’t have any of my gear, so I couldn’t possibly fight, especially if there ends up being more than one bear to fight, even with Leith’s borrowed strength that I intend to steal from him as soon as I can. The courtyard would be humiliating, but it would at least give me more places to run.
The interior of the room is more spacious than I imagined. It’s at least twelve feet by twelve feet, and modestly furnished. The walls are gray stone, the rugs mossy green. The bedcovers are a muted brown, stretching across a straw mattress that’s big enough for at least three men of Leith’s size. Bare wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, and wooden furniture litters the room. The fireplace provides a crackling ambience, as well as enough heat to warm me to my toes.
When the door closes with a click behind me, I jump. We’re alone now, just the two of us. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the bed for long. I’ll be on it soon. And he’ll be on it and then we’ll be on it together…
Gods, but I feel like I’m going to throw up. And this fucking headache won’t go away anytime soon. And I’m tired and hungry…
Leith circles me, sliding two fingers beneath my chin so he can get a good look at my face. His eyes are searching and not unkind.
“Sit,” he says, pulling a wooden chair from its spot by the fireplace.
I sit. The heat of the fire washes over me, cradling me in comforting warmth. It would almost be worth fucking him just to stay in this room for a while. I’m so tired. My body aches. I just want to sleep. And eat something.
Leith crosses the room, rummages in one of the drawers in his desk, and emerges with a small box. As he walks back over to me, its contents rattle as I wonder what the bear is up to now.
He withdraws two vials from the interior. One, I recognize instantly—the shimmering tangerine hue is hard to mistake for anything else. It’s poppy juice, the newest drug being bandied about the wealthier circles in Fantasia. Leith doesn’t strike me as a pill-popper, though, and I can’t imagine the quantity needed to dose a werebear.
Leith unstoppers the vial and dips a finger inside it, withdrawing it just as quickly. On his finger, a perfect dewdrop forms. The stuff smells like raspberries. He offers me his finger. “Take it.”
“I don’t want to get high,” I say, shaking my head. I’ve never had any sort of drug or potion or whatever. No reason to start now. In my line of work, if you don’t have your mental faculties about you, it could mean your death.
“One drop won’t incapacitate you. It has pain-relieving properties. Trust me, you’re going to want it,” he continues as I wonder what he’s going on about.
Gods, is his cock that big that I’ll need a painkiller to take it? Is he going to rip me in half? Will losing my maidenhead hurt that much?
“It won’t be pleasant to clean and seal your wounds,” he finishes as I shake my head inwardly at myself.
Kassidy, you need to calm the fuck down if you’re going to get yourself out of this situation alive!
I almost refuse, just to be contrary. But in the end, practicality wins out. It’ll be easier to escape if I’m not in pain. I grip his finger, flicking my tongue over the tip before guiding the rest of it inside my mouth. Tangy sweetness coats the inside of my mouth at once and I groan a little in the back of my throat. The stuff absorbs almost instantly. Now I understand why it’s so popular. Even a small amount feels incredible.
Leith shudders, hazel eyes bleeding to the gold-brown of his bear form as he watches me, no doubt wishing something else of his was in my mouth instead. I give his finger another lick, hoping to distract him. The more eager he is, the less likely he’ll be to notice my ploy before it’s too late.
He draws his finger from the heat of my mouth and clears his throat. “Give me your hands.”
I present them dutifully, wincing as I finally get a good look at the damage done. The only reason the pain isn’t overwhelming when I awoke was the cold. The numbness might have been uncomfortable, but it was better than this.
Leith plucks a pair of tweezers from the box and bends his head over my hands, removing bits of bark and dirt from all over my palms and fingers. Even with the poppy juice in my system, it still stings.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, frowning down at the top of his head.
“You’re injured.”
“So I’m not a cad. Did you think I’d just flip you onto your knees and rut you while you were in pain and wounded?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I was expecting.” It’s all experience has taught me to expect. Aside from Sabre, Titus, and Draven, almost every man I’ve met has been a pig. Drunks, layabouts, letches, and whoremongers. Even Peter doesn’t take women seriously.
The only three men I ever met who were worth a damn, aside from my brothers, are the dragon shifters. But they’re already spoken for.
My silence is answer enough. Leith snorts, picking more debris from my wounds.
“You must have had bad luck with men?”
I almost tell him I’ve had no experience with men, or even a man, whatsoever. But I’m afraid that information might put him off, and then I’ll have to rework the whole plan. So I stay silent.
When he’s through, he unstoppers the second vial—this time a light topaz color—and dribbles the contents onto my hands. Where the liquid touches me, the flesh begins to mend immediately. The blood soaks back into my skin and the open wounds begin to seal. By the time the liquid has seeped through my fingers, my wounds are almost sealed. They look weeks instead of hours old.
“What is that stuff?” I ask, quiet wonderment thick in my tone.
“Liquid Ambrosia. It’s the most concentrated form.”
“Hmm, it seems to be helping my headache too,” I say as I feel my health improving with each passing second.
He smiles at me and I feel my breath catch. Leith is a beautiful man. On the inside and the outside—well, as far as I can tell anyway. It’s almost a shame that I’m about to betray him. Almost.
“That form of Ambrosia is very difficult to make,” he continues. “Be grateful for it, Nash wouldn’t have wanted me to give it to you.”
“Yeah, well, Nash is a cock.”
Leith drops his head back and opens his mouth as a deep chuckle shakes his whole body. It makes me smile and I find myself instantly growing warmer towards him. I imagine he makes a pretty good king.
Stop smiling at him, Kassidy! I reprimand myself. And stop thinking he’s nice! He’s not! He’s going to force himself into you in a minute with that gigantic appendage of his…
No, he’s not, I argue. Because I’m going to zap him of his power well before then!
Well, maybe wait to zap him until after you feel the tip of that behemoth cock inside you?
What? No! What’s wrong with you?
It’s just… you’ve never felt the tip of a cock inside you before.
And I’m not going to fucking well start now!
Just a little feel of it?
No, and you shut up!
“Goldilocks?” Leith asks and looks at me with a question in his eyes.
I shake my head. “Sorry… I, uh, was just having an argument with myself.”
“You were what?”
I shake my head harder this time. “Nevermind.” Then I stare down at my hands, clenching them experimentally. “Wow, the wounds are basically healed!” This is exactly why we need that Ambrosia! Does he know how many casualties the Guild could prevent if he’d just give us what we need?
“Yes.”
But I am grateful to him. Grateful he’s not a tyrant. Grateful he’s trusting enough to let me get close so I can betray him. I don’t relish the truth of what I’m going to do, but it’s necessary, all the same.
I’m not ready to lose my virginity to a man I don’t know and I don’t want to have sex with Nash, or Sorren, for that matter. But, the biggest hurdle of all is that I don’t want to lose valuable time here for weeks on end when I could be doing Guild business.
Time to stop stalling.
Right. I have to get that Ambrosia and escape.
I’ll probably only have fifteen to twenty minutes to find my things and slip away. I stand, shedding Leith’s coat in one fluid movement. It leaves me bare before his gaze.
His eyes sweep over me before he can stop them, lingering on my breasts and the vee between my legs with a frankly animalistic hunger. But he doesn’t make a move toward me.
“This doesn’t have to happen tonight, Goldilocks,” he says, voice dipping into an even lower octave. The timbre of his voice thrums through me, making my legs weak. “You are still healing from your injuries. I don’t relish causing you pain.”
I tilt my face up, trying my best to imitate Neva, my former traveling companion. She was a dancer at a raunchy tavern and I watched the way she looked and acted around her dragon lovers. She radiated sensuality without even trying. I’m hoping I learned a few things from her. And now’s the time to find out.
“Kiss me, Leith,” I murmur. “Taste the… oasis of delight that is… my mouth.”
A slight chuckle emanates from deep within him and I feel myself flush.
The oasis of delight that is my mouth? I groan. You’re lucky he’s still standing here, willing to do this!
Oh, shut up!
“Leith,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes to make them appear more… sultry. “I want to… take… your disproportionally large… man snake into…”
“Stop,” he interrupts with a shake of his head as he tries to hide his smile but loses and another chuckle escapes. “Perhaps it would be best if you… didn’t continue to speak.”
“Oh,” I say as my eyes pop open and I find him staring down at me with the expression of amusement.
“You don’t have to try to impress me,” he says in a soft voice as he reaches forward and brushes his fingers down the line of my face. “I’m already impressed.”
“You are?” I swallow hard, not really sure how it could be that I’ve impressed him. With what?
“Yes,” he nods. “I’m impressed with your tenacity, your courage,” he says as I hang on his every word. I’m not used to compliments so I’m eating this up. “I’m impressed with the way your eyes burned bloody fire at Nash,” he says on a chuckle. “And I’m impressed with the way this eyebrow arches mighty high when you’re affronted,” he continues as he reaches up and runs the pad of his index finger over my left eyebrow. “And I’m impressed by the beauty of your eyes. I’ve truly never seen their equal,” he breathes as he trails his finger down the tip of my nose. “And your little, pixie nose,” he says, before he brings his finger to my lips. “And the rosebud that is your sweet mouth.”
The sound that comes from him then is half growl, half moan. It weakens my knees and I feel like I might fall. He scoops me into his arms before my legs can buckle, crushing me to his broad chest. His mouth comes down on mine and I practically convulse in his arms. Everything in me clenches tight with need.
What is this man doing to me?
I don’t know, but he really says the sweetest things…
His mouth is hot, desperate. And his kiss doesn’t stay innocent long. His tongue flicks along the seam of my mouth and I gasp, giving him the opening he needs. He tastes every inch of me with tongue and teeth, almost like he’s trying to eat me whole. Now is the perfect time to snatch his power, while he’s so distracted.
But I can hardly think past a haze of lust.
I want him.
Oh my Gods, Kassidy, I want him!
Please just the tip of that enormous cock! Please please please!
Gods, why do I want him so much? We’re strangers. Enemies even.
Without even realizing what I’m doing, I seize one of his big, calloused hands and guide it between my legs. He groans even louder when his fingers touch me. I’m beyond slick already, embarrassingly wet. I need him to touch me or I’m going to combust, leaving nothing but cinders on his mossy rugs.
He groans into my mouth, sliding my folds open with two fingers, exploring me. His thumb finds the bud at the apex of my sex and strokes it with incredible precision.
“Gods,” I pant when he lets me breathe. “Oh, Gods, Leith. I... I’m going to…”
I never get a chance to finish the sentence.
Blinding white ecstasy ripples through me like a wave and my entire body goes as taut as a bowstring. My mouth opens, and I barely recognize my own voice screaming his name as the first orgasm rides me. I don’t stop screaming either. I bury my nails into his back and scream my fucking head off as my body ripples with pleasure.
My knees finally give out and then it’s only Leith holding me up, still crushing me against his chest. His teeth test the skin of my neck, and the sweet pain-pleasure of it threatens to bring me to orgasm again. He grinds his front against me, letting me feel all those inches of his cock.
And I want them. I want every single inch inside me. I know I shouldn’t. Maybe it’s some werebear magic he’s using on me. The Huntsmen of the Order Aves are all supernaturally alluring—maybe it’s the same with bears.
What if he’s bewitching you? I think. What if this burning need you’re feeling is just artifice, just a response to his magic?
That thought gives me the presence of mind to return to my original plan, instead of allowing him to hoist me onto the bed and fuck me into oblivion the way I want him to. I slide a hand up his bicep, trail my nails—what’s left of them, anyway—up to his neck, twining my fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck. I tug lightly and draw a half-growl from him.
“On the bed,” I pant.
He grunts in agreement and lifts me off the floor, carrying me the last few feet to the bed, before depositing me on it roughly. I bounce a little and then settle. I expect him to reach for his trousers, to bare that huge cock and line himself up with my entrance. But again, he surprises me.
He sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed, nudging my legs apart, spreading me until my glistening sex is revealed to his ravenous gaze. And he stares at me. Stares at the flesh between my legs for a good few seconds.
“Wha… What are you doing?” This wasn’t the plan! As far as I understand it, he’s supposed to climb on top of me.
“No questions,” he says as he spreads me open wider, running his nose along my inner thigh and inhaling like he’s gauging the bouquet of a glass of wine. He slips the fingers that were inside me into his mouth and makes a hungry sound. Fuck, it’s so wrong. But it’s sexy as hell.
