Shifted

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  Kelly quivered from head to toes. When she floated back to reality, the first thing she noticed was the golden god’s satisfied smile through the mirror, then the fact that his cock was still hard inside her.

  He bent down, kissed the back of her shoulder lovingly, and yanked her up from her position. He carried her to the other room, which turned out to be the bathroom. Kelly panted, a tiny part of her mind questioning his intent. Moments later, it hit her. He hadn’t finished.

  Kelly lamented in silence. How many rounds would this man need until he was sated? She felt wrecked from her orgasm, and all she wanted right now was to crash down to the floor and curl up to sleep for at least twelve hours.

  “Nice and easy, kitten,” he told her, putting her feet back on the floor. He positioned her body the way he wanted, with her hands against the sink’s ledge, her ass semi-upturned, ready for the taking. Her knees wobbled, unable to support her own weight. Her rapture had robbed most of her strength. He snatched her waist and anchored her to stay still. Spreading her thighs open with his knee, he parted her ass cheeks with his hands. He slid his finger into her anus.

  Kelly’s eyes widened. The initial penetration shocked her. She’d never been taken there, in her ass. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean? You’re not in the mood for this today?”

  A mournful moan escaped her throat. It seemed that Nicky wasn’t a stranger with this sex act, but her…she was an anal virgin. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it this way. This was downright outrageous. She’d never…

  He collected her juice and lubricated her with it. Kelly shouted again. It came so fast, before she’d registered what had happened, he’d thrust in, shoving his hard cock into her ass, splitting her open like he had with her pussy. He groaned inhumanly, driving himself all the way in. He wasn’t trying to be gentle like before. He seemed eager to finish what he’d started. New fire seared through her endorphin-laden systems. Her inner cat got excited again.

  “Fuck, Nick, you feel so fucking good”—he paused, taking a deep breath—“every time.” He had stretched her beyond the impossible. Silky tendrils of pleasure crept through her spine, paralysing her for a moment. She lost her breath again. It was too much. Too damn much…

  But there was pure pleasure the moment he started to fuck her again. His cock slid in and out, slow at first, then becoming brutal as he picked up speed. Kelly had no choice but to brace against the flood. His thrusts were relentless, bordering on savage. She could only feel the fire. Her mind blanked. Tears stained her cheeks.

  The sensations were beyond words. Pleasure and pain. The combination was so exquisite, Kelly found herself tethered at the edge of another orgasm. He plundered her hungry asshole, ramming her with short, battering strokes. She gasped for air. Her muscles tensed, screaming for mercy. Her pussy clenched, feeling neglected. Her heart hammered in her throat.

  All of a sudden, he plunged two fingers into her pussy, fucking her with the same primal need as he ravaged her ass. Kelly exploded. She could hear her ear-splitting shout storm the bathroom, and red fireworks burst up before her eyes. Her sphincter milked his shaft in waves of orgasmic spasms. Her pussy quivered around his juice-laden fingers. Her climax was beyond explosive, it was a mind-blowing release.

  God. Kelly was amazed, savouring the incandescent ferocity of her climax. When it ebbed away, she could feel his body trembling and a harsh male cry sang the same song. His cock convulsed inside her ass, pumping jets of cum.

  She was still drunk with her orgasm when he pulled his fingers out of her cunt and gave a playful spank on her pussy lips. Kelly yelped. She savoured the exquisiteness of pleasure and moaned when he pulled his spent cock out of her well-abused asshole. She collapsed, knees hitting the floor, feeling no strength left. Her inner cat was tamed. Sated.

  “There, there,” he cooed so lovingly, spooning his body behind her, cocooning her in a tight embrace, consoling her. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

  Kelly wanted to laugh. Good? That was the most explosive orgasm she’d ever experienced in her life. Envy stabbed at the pit of her heart. This Nicky woman had this carnal pleasure every morning? What a lucky woman.

  “Come, kitten, I’ll bathe you.” He voiced an order to the house Artificial Intelligence. The shower stall door opened automatically and jets of water sprayed out. He carried her in there and lathered her all over with soap. Kelly melted, swooning with his display of affection. It was bliss. He alternated his rubs with kisses and tender nips, leaving her deeply intoxicated with lust. She’d never thought that sex could be this good, so intimate. She’d never had this experience with Andi, not even when they’d been on their honeymoon and very much in love.

  After he’d finished washing her, he carried her back to bed. He then went to take a shower while Kelly stayed in bed, basking in the afterglow. The sleepiness was about to lull her back into a dreamland when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. A movie disc was lying on the nightstand. Kelly scooted over and grabbed it. What she saw caused blood to surge through her veins again.

  Now everything started to make sense, who she was now and who the man who had just given her the most explosive orgasm in her life was. His name was Tyler Roche. Kelly saw another replica of Tyler sandwiching her on the cover. It appeared Tyler had a twin brother, Gunnar.

  Kelly’s eyes became fixed by the woman on the cover who was being pinned by the two alphas. Her face was frozen in a mask of ecstasy, body glistening in sweat and lust. Her hair was in disarray, and her makeup smeared from perspiration, but she still looked breathtaking. Temptress of lust. Goddess of sex. The name printed on the cover was Nicolla Evers—the blonde woman whose body she was trapped inside.

  She was a porn star.

  Chapter Two

  Nicolla Evers had been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for the last half-hour, trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with her. Technically, there was nothing wrong with her mentally, except for the fact that this morning she’d woken up as a different person. In a different house. In a different bedroom with a different man in her bed. Nicolla also suspected she was married too. A simple gold ring wrapped around her finger, next to an engagement ring that was decorated with a big rock.

  She looked in the mirror, cringing to see her new look. Her eyes were brown now, and she had a small nose and petulant lips. Her hair was brunette, cut in a boring style. She was a petite woman with a small waist and generous hips. Her skin was so pale she looked like one of those hermits who hadn’t seen sunlight in years.

  Nicolla slapped her forehead. Holy fucking God, what the hell happened? Did I accidentally get transported into bizarre-world somehow?

  She saw a woman’s purse on the vanity. Nicolla dug into it and found the wallet. She yanked it open, in a hurry to find the ID. A holographic projection materialised before her when she pressed the slim card’s ‘on’ button. It told her she was now Kelly Jamieson White, aged twenty-nine. Fancy-pants lawyer for some fancy-pants firm. Married to an investment banker named Andrew White. Must be the tall, dark stranger in the bed. No children. No siblings. Closest living relative, Kelly’s mother, lived in Le Bourdeux, and was currently a senator in the parliament.

  Good fucking grief. Nicolla shoved the card back into the wallet, her heart pounding. How had this happened? One night she was a smut peddler, and the next morning, she was one of the snotty socialites, living among the Normies. She muttered a string of curses under her breath, but stopped when she realised someone was standing in front of her. Kelly’s handsome hubby.

  He stood towering against the bathroom door, all six-foot-three of solid muscle, a testament that he really took good care of himself. His short brown hair was tousled from sleeping, but that made him look even sexier. Nicolla noticed he had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. And his lips, which were too pretty for a man, were totally made for kissing. A faded T-shirt wrapped his tall frame, and the short boxers he wore shyly moulded to his mag
nificent cock. And this guy wasn’t even aroused yet. Nicolla swallowed her amusement in silence. Kelly was one lucky bitch.

  “What?” she asked, when the man just stood there staring at her with his mouth half open.

  “You swore.”

  “So?”

  “You feeling okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I never heard you cussing before.”

  No shit. Kelly was apparently a Ms Prissy too. Snotty lawyer with a rich, influential mother and a handsome husband, living in a perfect world of upper class society. Nicolla hated her already.

  Andrew White brushed past her, heading straight to the shower. Nicolla blinked in confusion. What, no good morning kiss or that kind of shit? They were fucking married, right?

  “Honey,” she called him. He gave her the look again. “What?”

  Andrew didn’t answer. He only took his shirt off and disappeared behind the shower door. Nicolla cursed again in silence. What kind of twisted married couple were they?

  Nicolla watched in dismay as Andrew left the house. He went without saying goodbye or exchanging any pleasantry like a normal couple would. He only nodded at her, sipped his coffee then hurried off to work. This left Nicolla puzzled. Were they mad at each other? Had they been in a big fight? It didn’t feel like they were fighting. If they were, she didn’t sense any hostility between them. Their reserve towards each other felt as if they were two strangers who just happened to be in the same boat, trying to be civil for the long trip.

  She jumped when the inhuman voice of the house AI announced she had a phone call. The vid comm screen on the kitchen wall flickered alive. Nicolla almost snorted in her coffee when she saw the person who was making the call. It was herself. Well, someone who inhabited her body. Nicolla shivered, freaking out. This whole thing just felt so fucking wrong.

  “You! I demand to know who you are.”

  “Jesus,” Nicolla replied. “Do I really sound all whiney like that? I always thought I sounded sexy.”

  “Answer my question!”

  “Bitch, you ain’t gonna get any answer if you keep your attitude like that.”

  “But, this…isn’t me. I don’t know how this happened, but you’re in my body.”

  “You’re Kelly White?”

  “Yes. Wait—how do you know my name?”

  “Well, you’re in my body.”

  “You’re Nicolla Evers—the porn star?”

  “I’m a legitimate actress,” Nicolla snapped, feeling cross. “I’ve starred in many successful movies, and I have the biggest fan base in the industry.”

  “Sure,” Kelly replied in a cynical tone. “I bet that’s a hard job, flaunting your titties and opening your legs all day for the camera.”

  “Well, maybe if you didn’t let your ass become as big as a footstool, your husband would pay you more attention.”

  “My behind is perfectly fi— Wait, you met Andi?”

  “Yeah, what’s up with him?”

  Kelly inched closer to the cam. She looked panicked. “Did he know? Did you say anything to him?”

  “Your husband is an ice king. How long has this been going on? Did he screw around behind your back?”

  “Andi would never—” Kelly stopped midway through the sentence. She sniffed indignantly. “It’s not your business. What did you say to him?”

  “I didn’t say nothin’.”

  Kelly glowered. An awkward moment passed between them. “Well, we still have a problem.”

  “Good fucking observation, genius.”

  “Listen, you—” The word ‘bitch’ seemed to almost jump from Kelly’s mouth. Nicolla fought hard not to laugh. “Did Andi notice?”

  “Notice what?”

  “That you’re a shifter?”

  Nicolla widened her eyes. “You’re a Misfit?” She frowned and flexed her fingers, willing herself to shift. Her inner cat wasn’t interested in playing—it ignored her completely. The cat within her was dormant. It had become almost non-existent, as if someone had renounced it for too long. Kelly’s body had something to do with it. “What are you?” she asked Kelly with suspicion.

  “I’m a lynxae.”

  “No shit, me too.”

  “You can’t tell Andi you’re a shifter. He never knew.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Do you think I would have made it this far if they knew I was a shifter?”

  “The blood skipped, didn’t it?”

  “Three generations. You?”

  “La-di-da! If it had skipped, I wouldn’t be living in the District, would I?”

  Kelly pursed her lips. “Well, we have to get this problem fixed. I can’t live like this forever. I’m not a porn star.”

  Nicolla folded her arms. “Oh, so my lifestyle is too degrading for you?”

  “I’m not good at—” Kelly paused. “Listen, I have an important meeting this morning, I mean, you have an important meeting. You have exactly one hour and twenty-seven minutes to—”

  “Fuck that shit, bitch, I ain’t going anywhere.”

  “Yes. You. Will.” Kelly brandished her fist in agitation. “Today is the most important day in my life—”

  “What, you and your beloved Andi are going to renew your marriage vows? You two could really use it.”

  Kelly’s face flushed from her dig. “They’re going to make me a partner and today is the confirmation interview. Now get your lazy butt to the shower and make yourself decent. For the love of God, whatever you do, you have to show up at that meeting.”

  “Are you crazy? I can’t go. I know nothing about your fancy-pants lawyer stuff. I’m a porn star, remember?”

  “Didn’t I say it was a confirmation meeting? All you have to do is sit nice and agree to what everybody has to say. It’s a piece of cake. Even a monkey could do it.”

  “Why don’t you just hire a monkey, then?”

  “Goddamn it! Look, if you’re posing as me, we have to make this work until we figure this whole thing out. Do you think I’m happy doing your job? Somebody just called me and asked if I had my…my…enema.” Kelly looked utterly horrified, the word spitting out of her mouth as if it would kill her if she said it too loud. “Why would I need that kind of procedure for a film shot?”

  Nicolla chortled. “Oh yeah, I forgot. I have, I mean, you gotta shoot a DP scene this afternoon.”

  “What’s a DP?”

  Nicolla’s chortle turned into a full-blown roar. “I don’t know if you’re truly innocent, or you’re just sexually retarded, but this is just hilarious.”

  Kelly’s face flushed deeper. “Lay off with the insults already. For your information, I’m not good in the sex department.”

  With a great effort, Nicolla refrained from her mirth. It still came out as guffaws. “I’m sorry. You’ll find out soon. You’ll like it, considering you’re married to an ice king.”

  Kelly shot her a stern look. “Make sure you arrive at my office at nine sharp. I’ll give you the complete rundown once you get there. Wear the navy suit I’ve already prepared in the boudoir. That goes with the black pumps. I put them next to it. My IDs and passkeys are in the purse—”

  “Are you always this bossy?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You know, sometimes men don’t like it when women get too bossy. Like your cute hubby, for example. Maybe he’s ignoring you because you tend to get too bossy.”

  Kelly stiffened. “What happens between us is not your problem.”

  “Hello, I’m living a life as you, remember? Sure it’s my fucking problem.”

  “Just get to the shower. I’ll call you again at nine sharp.” With a scowl, Kelly closed the connection. The vid comm screen died out.

  Nicolla exhaled a long breath. She didn’t like where this was going. All of a sudden, she needed her cigarettes badly. Kelly didn’t smoke, and Ms Prissy wouldn’t be happy if Nicolla started filling her precious lungs with nicotine.

  “Ugh.” Nicolla put her coffee cup
on the counter and headed to the shower. This day was going to be fucking great.

  Chapter Three

  The sight of the movie set scared the hell out of her. Kelly had never been into any studio complex, let alone an X-rated one. As she arrived on the set she was so overwhelmed by panic, the only thing she could hear was the sound of her pounding heartbeat. Kelly trudged to a chair and sank into it, feeling numb. I can’t do this. This is crazy. Nicolla is right. I’m sexually retarded. I’m horrible in bed, so what makes me think I can do this in front of the camera?

  “Miss Evers.”

  Kelly jumped.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the woman apologised. She was small, black-haired and dressed in a conservative manner. She looked almost too young to be working in a porn factory. Her nametag declared she was the assistant director and she was called Fitch. “Mr Strickland wanted to see you on the set.”

  “Who’s Strickland?”

  Fitch looked at her with wonder.

  “You know, the darnedest thing is”—Kelly mimicked Nicolla’s accent and hand gestures—“I had a wild party last night and this morning I woke up and can’t remember s-shit.” The curse word left a bad taste in her mouth. Kelly disliked profanities. Not because she’d been raised as a proper woman, but because she personally believed cursing was also demeaning to the person she was speaking to.

  Fitch seemed take no offence. “Mr Strickland is your manager, miss. Our boss. He owns this studio.”

  “Right,” Kelly slurred, pretending she was drunk. “And what movie am I supposed to shoot this afternoon?”

  “Fashionista. It’s a feature film, our biggest budgeted project this year.”

  “Right. What does Strickland want with me?”

  Fitch shoved a stack of hard copies in her hands. “This is your script. All printed on paper, just the way you like them. Mr Strickland wanted to make sure you remember your lines. We’re far behind our schedule because you kept forgetting your dialogue yesterday.”