by Vonna Harper
“So you’re more bear than man, are you? Tell me, how would an Enyeto react to this?” She rolled a little one way and then the other, keeping her breasts with their taut nipples against him. The nonstop electrical charges going off throughout her short-circuited her mind.
Ber or Songan and what did it matter? Bear or elk, both dominated their world—and her, if she wasn’t careful.
“Enough, damn it!” Rough fingers gripped her arms, and Ber pushed her back as far as he could without letting go, shaking her as he did.
Feeling as if she was melting, she sank to her knees. Even with him guiding her journey, she started to tip forward. She rested her cheek against his leg until she regained her balance and a measure of self-control. Only then did she acknowledge his cock.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” she asked, hoping to convince him she’d landed where she had on purpose.
On the tail of a deep breath, he ran his fingers into her hair. His fingertips against her scalp tore into her. She could remain on her knees before him forever, his prisoner and sex slave, bound and willing.
But if that’s all she did, he’d never understand her, and he’d remain a stranger to her.
“I take your silence as a no,” she said. “You figured you had to rope and tie me in order to get me to listen. What you didn’t count on is how I’d react, the whole female response thing.”
“Go on.”
“My reactions, damn it. I’m not some sow bear in heat. I’m not going to stick my rump in your face.”
“I didn’t say you would.”
“You’re sure as hell acting like it. But you’re wrong. For one, I’m not in heat. There’s a lot more to me than the instinct to procreate.”
“I know that.”
Maybe, maybe not. The only thing she was sure of was that she was no longer interested in what he was thinking. How could that matter with his feet, legs, hips and cock scant inches away? Licking her lips, she touched them to his erection. He rocked back on his heels but didn’t shove her away. God, but he was beautiful! Sexy in a rough, untamed way. Stimulating parts of her that hated the word no.
Filling her lungs, she opened her mouth, leaned forward and brought him into her. She made no comparisons, lived fully in the moment. Ber tasted like the wilderness and more, the more beyond her ability to find words for. His veins were so swollen she wondered if they might burst, prompting her to bathe them in warm saliva. Dizzy and light-headed, she withdrew. Then, moving so fast her head didn’t stand a chance of clearing, she again housed him. Laid claim to him much as he’d done to her.
His hold on her hair tightened. Beyond caring what he might do, she turned her head to the side, taking him with her via the strength in her lips.
Groaning, he relaxed his hold. She did the same. Then, propelled by her clenching sex muscles, she worked more of his length into her until his tip pressed against the back of her throat. Gagging, she paused before coming at him again. She’d swallow him, that’s what she’d do, take him so far into her that he’d never find his way out.
As for why she wanted to do this—no, she wouldn’t go there!
Light-headed was good. Light-headed made mouth-fucking Ber easy. Her thoughts swimming, she worshipped his width and length, smelled him, tasted him.
He started working with her, arching into her and pulling back, guiding her head one way or the other by his hold on her hair. Her belly tightened and stayed that way as she pummeled and was pummeled. Moisture dribbled from the corners of her mouth. Wet heat flowed from her pussy. His harsh, erratic breathing pounded through her.
A gust of cold air struck her right side. She went still.
“Winter’s coming,” Ber said. “That’s all. Nothing to concern ourselves with.”
How right he was. Nothing and no one else mattered. Dismissing the chill, she pushed his foreskin back with her tongue.
He might be saying or trying to say something, but as long as his balls pressed against her chin and her teeth lightly raked his length, she didn’t care. Unfortunately, bobbing about with her jaws wide open was getting to her. Not sure where the idea had come from, she turned her head to the side so his tip pressed against her cheek.
Feeling like a dog with a bone, she growled. Releasing her hair, Ber clamped his hands over the sides of her face. Once more his tip grazed her throat.
Was the crotch rope getting tighter? Maybe her sex juices were making it shrink. No matter. She loved having her body’s heat trapped inside her. Determined to increase the sensation, she pressed her thighs together. The soft fibers against her labial lips belonged there.
Tightening his hold, Ber pushed her back a few inches. Holding on with all the strength left in her aching jaw, she met his gaze.
“Damn you,” he muttered. “Damn you.”
Sensing the truth behind the curse, she pushed him out and licked his balls and cock. Moisture beaded on his tip. Thirsty, she lapped. She’d become a cat, an insistent, rough-tongued cat.
Ber groaned. The pressure against her cheeks abruptly ended. Eyes closing, she once more claimed his cockhead and leaned back. A moment later, she rocked forward.
It didn’t matter who or what he was, what name, if any, he went by. His agenda.
Back. Forward. Back once more. Her pussy hot and tight.
“Ah! Ah!” he bellowed. “Shit, yes!”
Sticky heat filled her mouth. Unexpected tears burned behind her lids. Crazed, she stayed with him.
“Ah yes!” His fingers pressed against her temples. “Oh shit, yes!”
Her mind spinning and vaginal muscles twitching, she swallowed what she could of his discharge. The rest ran down the sides of her mouth. When he’d given her all he had, she slowly freed him. Remained drunk on his taste.
She wouldn’t open her eyes, not yet! Not until—
Whining low and desperate, she rocked her hips from side to side so the rope rubbed against her hot flesh. Still whining, she twisted about while lifting and lowering her body. A flame licked.
Ber’s come was inside her, sliding down her throat and reaching her stomach. He’d taken ownership of her arms and declared mastery over her sex.
Damn him!
On the heels of her oath, she climaxed. Shaking, she slumped over and onto the ground.
When, finally, she could, she looked up at him. Night had taken another forward step. She could no longer see her captor and lover’s features. Shadows clung to his limbs and torso, rendering them indistinct. Now they could belong to any man.
Chapter Ten
Because of space limitations, the hot water heater held only twenty gallons, but as she stood in the steaming spray, Rane wasn’t sure she could make herself get out of the shower even after the water turned cold. A few minutes ago, she’d been asleep; at least she thought she had been. As dreams went, the one she’d just wakened from was above the top of the chart.
Dream, yes, damn it!
Maybe.
Turning her back to the water, she ran a washcloth over her face and opened her eyes. She hadn’t bothered with lights until she’d made her way from her bedroom to the one bathroom and deliberately hadn’t looked at herself in the mirror while waiting for the water to heat. Her arms burned, but when she looked at them, she saw no sign of rope marks. There was also no evidence that a rope had pressed against her belly.
Doing what she needed to, she reached behind her and hesitantly ran her hand between her ass cheeks. Nope, no overly sensitive skin there. After hanging the washcloth over the cold water handle, she leaned forward, spreading her legs as she did. Leery of her reaction to touching herself there, she experimentally fingered her labial lips and clit. They were responsive, all right, but then they always were.
More to the point, they weren’t swollen or sore.
Groaning, she straightened and rubbed her mouth. No soreness there either, and she didn’t taste anything except toothpaste residue.
So Ber hadn’t captured her? There’d been no less th
an intelligent conversation between them? He hadn’t forced her to endure a crotch rope, and she hadn’t given him head?
The bathroom was cold, prompting her to back into the spray so it caressed her shoulders and spine. By morning, she told herself, she’d have everything pulled together. No wonder she was confused right now—she was half asleep.
Except for one little item, she had nothing to worry about.
By the time the water started to cool, she still hadn’t managed to convince herself to face that item. Turning the faucet all the way on gave her another minute of comfort, but long before she was ready to leave the wet cocoon, she started shivering. Stepping out, she wrapped a towel around herself. Then, although a niggling voice warned that she didn’t want to do that, she grabbed the hand towel and wiped steam from the mirror.
The face waiting for her belonged on a woman who’d been through a hell of a lot. Her eyes blatantly said she was exhausted. Her skin seemed to droop a bit, which reminded her of her mother.
“All right!” she snapped. “I should look hot and bothered and in need of some serious masturbation. Instead, I feel not satisfied but damn close.”
And confused, she silently added.
More than a little lost.
After drying off and applying moisturizer, Rane had put back on her nightgown, but despite the weariness tugging at her, she knew she wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon, so she went into the living room. After grabbing a throw to put over her legs, she curled up in the recliner and turned the TV on. She found an all-night news station but paid little attention to what the two overly chipper anchors were saying. Ber had been the last person to sit in this chair, and she caught hints of the essence he’d left behind. Just like Songan, the bear shifter was too large to comfortably fit in the recliner. If she was going to have a couple of mountain men for gentlemen callers, she needed to buy appropriate furniture.
A burst of pain between her eyes distracted her. Much as she hated facing the cause, hiding from it would only delay the inevitable. Bottom line, at the end of the dream, she’d been unsure whether she was with Ber or Songan. Okay, so it was a dream, maybe. Okay, so she had no control over whatever had or hadn’t taken place, but what if there was meaning behind the confusion?
A shiver had her pulling the throw up around her neck. Leaning forward, she tried to concentrate on the weather report, but what was the use? Not only did the recliner smell of Ber, Songan had left something of himself in the fabric and padding.
No woman needed two shape-shifters in her life.
She certainly didn’t.
However…
Songan had told Rane he wasn’t sure when he’d next see her, but three days after leaving her in the forest, he stepped onto her porch and knocked on the door. Her truck was in the driveway, which meant he hadn’t come in vain. When after maybe a half minute, she hadn’t opened the door, he tried the knob. To his surprise, he discovered she’d locked it.
Things change, he acknowledged as he knocked again. He didn’t fully comprehend how much and in how many ways her mother’s murder had altered her life and probably should ask, but she had a way of looking disappointed and a little sad when he pumped her for personal information. Apparently she expected him to already know what she was thinking and feeling. However, he seldom did. Truth be told, he didn’t know why what she called human intuition was so important. Her mother’s violent death upset and saddened her. He understood that. Wasn’t that enough?
“Who is it?” she asked from behind the door.
“Me, Songan.” Strange, he hadn’t heard her approaching. Had she tiptoed?
“What are you doing here? I thought—”
“Are you going to let me in?”
The old lock gave a rusty groan, and he found himself looking at her. Seeing her hair down and drifting around her face instead of corralled like usual knocked him off balance. Given what he’d decided to tell her, he’d nearly convinced himself he could concentrate on passing on certain information without sexual attraction getting in the way. Obviously, he was wrong.
She was staring at him as if she didn’t quite recognize him, so he stepped in. The way she backed away instead of reaching for him surprised him, not that he’d say anything. Turning his back to her, he walked into the living room. It smelled of her and the several plants she’d brought with her from wherever she’d been living. Why she wanted growing things inside when there was so much vegetation around was another mystery he might never fathom.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she said. “Figured you’d be otherwise occupied.”
So had he, he acknowledged as he settled himself in his usual chair. A faint male scent lingered in it.
“I was at Wolverine this morning,” he said.
The way she reared back told him he probably shouldn’t have been so direct. Was there no end to the things he needed to be aware of around her? If only sensitivity came easier, or she didn’t matter so much.
“Why?” she asked and sat on the couch across from him.
“It seemed like something I should do.”
“Without me and before the end of rut?”
“It’s close enough to the end.”
She nodded. “What you’re trying to say is you’ve mounted everything that can be mounted.”
“It’s more than that. Rane, I don’t want you going to Wolverine if there’s a possibility of danger.”
Her mouth tightened. “It can’t be any worse than what happened to Mom. I’m sorry.” She ran her ringless hand into her hair. “I didn’t mean—did you see anything?”
“No. There are so many smells, it’s impossible to separate them.”
“Human smells, you mean?”
Now it was his turn to nod. Rane had on jeans and a too-big flannel shirt he concluded had belonged to her mother. Even with the extra fabric, he saw enough of her body that his responded. The bull elk in him might be satiated, the man not at all.
“Nothing fresh,” he told her. “That’s what I wanted you to know, that I’m not sure we’re going to find anything.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You needed to—”
“What I need is the truth.” She leaned back, only to straighten and rest her elbows on her knees. “And to connect with her one last time.”
“What do you mean?”
Suddenly pale, Rane held up a hand as if to ward him off. “Never mind. That’s between Mom and me.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” The word sounded fierce, angry and defensive. Even he got that. “Back to what you just said, between the searchers who found her body and law enforcement, a lot of people have tromped all over the area. And it’s rained. I get that.” Her gaze stayed on him as she gnawed her lower lip. “Oh yes, let’s don’t forget that whoever killed her was also there.”
Still watching him, she began rubbing her knees. “Songan, are you telling me you’ve changed your mind about going there with me? Maybe you think the only way to insure I won’t fall apart is by keeping me here.”
“If I could, I would. There was frost when I got there. If there’s a storm between now and when we reach—”
“What if we go today?” Eyes bright, she stood. “How’d you get here? I didn’t hear a vehicle.”
“I ran.”
Her nod said she understood he hadn’t changed into human form until he’d reached where he kept his clothes.
“We’ll take my rig. It’ll get us within about five miles of the Wolverine cabin. I have enough food here to hold us in case we have to stay overnight. I’m not sure my mother’s sleeping bag is long enough for you. You might—what am I saying, you can switch to elk.”
Watching her, he knew he’d never be able to talk her out of this. The weather had concerned him, not for himself, of course, but a decent storm could blanket Wolverine in snow all winter. This might be her last chance, her one opportunity to make good on her promise to her mother.
The area know
n as Wolverine had felt of death. That’s what he should be telling her.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said, feeling inadequate.
Walking over to where he sat, she placed her hands on the armrests and stared at him. No matter that his strength far outstripped hers, he’d never doubt her determination. “If you don’t go with me, I know someone who will.”
Anger momentarily rendered him mute. He couldn’t remember when he’d last experienced the emotion and didn’t know how to handle it. “Who? The other man to sit in this chair?”
Disbelief followed by acceptance transformed her expression. “I should have known you’d sense—”
“Not sense—smell.” Taking hold of her wrists, he pulled her onto his lap.
“Let me go!” She tried to slap him. “I hate being manhandled.”
“No, you don’t.”
“This time I do. I mean it, let me go.”
The bull elk who’d spent the summer bulking up pressed against Songan’s skin. If he wasn’t careful, the animal would break through. That, more than Rane’s insistence, made him release her. The moment he did, she scrambled to her feet, but instead of running out of the room or ordering him to leave, she stared at him while rubbing her arms.
“What?” he asked at length.
“I’m trying to make sense of something. A lot of somethings.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Never mind. What’s it going to be? Will you go with me, or do I ask him?”
Him had a name, not that he wanted to know it. “I’ll go.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, when of course it did. Watching her rub her arms with her eyes big and vulnerable, he vowed to do whatever it took to keep her alive. To make a lie of the aura of death deep in the mountains.
“I appreciate you telling me,” Deputy Gannon told Rane when she called him after deciding to take both her pistol and her mother’s rifle. Eager as she was to start what she’d been wanting to do for too long, she also needed to get out of the house. To put distance between herself and the nightly erotic Ber-filled dreams. “And I understand what’s driving you, but I wish I could stop you.”
