His teeth came down on the back of her neck, just above her shoulder, and she exhaled in a long, high-shrill of a sigh as he nibbled her along her neck, each bite harder than the previous. The sensation took Celise somewhere between pleasure and pain and she trembled in his hold. His thick, firm lips went over the path he’d created with his teeth, now soothing with kisses. Then he repeated, alternating between nearly hurting her and then soothing her until she whimpered and buckled underneath him.
He guided her to the bed and pushed her forward with his weight, trapping her face first upon the bed underneath his body. Even through his pants she could clearly feel how hard, thick and long he was as he rubbed himself against her bottom, his breath and mouth still on the back of her neck and his thick fingers unhooking her bra.
Celise arched into him, giving him access to grind against her lace-covered sex more fully, and the sensation was so intense she felt herself immediately soak her panties. Jaxon yanked off the damp fabric from between her legs and flipped her around so fast her loose bra flew off. She barely had time to comprehend the fact she was now completely naked in front him, when he grabbed her by a leg and pulled it up against his shoulder and held it there with one hand. This position left her body tilted away from him at an angle, her ass hovering in the air, her sex opened and exposed to him, her breasts nearly blocking the view of his determined face.
She gasped out loud and then squeezed her eyes shut, biting her bottom lip to try to keep herself from yelping as he slid one of his large fingers into her. It was just a finger, one finger he had in her, and yet it provided so much needed heat and friction, so much fulfillment. He fingered her fast, hard and deep, pumping his middle-finger in and out, his knuckle bumping into her clitoris each time he re-entered, sending her into a melting mess of madness. She opened her eyes briefly to examine him—saw the look of near animalistic possessiveness that he wore as he watched her while he fucked her with this hand—and wished she hadn’t looked.
She didn’t want it to end, it felt so damn good. She wasn’t ready to orgasm yet. But it was too late. She was dissolving into a trillion molecules.
Chapter Seven
Jaxon tried to be as gentle as he could, but he knew he was fingering Celise something fierce. He made his eyes focus on her face, to try to gauge if he was being too rough or too fast for her. She opened her eyes then, and the look behind them confused him—it was as if she was looking into him, reading his soul. And then she came so hard on his finger, clenching at him, gushing so hot and wet and tight upon him that he almost came himself. She was still convulsing when he shoved down his pants and freed his dick, feeling the pre-cum on the tip.
He was so damn hard, so damn turned on, it hurt like hell. A vision kept replaying itself in his mind, of him inside of Celise, stretching her and pounding her hard. Now that he was intimately familiar with her body, he now knew it would take some extra effort to get himself inside her. She was so tight, and he was still not exactly experienced with working his new size, which was damn near pushing abnormal. No wonder she’d asked him to slow down the other night.
He was afraid he really could hurt her. And as horny as he was right now, he wasn’t so sure he could make himself move at the pace he knew he needed to without fucking her until she broke in half. He froze, keeping his body entirely still, closed his eyes and tried to count to ten.
“Jaxon?” she sat up and looked at him with those intoxicating green eyes. “What’s wrong, why did you stop?”
“That’s enough.”
“You didn’t get to come.” She reached for him, wrapped her soft hand around his throbbing dick, and he very, very nearly lost it. A frustrated groan escaped from his throat, but he forced himself to resist, and pried her fingers from his torture and got out of the bed.
“I think I should sleep in another room tonight.”
“Why? It’s okay, I want this, too.”
“Because I’m not myself, Celise. This isn’t me.”
“But it is, isn’t it? Just a you that’s uncensored.”
With trembling hands, he pulled up his pants. “You said you made something that might be able to suppress all of this, right?
“Well, yes, but it would suppress everything. Excitement, pleasure, fear, sadness, anger, passion, joy—everything.”
“Sounds fine, I’ll try it. Just—just stay away from me until then.” Before he could change his mind, he hurried to the door and down the hall. Any room would do, but his mind was exploding with the command that he needed to keep going further; every room was too close to hers. Which contradicted with the thought that he didn’t want to be too far, in the case he needed her to tranquilize him.
But no matter how much distance he put between himself and her room, it did nothing to ease the distance between himself and her. He could still feel her, smell her, hear her breath as if she were right beside him. It wasn’t until he stopped at a room at the end of the hall near the stairwell to gather himself and felt her hand on his arm, did he realize his inability to escape her closeness hadn’t all been in his head. She’d been following him.
“I’m not so sure I can.” She looked up at him with serious, sensual eyes. Still completely naked.
He stared at her for a moment, then blinked . “Not sure you can what?”
“Suppress your emotions. Or leave you alone.”
He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, agitated. He wanted to squander off somewhere, where he could kick some doors in, wreck some tables, knock around a couple of scientists for making him this way, then finally wack himself off to his wild content in peace. “Celise –”
“I have an idea for another experiment, and I believe this room has just the right equipment needed.” She gripped him by the arm and tugged him, gesturing with her head into the room he’d stopped near.
The muscles of his arm twitched where she touched, and he felt his vision go blurry with his increasing sexual frustration. She wasn’t allowing him the peace he needed to try to find release. He blew a heavy, exasperated gust of air through his nostrils. “The emotional suppressant?”
“No,” she guided him into the room, turned on the light, then closed and shut the door behind them. “I’d like you to try an emotional release.”
Those words confused him, but what he saw when he looked around the room confused him even more. The room was sparsely furnished, with just a tall cabinet with metal doors, an empty cart and a medical bed with leather straps on it. He wondered what “equipment” she thought was in this room that would help with an “emotional release”.
Jaxon glanced back at her with his head tilted in impatient confusion and barely contained restraint. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ll see. Come over here and lie upon the bed.” Her hand slid down his arm and gripped his hand as she tried to lead him. The intertwining of their fingers sent another bolt of lust through his veins that made him jerk backwards, yanking his hand from hers.
“Jaxon, if you would just lie –”
He spoke through gritted teeth. “No, you’re not getting it. I can’t lie down right now.”
“You’re not even trying.”
“I said I can’t!” Fury coursed through him, he balled a fist and slammed it into a wall. The drywall cracked and crumbled away under the force of his punch, leaving a hole more than twice the size of his fist. Shock at what he’d done stilled him for a moment.
Celise put a hand on his back and pushed at him until he found his feet moving. Her voice was a soothing, whispered command. “Come to the bed, Jaxon. I can help you.”
He complied, but tensed up as he was making himself horizontal. “You don’t understand how far gone I am. I’m unable to lie still right now.”
“See these straps on the side of the bed? They will help keep you still.”
He eyed the straps, then her with doubt. “They’re not going to hold me.”
“They’re reinforced leather, they should offer a bit of resi
stance. So long as you don’t try to fight them too hard.”
He nodded his agreement to cooperate. “Then hurry.”
He tried to stare up at the ceiling as Celise pulled the straps crisscrossed over his bare chest and secured them. The feeling of being restrained instantly created a rebellious impulse within, but he fought hard the urge to try to push himself up against them. He looked over at Celise, waiting to see what she was going to do next. When he felt her fingers undo his pants and then began tugging them down his thighs, he protested.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Just trust me.”
The issue wasn’t the lack of trust, it was the raging hard-on he still possessed, and he felt over-exposed. It took everything in him not to tear through those straps and get up from the table and cover himself. Then he laughed at himself. Seriously, after what he’d just done to her, after what she’d already seen, he was feeling embarrassed? Damn these emotions.
She tossed his pants upon the floor and smiled at him. The smile of a seductress. That sexy ass doctor. What the hell was she about to do to him with his hard dick out? He watched as she moved to the foot of the bed and climbed onto it. His heart started racing as she sat her naked ass on his legs, wrapped her hands around his dick and leaned forward.
“What the –”
The curse that came out of his mouth turned into a groan as Celise flicked her tongue around the head of his dick. She lapped at him, moving her hands around so she could lick him fully, up and down and all around until he was slippery slick.
Then her mouth was covering the head, or at least trying to. He watched as she struggled a bit, but then managed to stretch her mouth wide enough to take his girth into her mouth. She began to swallow him further, slowly at first, and he watched as most of his dick disappeared into her mouth. When she began to pull her head back up again, sucking him as she slid up to the tip, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the bed with a growl.
She repeated this. Taking him deep into her throat, she slid her soft lips all the way down on him, caressing him, then she sucked him as she ascended, her tongue dragging along his veins, coating him with saliva and fire, then flickering around his tip.
With every nestling of his dick deep in her throat, every suckle of her mouth, every lap of her warm, wet, soft tongue made contact with his hard flesh, something inside of him grew, stretched and expanded.
Throat, suckle, lick, expand, throat, suckle, lick, expand.
Jaxon feared that whatever it was, it was expanding too much and too fast, and he would soon burst apart from the inside out. Closing his eyes didn’t help, because he could so clearly hear every suck, every slurp, every gag, every gulp.
He lifted his head and looked down at Celise. Her red hair spilled all over, but he could see her lovely face over his pelvis, her pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Her large breasts were hanging over his thighs and pressing into him whenever she took him into her throat. When she looked up at him with those grey eyes and smiled with him still in her mouth, and then continued to suck him silly, the expansion within him dangerously doubled.
“Celise –” the raspy, strained sound of his voice surprised him.
She paused to reply. “Relax, and just let me. Let yourself go.” When she continued, she added her hand to the base of his dick and stroked him up and down along with the sucking motion of her mouth.
He was glad then for the restraints, because he so wanted to grab her head and grind his pelvis against her face. Just the thought of it increased the size of the expansion enough that he knew it was coming.
The detonation was coming.
Rough, ragged, heavy sounds filled his ears. It took him a moment to realize it was his own breath that was so loud, so hard. There was tension in his toes and fingers, and he curled all twenty of them as tight as he could, bracing himself for the impact. The clenching began in his testicles, then exploded up and out of his dick with a bang, rippling up his gut and splintering through his torso and out to his limbs. The cry that escaped his throat was deep, hoarse and sounded more like pain than the pleasured relief he felt. He convulsed as he spilled into Celise’s mouth, which didn’t release him until he cried, “Enough, stop.”
The impact of the blow lingered within and around him for minutes, but when the clouds finally cleared he felt a wave of peaceful calm blanket him.
Calm. Like he was himself again.
At some point Celise got up and returned to the bed with a blanket, and snuggled up against him, practically on top of him in the narrow bed.
“Feel better?”
“Hell yes.”
“Good. See, I told you it would work. Now, let’s go to sleep.”
“Um, aren’t you going to untie me?”
She grinned wickedly at him. “No. I rather like the way you look all tied down and naked, unable to resist anything I do to you.”
“Dr. Belderon!”
Celise laughed. “Besides, I have a feeling that those restraints wouldn’t really hold you if you didn’t want them to.” She pulled the blanket up over them both and nestled her head against his shoulder, her hands playing with the tuffs of hair on his chest that poked around the straps.
Damn, I love this woman, he sleepily thought to himself, smiling.
And that’s when he knew just how far gone he really was.
Chapter Eight
Dr. Victor Morhamer paced the lab with one hand pressed against his temple. His head pounded with conflict. In just twenty-five hours, Garrett Carrington—the founder and CEO of Cyclone Industries—was going to be looking for an update on the status of the Titan Formula Project. But the only human test subject was an uncooperative mess, his partner Dr. Sri Ashni was being disagreeable, and all he had to show for nearly a year of hard work was a lethargic monkey.
Victor wanted to tear his own hair out. Too bad he didn’t have much to grab onto.
He pulled at the skin on his lips as he contemplated what to do. Garrett wasn’t exactly the kind of boss that you could casually deliver disappointing news to. Sri may not be so concerned about how the impact of rubbing Garrett the wrong way could have on one’s career, but Victor wasn’t an old man nearing retirement. His career was still just beginning, and the acclaim, recognition and recommendation from one like Garret would go a long way to guaranteeing his success. Not to mention the bonus pay that came along with this experiment being completed successfully and on time.
It wasn’t like the formula was incomplete. It was, and it worked. Bebo the chimp was living proof. Jaxon himself was the volatile one, probably overreacting to his physical and physiological changes with a form of depression, mental instability or hostility. Such was the risk in working with simple-minded people as such. Victor would have been much better off testing the formula on someone of his own mental capacity. Or even on himself.
Yes, of course, he could test it on himself! Why hadn’t he entertained the thought before?
It was unorthodox, sure, but not unprecedented for a scientist to use his own body as a test subject. He was pretty confident that his formula worked—he’d checked it and rechecked it. Even with the rapid transformation and unexpected side-effects, Jaxon was alive and well and intellectually the same, for what that was worth. So not only would Victor obtain increased size, strength, speed, and enhanced senses and regenerative abilities, he’d still retain his superior intellect. Garrett would be pleased, Sri would get off his back, Celise would be impressed and enamored and Jaxon would no longer be able to bully him. Victor may even be able to grow hair on the top of his head again, too.
He couldn’t come up with any drawbacks if he’d tried.
He locked the door to the lab and paused to contemplate the method of insertion. He and Sri had sedated Jaxon before they injected him, so he would not be conscious for the pain that accompanied the formula’s initial transition into the body. But Victor couldn’t administer the drug to himself if he was sedated, and there was no wa
y Sri or Celise would agree to the course of action he’d decided upon. Victor was on his own, and therefore had to take the injection lucid. But it would all be so worth the pain.
Damn near giddy with anticipation, Victor fitted a rubber band around his arm, filled a syringe with the same version of the Titan Formula they last used on Jaxon, and injected himself in the arm. The next instant he was on his knees, gripping at the edge of the table, gritting his teeth as he tried to refrain from crying out in agony. The formula was coursing through his veins, changing his DNA, and it felt like a nuclear reaction was ripping through him.
Three long, torturous minutes went by before the pain dissipated enough for him to be able to stand up. He dragged himself over to a chair and plopped down in it with a huff. He doubled over with his arms hugging his waist, dry heaving into the air. The retching sounds coming from his throat were so loud, it startled him. Then he noticed the ticking of the clock. Had it always been that loud? The monkeys in the cage sounded and smelled like an entire zoo full of animals. Victor briefly considered how unnerving it all was, and he could see how a lesser man like Jaxon could lose a bit of sanity experiencing all of this so suddenly.
Then he felt his ligaments stretching, his muscles inflating, his body twisting and transforming, and he forgot all about the discomfort of his newly enhanced senses. Suddenly his shoes, shirt and slacks were becoming increasingly too small, and he quickly stripped out of his clothes before he burst through them. The burning in his eyes, though, was the most unnerving, and what seemed like minutes went by before his vision was clear again. He looked over at himself in the mirror in awe at his new physique and orange-ish reptilian eyes … and then up at his visibly returning hairline.
Other than the slight physical discomfort and the hypersensitivity to everything happening around him, Victor felt just great. Maybe even better than great.
The clomping sound of Doc Martin’s out in the hall alerted Victor to Sri’s arrival moments before the man even reached the room. Being that he was now standing there wearing nothing but boxers, Victor went to the closet and found a smock. He was draping it over himself when the older scientist opened the door to room. With his hands up in a peaceful gesture, he took small, careful steps towards his lab partner, making every attempt to appear docile.
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