by Aubrey Ross
His expression didn’t change, nor did his tone. He held out his hand and said, “Now the panties and socks.” After shedding her last few garments, she picked up her bra and handed the entire bundle to Grayson. He set it aside and guided her into position at the foot of the bed, facing the center of the room. “Have you ever been bound before?”
Her heart fluttered and her nipples tingled. Only in my fantasies and only with you. The words caught in the back of her dry throat, so she simply shook her head.
“If I ask a question, you will answer. Do you understand?”
She licked her lips and managed a weak, “Yes.”
“The proper response is ‘yes, sir’.”
She started to object, then thought better of it. “Yes, sir.”
His warm hands caressed their way down her arm; then he took one of the cuffs and wrapped it around her wrist, securely buckling the straps. “How does that feel? You shouldn’t be able to pull your hand free, but it shouldn’t be uncomfortable.”
“It feels odd, but not uncomfortable.”
“Why does it feel odd?”
“I know I’ll be helpless as soon as you secure the chains, and I don’t like being helpless.”
He paused, his thumb gently stroking her palm. “Sweetheart, you’re helpless now. I wouldn’t need restraints if I chose to hurt you. You’re safe because I care about you, and I would never intentionally harm you. The rest accents the connection forming between us and allows us to heighten the pleasure.”
There was no conceit in his tone, no arrogance. He was reminding her of the fundamental truth that existed in all living creatures. The strong either protected or destroyed those weaker than themselves. And there was no denying Grayson was stronger than she was.
She could either trust him or remain suspicious, and he would either prove worthy of her trust or disappoint. Only time would tell how this scene would play out.
He bound her other wrist and then her ankles. His fingers stroked her skin, lightly massaging her muscles, gentling her. Then he paused on his knees and looked up into her eyes. “Move your legs apart. Make sure you can comfortably stand, but give me plenty of room to play.” His lips brushed against her belly as he smiled, and his hands moved from her hips to her ass, caressing her cheeks as he waited for her to obey.
Plenty of room to play? With his fingers or his mouth or toys? What did he intend for her? There was a lot of time between now and sunrise, and all he’d promised was that he wouldn’t fuck her.
“Do I need to explain what happens when my directives are ignored?”
“No, sir.” She moved her legs apart, then took a deep breath and widened her stance even more.
“Very nice.” His fingers trailed down the back of her thighs, lingering at the bend of her knees until she whimpered. All the while his mouth feathered nips and kisses across her abdomen.
Her body warmed, heated until her core melted and flowed, anticipating whatever he had in store. He secured her ankles to the bedposts without ever touching her sex. Her clit throbbed and her pussy contracted firmly when he pushed to his feet and turned his attention to her arms.
Pressing her lips together, she fought back a groan. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily she was succumbing to his seduction. Her nipples were tight and red, and he hadn’t even touched her breasts. When had her body joined his team in this battle for information?
Her arms were held out by the restraints, leaving her spread-eagled before him. His gaze moved over her slowly, thoroughly before he focused on her face. “Now, why did you hesitate to call me sir? Am I unworthy of respect?”
Shit! That was a loaded question. She hadn’t even realized he’d noticed her hesitation. But she should have. Grayson noticed everything. “May I answer honestly without fear of punishment?”
He chuckled, his gaze dipping to her breasts for a moment before returning to her eyes. “I could teach you not to fear punishment, but that’s a lesson for another night. I always want you to be honest with me. Still, I understand your question. Be as candid as you like. There will be no penalty regardless of my reaction to your answer.”
She nodded, moving restlessly as she tested the slack in the chains. “Sir is a title offered to those of superior rank or those who have earned respect. You’re my friend. I think of you as an equal, therefore, in my culture, it would be more natural for us to refer to each other by name.”
He said nothing for a long time. Emotions crept over his features, but they were so subtle and so fleeting she was unable to decipher them.
“In my culture more is expected of males. We are bred to be dominant and aggressive. We are required to protect our mates, our young, and those unable to protect themselves. Therefore, our females and other subordinates offer us respect.”
“I’m not your female. I’m your friend.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, so she quickly softened the statement with a smile.
To her astonishment he returned her smile, his eyes sparkling like pale blue crystal. “You’re right. Until I’ve earned your respect, I won’t require you to call me sir.”
“Should I call you Grayson?”
“For now.” He placed his hands on her hips and moved in close. “After tonight we’ll be a whole lot more than friends.”
Chapter Three
Izak bit into Amara’s shoulder, shuddering with savage pleasure. She writhed beneath him, each fluid arch a silent demand. He must demonstrate his superior strength before she would lower her head and raise her hips. No female would accept a mate who couldn’t overpower her. He must be strong and fierce, able to protect her and her offspring.
She growled and bucked, not yet ready to surrender. Using his powerful back legs, he lunged, forcing her down, pinning her against the leaf-strewn ground. He moved quickly, mounting her, thrusting deep before she could dislodge him.
Breeding season was upon her, the evocative musk unmistakable. No other male had claimed her. His sensitive nose told him that as well. So why was she resisting? And why did this conflict arouse him far beyond the need to establish dominance? He wanted to savage her, shred her flesh with his claws, and lap her blood as he thrust into her flailing body.
The desire was twisted, depraved, unnatural. He understood all this on some distant level, but that didn’t stop his mind from imagining the act, the brutality. He pumped faster and harder, restraining the darker impulses through sheer force of will.
She gradually stilled and lowered her head. Female morphs tolerated sex in animal form. They were driven by instinct to allow the act, but they only experienced orgasms within their human bodies.
Once she submitted, Izak lost interest, spilling his seed in a sudden gush. He held her still, hips tilted, for as long as she would allow, ensuring his semen saturated the opening to her womb.
Her muscles flexed, and she shot forward with an unexpected burst of strength. Amara smoothly shifted, coming to her feet a short distance away. “And you wonder why no female will come near you in human form.” She panted, bracing her hands on her knees. Smooth golden skin gleamed in the moonlight. She was sleek and supple, though a bit scrawny, which was true of her cat form too. Brown strands threaded through her long blonde hair, identifying her as a tigress even in human form.
He transformed as well, rocking back onto his haunches. “If my seed manages to take root, you’ll be happy enough to have me around. We both know no other male will have you.”
Her golden gaze frosted over, any hint of lust gone in an instant. “You are such a bastard to bring that up now. There’s more to securing a mate than ambushing a female.” She took a step closer and lowered her voice. “I’d have thought the leopards would have taught you that tonight.”
Shock bombarded his mind with unwanted emotions and random thoughts. He’d been too busy fighting for his life to take stock of the observers. If Amara had witnessed that debacle, why had she been alone in the forest? She was too smart to intentionally put
herself in harm’s way. Unless this is what she’d wanted all along.
Her last three pregnancies had ended in stillbirths, so last winter her mate had set her aside. It was his right. Any of the other tigers would have done the same. Healthy offspring were not a choice for morphs, they were a matter of survival.
Izak took a moment to appreciate the irony. Innocent little Amara hadn’t just happened upon him in the forest. She’d planned the meeting, knowing he’d be wild with bloodlust, looking for a release for his aggression.
He studied her with new interest. There wasn’t much to recommend her. She was of average height and build. Her features were ordinary in human and tiger form. At least she was a tigress. Many cats took lovers among the other breeds, but hybrid children were almost always sterile, therefore useless. Nearly as useless as a barren female.
To think he’d felt sorry for taking out his frustration on Amara. He hadn’t taken advantage of a vulnerable female. He’d been skillfully ambushed.
“The leopards overreacted to something they didn’t understand,” he muttered, unwilling to explain the details to Amara or anyone.
She scoffed, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Let me guess. Sheila wanted you to fuck her, to show her all the forbidden pleasures only possible in human form. She teased you, wrapped her scent around you, until you couldn’t control yourself any longer.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about and it’s none of your business anyway. What happened is between me and Sheila.”
“There’s two problems with that attitude.” She held up her index finger. “First, you hurt Sheila badly enough that transformation didn’t heal her. Now the humans are involved.”
This was unexpected, but not hopeless. “She won’t say a word and neither will the leopards. This is between me and them.”
“That brings me to the second problem. Grayson marked you. Transformation didn’t heal the bite on your neck. If Major Young gets one look at you, the leopards won’t have to say a word. She’ll know exactly who attacked Sheila, and then none of us will be able to protect you.”
Izak touched his fingertips to the side of his neck and they came away smeared with blood. “Damn him. I will not hide from those wretched humans!”
Amara shrugged, a cruel sort of amusement creeping into her gaze. “Then turn yourself in and beg for mercy. They’ve always been so reasonable with our kind in the past.”
* * *
Pausing to savor the reality of having Sasha chained at the foot of his bed, Grayson absorbed the fire and tenderness cascading through his body. For so long he’d imagined her in restraints trembling with need and anticipation. He’d always thought it was an unattainable dream. No hard-ass soldier would surrender control to anyone.
He’d accepted that he would have to suppress his dominant nature if he wanted her in his bed. He’d even prepared himself mentally for the compromise. Then he’d glimpsed her secret fantasies.
He knew she was uncertain. Not afraid of him per se, but unsure if their relationship would be worth the disruption it would bring to the rest of her life.
For that reason, he moved slowly, allowing her time to accept each new phase, each new intimacy. But it wasn’t easy. He was ravenous for the feel of her soft body writhing against his, and the scent of her arousal as she gave herself over to pleasure.
And her taste! She would not leave until he’d imprinted her taste on his senses. He’d explore her soft curves and silken hollows and drink from her creamy slit while she shuddered in release.
“I’ve kept my side of the bargain.” Her gaze hesitantly lifted to his. “Who was the tiger you challenged, and why did he attack the leopard female?”
He pressed his hands against her neck, thumbs supporting her chin. “I suggest we start with the fundamentals of my people and work toward the specifics of that incident. Our agreement is until sunrise, so we have plenty of time.”
She tensed, her lashes suddenly shadowing her eyes. “Despite the fact that I mistook a leopard for a jaguar, I’m not as ignorant as you’re presuming. I was fully briefed before I came here, and this is my second assignment at a morph colony.”
His hands slid to her shoulders and he swayed toward her, stopping just short of pressing his chest against her breasts. “So enlighten me. When and how did the morph colonies come into existence?”
She hissed out a breath so deep her nipples brushed his chest. “You’re going to insist that whatever I believe is wrong, so why don’t you enlighten me?”
Her skin fascinated him. Not a hint of hair marred the ivory perfection. In humanoid form female morphs possessed transparent fuzz that made their skin feel like velvet. Sasha’s was truly smooth. Even her pussy was devoid of hair. He couldn’t wait to feel those silky nether lips with his fingers and his tongue.
The longer he kept her talking, the longer he would have to wait for the pleasures he was imagining. Besides, she was right, their agreement had been for him to supply the information.
Skimming his fingers along the outer swell of her breasts, he settled his hands on her waist. “As you said, there have been stories of shapeshifters for as long as there have been humans, but the origin of my species is far more recent and far more specific.”
Her dark eyes narrowed and her tongue quickly wet her lower lip. “What are you talking about?”
Would she believe what he was about to tell her? She’d been indoctrinated with lies and half truths. Like that toxic cum nonsense. Why would she believe his word over what she’d been told, what she’d believed for years?
Even if he failed, he had to try.
“Ninety-seven years ago an ambitious team of scientists decided to incorporate specific characteristics of various animals into the DNA of humans.” She didn’t laugh or roll her eyes, so he went on. “The first generation of hybrids was so successful the scientists disregarded the program parameters and secretly created a series of species unlike anything that had ever existed before -- at least outside the realm of fantasy.”
It took her a moment to make the connection; then her eyes narrowed and her body drew back from the possibility. “They created… morphs?” Her disbelief was understandable. She was one of them. Part of the government-funded conglomerate responsible for… He had to stay on task, stay focused on the issues at hand.
“My grandparents’ generation was the first.”
“But… are you saying every morph in all of the colonies were born in captivity? That they’re the result of these experiments?” She shook her head, braid whipping about her shoulders. “That’s not possible. I’ve been on raids. I’ve --”
“You’ve located renegades who dared to escape from the colonies.” He stepped back from her helpless body, fists clenched at his sides. His anger had no place in the activities he had planned for tonight. He would use his strength to control her, but never would he touch her in anger.
She didn’t know the truth. He’d known her long enough to understand that she believed their web of lies and had acted accordingly.
“That’s not what we were told,” she said. “Morphs refused to register, to submit to DNA testing and --”
“The morphs you captured had assimilated into society. They dared to live free, away from the ‘protective reserves’ the governments so kindly provided for my kind. So, teams like yours hunt them down and drag them back to the prisons where ‘we belong.’ My parents lived free for eleven years. They turned themselves in when complications arose during one of my mother’s pregnancies. My father sacrificed his freedom and my mother still died.”
Her breasts jostled with each ragged breath, distracting him from his anger. She was not responsible for the wrongs done to him or his people. She had never been cruel, never treated anyone unfairly -- within the structure forced upon her.
Her only sin was ignorance, and they were changing that right now.
“Were you the only cub to survive? Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Let’s
keep things general for now. I only used my parents as an example of a much larger problem.”
“I’m still incredibly sorry for your loss.” Sincerity rang in each word, and her eyes were tear-bright and filled with sorrow.
It wasn’t a new wound. Grayson had been dealing with the events his entire life.
“There’s one thing that doesn’t make sense to me,” Sasha said.
“Only one?” The corners of his mouth quirked. Sasha never had just one question.
“Why create so many if all they planned to do was lock you away on primitive reserves?”
“They didn’t intend to create so many, but evolution has a strange sense of humor.” He clasped his hands behind his back, not wanting her to misinterpret his tension. He wasn’t angry with her. He was frustrated by all that had gone before and all that was left unresolved. “Our females give birth in animal form, which often means multiple births. Also morphs mature faster than humans, so we reproduce faster. Twenty-five years into the project every research facility they’d built was bursting at the seams. They were faced with a moral dilemma. Genocide or deception on a global scale. They could destroy all evidence of their overambitious project or convince the world morphs were produced by a naturally occurring genetic mutation.”
“That’s when they came up with the colony idea?”
He nodded, patiently searching her gaze. Did she believe any of this? “The political controversy surrounding the DNA Registration Act gave them the perfect opportunity to avoid destroying us. They claimed DNA registration inadvertently exposed the existence of shapeshifters hiding among human populations all over the world.
“They offered us amnesty for our nonexistent crimes if we would turn ourselves in and submit to genetic testing. Of course we refused, so they had no choice but to round us up and incarcerate us for the ‘safety of the general population.’ Riots ensued and the rest is history. The morph colonies were fortified, and all technology within the boundaries was prohibited. Now the colonies are basically maximum security quarantine areas inside which we roam free.”
