Fox’s Night: A Foxy Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Foxes of the Midnight Sun Book 3)

by K. R. Alexander

  Still I ran, ran, ran around the lake until I was gasping, having only reached the far bank, and had to slow and drink.

  Black Ice then caught me at last, beating me in stamina, if not in speed. He licked my face and nuzzled along my body before we continued.

  We trotted on around the shore, weaving and wandering in the highly irregular shape of the lake which only very vaguely resembled a bowl. Or did we call it Bowl Lake because of the valley? I had never asked my grandam.

  Black Ice nudged and nudged, often trying to mount me. It was in play and I stood for him for a moment now and then, only to slip out from under him and trot on. I kept thinking of being with him in skin, not like this. This was mere games and teases. So easy to touch, mouth, share scents, roll on our backs and feel close in this form. But it wasn’t at all what I really wanted with him tonight. I kept thinking of that, of being in my skin with him, how he had felt against me, touching me through our clothes the night before.

  We were promised to each other. Even unwilling elders had agreed. There was nothing wrong with us being together. Only my own nerves and uncertainty. I’d never been with anyone like that, had to assume he had not either, though I hadn’t asked.

  I stopped for another drink, wading in for deeper, slightly moving, clear water.

  Now the night was smooth, stars and moon lighting a landscape and sky all silken and blending into one natural background that we shared and merged into with black and silver-tipped coats.

  Black Ice waded out with me. He slipped his chest onto my hips and clasped behind my ribs with his forepaws. Again, I thought of skin. Him touching me like this in skin: what he surely wanted also. He made me shiver—the weight of him on my back exciting. Those ripples of exhilaration…

  I took off at a sprint, shooting out from under Black Ice and rocketing down the shoreline once more.

  I ran flat out, a black shadow through a silver night, for a mile or two along the bank, making the turn and starting back toward the clans, now many miles away. Again, Black Ice chased and, again, he could not keep up. I wore even him out this time.

  After the long run, we both had to drink and spend some time walking, panting and hardly jostling each other while our lungs burned and we struggled to catch our breaths.

  Then Black Ice teased me, pawing at me and rolling on his back until I chewed his ears. We chased and ran again in slow, loping games while we made our ways along the western shore.

  I was scenting smoke in the distance when Black Ice stopped.

  He rolled in the brush, rubbed his scent against me, rolled again, then splashed out for another drink.

  He was stalling, avoiding going back into sight or sound of the clans.

  I, at last, was tired. The summer sun would be up soon and I craved my den. Or curling up with him? We could stay in fur and take a sheltered spot in the trees. Or … we could take a sheltered spot and change?

  I watched him as Black Ice sniffed noses with me and bounced away, flirting his brush. The white tip flashed as he pounced over reeds. The motion drew me on until I followed eagerly to the trees.

  Once more, he nosed me, then stepped back, studying me closely.

  For a moment we did not move, only watching each other.

  Dancing, kissing, talking, working together with our hands, touching with fingers and lips, skin contact that was very different than this playing and flirting in fur… He must feel it too: craving skin as I did, no matter how much joy the run might bring, covering the whole lake in a night only by swift and agile virtue of fur and heightened senses.

  There was a time and place for fur. This was not it anymore.

  I stepped back and sat, my brush drawn about my paws, waiting for him to make the first move.

  Black Ice still watched me. At last, he turned to scratch at mulch around the aspens, as if to make a scrape after all? A curling up spot for fur? He rolled, rubbing his scent on the patch, smoothing it for his body, then sat up, looked at me again, and changed into his skin.

  I thought of dancing, of his lips, his fingers in my hair.

  Black Ice caught his breath after the painful change. He settled on his hip in his nest, rubbed his eyes, and held his hand out to me.

  “Join me,” he whispered.

  I stepped to him, rubbed my cheek on his hand, leaned in while he scratched my throat. Then I took a step back and also changed.

  It was a blow in the darkness to find I could not see the details of his angular face so well, lost much of the forest around us, the lake shore, everything plunging to darkness. I also rubbed my eyes and looked out to find the silver reflection of light on the lake a comfort.

  Turning to him, though, I had to reach out to feel his face. “I can hardly see you.”

  “Me too… I’m sorry for it.” He stroked down my nose and lips and chin with his fingertips. “But not for the rest. To touch you this way…” He laughed softly. “You are dazzlingly fast, Summit. I’ve never seen a fox run like you. And a perfect dancer…” He leaned in, nibbling at my neck. “I continue to be unable to find fault. This is so unlike me.”

  “You need more time.” I kissed him, shivering as cool air struck my exposed skin. I wished I had my brush, or at least a shawl to draw around me.

  “Certainly. Not that it will matter for that. But extra time with you is what I crave more than anything. Are you cold?”

  “Not as much as you.” I felt the bumps on his skin as I stroked him, moving in closer.

  “We just need to dance.” He kissed my lips until I parted them for his tongue.

  “Dance with me,” I whispered.

  “Always.” He lifted both hands to my face.

  For the first time I could touch him fully in his skin. I felt along his body while he turned and shifted with me onto our sides in his chosen nest on the forest floor. The mulch readily took heat from our bodies. At the same time we warmed each other, making the night bearable even in skin.

  His body was lean yet muscled. I admired the toned lines of him this way. He wasn’t an awkward yearling, even if still thought of that way by the clans. He was grown and quick to come into his own.

  I considered asking if he had been with another vixen, yet thought better of it. I knew by his uncertainty, his gentleness. Of course he did not ask me, which also told me to assume the same.

  I stroked down his waist, changing smoothly to hip, and wrapped my hand gently around his erection that pressed me. I reached lower, squeezing but still light, unsure if it might hurt him. Black Ice panted and rocked against me.

  He slipped down to take my nipple in his lips, stroking with the tip of his tongue.

  The sensation scorched my blood, making me gasp, startled by the power of his touch, though we had touched so much before. This was different.

  He sent my body into a state of hyper awareness, crying out for him. He felt between my legs, equally uncertain, and the touch of one finger pressing up against me left me moaning, parting my legs. I ached to know the feel of him even more, for him to truly be my mate and share himself to form a kit.

  I rolled on my back against him, shivering, but not with cold, trying to pull him to me.

  Black Ice climbed on me, his breaths very short, on his knees between my legs.

  It was surprisingly difficult to figure out how to line up our bodies, how to move and fumble together in the dark on the hard ground. I lifted my knees against him and he pushed, trembling, so excited he was already wet, but he still couldn’t find his way. I raised my hips as well, had to reach and guide him until he pushed into me, his muscles tight and flexing.

  It was a rush of pure joy to feel him in that first instant, first pressure, his body joining with mine, wet and burning. An affirmation for how I felt for him, how much I wanted him as my mate, how blessed I was to be with him. Then he thrust forward, letting out a breath, whimpering as he found new sensations and scrambled for more. That brought the pain. A sharp, tearing blaze that made me cry out, tears filling my eyes wi
th the unexpected hurt of it. I hadn’t known it would hurt. I’d never thought something that seemed so perfect, Earth Mother’s gift to every pair to join together and create new life, could rip through my insides like fire.

  “Summit?” He was scared, still panting. “Am I hurting you?” But he thrust at the same time, trying to fill me.

  The pain slacked, the knife-like sharpness fading while the burning and a broader pain remained. I couldn’t answer, only gasping. I didn’t want to pull away from him, even if I could have. I only wanted to be with him—with the pain gone. Why had no one ever said? Why was there no warning? How could my body crave this only to be torn apart by it? It wasn’t right. This wasn’t a gift but a punishment. For what? Were we too closely related after all? Was this Earth Mother’s warning? Surely it wasn’t like this for other vixens?

  Black Ice thrust quickly and held himself fully in, shuddering. “Summit, you have me. I’m giving you my seed. I love you.” He moaned and held on, pushing again. Less pain, but still… He was wet inside me, the hot flow trickling out as he finally withdrew.

  “Sorry,” he panted. “Did it hurt you? I didn’t mean to.” He was kissing me, shivering along with me.

  I hugged him in return.

  “I … I didn’t know it would hurt,” I managed finally. “Something’s wrong with me…”

  “No there’s not. You’re perfect, Summit. It probably takes a couple times to feel comfortable. Do you think? It’s new. Your body…” Shaking his head. He kissed my brow.

  Could that be it? The first time hurt?

  “I don’t know.” I held him tighter. “I hope so.”

  We lay a little while together, but I was still in pain and this wasn’t how I’d imagined spending the rest of the night with him.

  I had to get up and bathe in the lake. There was blood too—a little. I could smell it but didn’t tell Black Ice. He was worried even more now, asking if I should talk to my dam.

  I just wanted sleep. It was easy to avoid more questions as we changed back to fur for the walk to our own beds in silence.

  Chapter 19

  Before: Day 6

  I was scared after that—and hated being scared of anything to do with Black Ice. He knew something had happened even though I wouldn’t talk about it directly, and he was just as upset, asking was I all right, and wanting me to talk to my female elders.

  I needed more time: clinging to what he’d said, that it was the newness and no more. We worked together and still touched and kissed that next day, but not so much. I danced, feeling better by that night, yet went to bed early.

  The next day, Black Ice was even more worried at my distance. I had to understand this. Was it a matter of getting used to? Was it a curse from our mixed blood? Was it always like this for all vixens and simply something no one talked about?

  We were on gathering again and I found Black Ice, dodged the yearlings, and led him away through the aspens, bringing our baskets.

  “I think you’re right,” I told him, breathless, no preamble, no kisses. “I need to feel you again and it will be better this time. Otherwise … maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I’ll have to…” I swallowed, “I don’t know…”

  Black Ice only stared, holding my hand, trying to figure out what I was talking about. “Oh.” He shook his head. “You should talk to your dam, Summit. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reached to touch my face, eyes anxious.

  I pulled away, then changed my mind and embraced him fiercely. I felt fine now, the pain gone. Bringing it on again, though…

  I kissed him, finding my way back to his lips. I stroked his face, down his chest, kissed and held on and opened his belt while he melted against me.

  The forest was a patchwork of light and shadow as afternoon sun blazed through the leaves, gently waving in a strong breeze that traveled down the mountains, built across the lake, and gusted into the forest. The rustle and sway of leaves and shadows was hypnotic. I tried to think of it instead of what we were about to do as I undressed and helped Black Ice off with his clothes. He remained reluctant, but only in words and his slowness. Not in his own body, as I could see when he undressed.

  Was I cursed? Or this was universal and no one told me?

  Angry at my dam and all those before her, I clung to Black Ice. Again, I reached to guide him into me. At the last moment, drawing him close, feeling his hot skin, I felt my own longing return in a flood. How could I want him this much if he could only hurt me? The passion for what we shared together had to be more than a quick pleasure for him, sharp pain for me, and done. It had to.

  Please, Earth Mother, I prayed as I pulled him close and Black Ice responded, all hesitancy forgotten. Please, let there be more than that to the physical part of a mate.

  For so many seasons I had counted on more, looked forward to the day I would have my own mate, known instinctively there was more. How could such longing be a lie?

  Black Ice moved gently, the tip of him, a soft push, and relaxed against me, moaning, keeping his weight off me. Then more, tight, breaking pressure, gritting teeth, and he thrust in, gasped, and held still.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Summit,” he panted.

  “You’re not…” Wait? He wasn’t? I relaxed my clenched teeth and let out a held breath. It was … almost true.

  “You’re all right?” With an obvious effort he blinked and looked into my eyes.

  I held his face, considering my own body. “I think so. Just … slow. Can you go slow?”

  He nodded, then rocked softly forward.

  “Ah…” I struggled to breathe. There was pain, stretching out, but it was a mere discomfort. Getting used to him? I prayed.

  “Summit?”

  “Yes, I’m all right.”

  He talked to me softly, saying how he loved me and wanted to be with me, that he was sure our bodies just had to get used to one another, fit together, and we would be fine.

  Now I believed him as he slid against me, wet and slick and hot.

  He shuddered, thrust in hard, and, this time, I felt when he released his seed.

  I was sore, breathless, by the time he withdrew—but better, so much better than before.

  We took a long time to get dressed and return to work. Now we stayed close again. Black Ice kissed me often and asked how I felt while I thought of gradual improvements, of fitting our bodies, and what that could mean.

  That night was a subdued one. The work had been grinding. I again went to bed early, hardly eating, thinking of Black Ice, still praying for us.

  The next night revolved around talk of the future, planning for winter, and the clans going their separate ways. What of us, our plans for union?

  Black Ice held my hand and looked to me to answer the elders.

  “As the time pleases you,” I said. “We standby for your blessing.”

  “It is time the elk herds pass through our valley,” Wind Blink said. “All must wait and watch and pray for our good hunting. The night we bring in our first elk, we shall join your union and you will choose your clan to continue on in your joint life paths from here.”

  So we had either a day or weeks to know. One could not always tell about elk.

  Chapter 20

  Before: Day 8

  The next evening, we danced. I thought of our certainty as Black Ice held me, of his touches while we moved, of how much I wanted everything to be perfect with him.

  Once more, the pure joy of being with him crashed upon me until I could not contain myself.

  I changed. Again, we raced around the lakeshore. Again, with morning light on the horizon, we settled back in our skin.

  I pushed him to lie on his back and straddled him, controlling the speed and motion to feel through the sensations of him joining me. For the first time it almost felt good. Moments, even, when it did feel good?

  I sat over him with my eyes shut, hand on his chest, gently reprimanding him for moving while Black Ice tried to wait for me.

  I r
olled my hips softly side to side, noting how he could stimulate me, how this could be a joining of love and pleasures and even bliss. Couldn’t it?

  I moved back and forth instead, easing up, then settling a bit more to take him deeper.

  Black Ice complained, trying to arch his back and meet me.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I told him.

  “See?” He smiled, closing his eyes. “Becoming mates is learning to fit together in many sorts of ways.”

  How easy to be sure of himself now. I also smiled.

  “Show me how I can touch you that you enjoy.” I climbed off of him, leaving his organ wet and straining above him.

  He tried to follow me. “Let me mate you, Summit.” Kissing my neck.

  I wrapped my hand around the rigid shaft. “Show me. Please. I want to see.”

  He tried again, pulling me against him, wanting to turn onto his knees. I twisted my grip, tight, maybe painful, I wasn’t sure. He groaned as he fell back.

  “Up and down,” he instructed me, showing me with his hand over mine. “You can squeeze the skin there, up, tighter than that … tighter…” Losing his breath and releasing my hand.

  By stroking and pressing, I was able to pleasure him until a thick, milky white liquid sprayed over his own chest and my hand in the fading moonlight. He cried out with it, saying my name, while I was staggered. This was the male’s seed? Like a female’s milk? There was nothing to it, yet it still thrilled me. I wished I could see the performance again.

  I ran my hand through it, sticky and hot on his skin, and tasted the salty, musky bite, then went on touching him until he begged me to stop. I had to wait, apparently, which left me nibbling his skin, tickling his feet, braiding bits of his hair with mine.

  Now? No … still wait.

  My mind swam with ideas for expanding on that good feeling. Not only the feeling he’d given me inside when I’d sat on top of him, but now my own imagination playing over him inside me, what it was all like, how it all came together. It hadn’t hurt this time. Still getting used to it, but now I wanted him again. Him on top—to explore if he could give me those feelings that I’d found hints of with my own movements.