applying persistent pressure against the skin covering the metal balls. X sucked in a breath. She licked again and again, like he was the best-tasting lollipop ever created. With each stroke of her tongue the metal balls circled, inciting ripples of pleasure throughout his entire body. X spread his thighs wider. Caprise adjusted herself closer, hands on his thighs, tongue on his dick.
“Could I make you lose control, Xavier?” she asked after one long lick.
“You can suck me, Caprise,” he told her, his voice raspy with need. “Now!”
There was that smile again. The knowing one that spread slowly across her face, making her eyes shine with yearning—her cat’s eyes.
She was beautiful as she looked up at him, hair falling in a wild mass of strands around her face, chest heaving as she licked her lips. She was hellfire all bottled up in one hot-as-hell package, a hungry little cat just feeling her way around. He wondered if his cat could coerce her to come out and play.
“Come on, Caprise. You know you want to.”
Her tongue stroked along her lips again and this time X pulled his hands away, extending his hand so one finger touched the tip of her tongue. She licked around the digit, keeping her eyes focused on his.
“Yeah, you want to, babygirl. You want to take all this inside and suck every last drop.”
She purred. Yes, purred like one hungry and soon-to-be-satisfied cat.
“You want to take control,” he told her as she sucked his finger midway into her mouth. “Take it!”
Caprise pulled back quickly, letting his finger slip past her lips. He was right, she did want it, had wanted the taste of his length in her mouth since last night when he’d thrust so deeply inside her. So why shouldn’t she?
Dipping her head, she pulled the tip between her lips and suckled. His gasp was so loud, the rumble of a cat’s awakening coming from deep in his chest. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to take control.
Caprise took his length completely, letting the tip rest at the back of her throat as another one of those pesky purrs escaped. He seemed to like that because his shaft throbbed in response. Up and down she worked his length, soaking him with the moisture from her tongue, sucking him hard and deep with the suction of her jaws. His hips lifted off the bed, his fingers burying deep in her hair, pulling until she almost wanted to scream from the prickles of pain. That pain spurred her on, made her take more of him, cupping his heavy balls between her fingers, massaging them until they grew tighter and tighter.
X pumped fast, guiding her head to match the speed. He cursed and he moaned and he wanted to come more than he wanted to take his next breath. Caprise could tell and felt an amazing sense of accomplishment wash over her. In this hotel room, in this moment, she had the biggest and most lethal Shadow Shifter in the palm of her hand, literally and figuratively.
His release came with an explosion that almost knocked her off her game. But Caprise quickly rebounded, accepting all he had with deep swallows and loud moans. When he suddenly jerked her upward by her waist, pushing her nightgown out of the way and positioning her over his still-hot and heavily aroused dick, she could have gasped. But she didn’t. Instead she let out a low growl of her own, felt her incisors lengthen and poke against her lower lip. She’d let her loose. Let the cat inside come out to play, something that had not happened in what seemed like forever.
“There you are,” he said with a knowing smirk. “There’s my babygirl.”
She stretched, lifting her arms, arching her back, letting the wet lips of her vagina rub along the tip of his length. It felt good, it felt long overdue as the cat inside stretched with her.
“Pretty, pretty, pretty,” X was saying as he pushed down the straps of her gown to expose her breasts.
He palmed them both, squeezing as if he fully expected milk to shoot through the nipples and into his mouth. Again with that pleasure–pain; his grasp was almost too tight—she was about to scream. But then there came pleasure soaring through her like a tidal wave, hitting smack in the center of her vagina where its reaction incited a creamy release.
When he took one turgid nipple into his mouth, held it between his teeth and moved his head from side to side, Caprise thought she would die from the pain, or the pleasure. She couldn’t distinguish anymore. His hands gripped her ass, separated her cheeks, and felt everything in between. She was so slick his fingers just slid from one entrance to another, around her clit, through her plump folds, then sank into her waiting center. She jerked and gyrated with him, only to receive a warning in a voice so deep and so steady she almost trembled.
“Not yet. Not until I say so,” he told her.
Ordinarily Caprise wasn’t good at taking orders, even those spoken in such a serious tone, but this one kept every muscle in her body still. Biting down on her lower lip was all she could do to keep from yelling out with the intense pleasure that seemed to be strangling her.
“Control doesn’t come easy,” he told her. “You want it, you’ve got to take it. So tell me, do you want it?”
She whimpered, hated the sound, then hissed through teeth she tried to keep closed.
“Yes,” she said on a ragged release of breath. “I want it!”
“Then take it,” he offered, lifting her hips and planting her center over his tip once more.
Caprise slammed down on his length, so hungry to get all of him inside. She undulated her hips, rested with the feel of him so full and deep inside her. Then she pulled up and slammed down until they were both breathless. His upward thrusts were quick and hard but she matched them, loved the magnificent feeling they incited. He grabbed her breasts again, growling with every stroke. After a few moments she couldn’t tell who was growling, purring, roaring, whatever. The air was thick with arousal, the scent cascading around them both until release finally came with the force of a hurricane, sweeping them both up in its windy grasp, dumping them like objects— satiated objects—in the center of the bed, where they could do nothing more but collapse.
His nightmare began the moment Caprise’s touch was replaced by Jeremiah’s—the filthy bastard’s. X roared the instant he recognized him. It was the scent at first, stale potato chips and liquor, so much liquor he was always amazed the man could stand up on his own, let alone do the vile things he’d done to him.
“You’re my boy,” he used to say to him.
X cringed from the memory.
“You’re
It sounded sick, the tone, the way he dragged out the one-syllable word
“No!” X roared back.
But the idiot kept coming. He kept walking toward him. X backed against the wall. He didn’t want to run, didn’t want to be a sissy as his father had called him. He wanted to stand strong like a man.
“You’re always gonna be mine,” he said, coming closer, taking off his shirt as he approached.
His boxers were dirty and twisted around his waist, his vile body part peeping with disgusting clarity through the slit.
“Stop playing now. You know what to do.”
X knew what he didn’t want to do. What he wasn’t going to let this fucker do to him ever again. Inside him something was shifting, like somebody was moving inside him. His arms trembled, his heart beating so fast he thought it would burst clear through his ribs. He kept breathing, taking in deep breaths, then letting them out quickly. Everything around him seemed like it was spinning—everything but the man who would soon become X’s demon.
When he was close enough he reached for X, touching his hand lightly to his shoulder.
“I sure do like you, boy,” he told X.
Abruptly the spinning stopped and the rippling inside X intensified. With hands more powerful than he could ever imagine X grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it as he removed it from his arm.
“Don’t touch me,” X told him through clenched teeth. “Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again!”
The man opened his mouth, was about to say something else, but X kept twisting his wrist until he heard the bones cracking beneath his strength.
“Let go, let go,” he pleaded, falling to his knees.
But X didn’t hear him. He just reached for the other wrist, breaking that one, too. “You don’t deserve to touch anyone,” he told him as he looked down at him and saw something totally different. It was still the dirty old man who’d lived next door to them, the one who’d asked X’s mother if X could come over and do odd tasks for cold cash. The one who’d taught X not to trust anyone … ever.
