The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter

ground against his hand. He knew how to make her shudder and yet he also held back enough to keep her from experiencing satisfaction.

“Open wider, love.” He wound the silver leash around his hand and hooked her legs over his arms. The collar tugged at her neck, sending a delicious jolt of arousal straight to her womb. He used the tip of his penis to tease and stroke her entrance as he pushed in.

In a shocking move, he grabbed hold of her hair and yanked. A warning to the cat, love. His fingers pressed into her buttocks as he plunged deeper, filling her so completely she moaned. With each thrust, he rubbed slick places that quivered and quaked to life. The combination of rapid thrusts and his finger on her clitoris sent deep waves of arousal through her. “Let her go, Mia.”

“Ah-h non, do not stop, Exeter.” She bucked up to meet his throbbing shaft as she crashed over the edge of pleasure.

“I am with you,” he gasped, grinding out the last of his climax even as the cat took a swipe at him, claws extended. She scratched his chest, and four red tracks emerged over his right pectoral muscle. Exeter fell back, groaning in ecstasy.

Horrified at her feline behavior Mia retreated to one side of the bed with a snarl. Exeter slowly settled back on his haunches. As the panther retreated, the silver chain tightened. Steady, Mia.

She drew her muzzle back with a hiss, revealing long white fangs. She was always somewhat fearful after a shift.

The cat smelled blood. Exeter, you’re bleeding. Mia thought she might cry—but this wildcat shed tears for no man.

He looked down at his chest—rivulets of crimson ran down his chest. A few drops dotted the tops of his nicely muscled thighs. She placed a tentative paw out and crept closer.

She says the sight of your handsome legs makes her feel like frolicking.

Exeter grinned. “Shall we do some frolicking together?” He pulled gently on her collar and after a bit of hesitation, she came to him. Crooking an index finger, he scratched under her jaw, then the back of her ears— finally she allowed him to pet her all over. A rumble emerged from deep inside her body.

While Exeter washed up, Mia pawed at the discarded condom. Something about the slimy rubbery thing reminded her of a half-dead worm. When the condom appeared to slither away, she pounced on it. This caused a snort of laughter from the doctor as he washed his chest and applied a tincture. It’s twilight—shall we go out on the rooftops? Perhaps drop down into an alley or two and see how we manage the collar and leash together?

She watched Exeter dress with a great deal of interest. He eschewed a tie, pulling on a woolen waistcoat and jacket. It was winter in Paris and though the days had been sunny and mild, evening brought on a chill.

He sat down beside her and pulled on his boots. The cat leaned in rather affectionately and rubbed against his upper arm. We shall stay on Ile de la Cite, tonight, have a quiet romp around the island.

She raised a paw, licked, and washed her face. Catch me if you can, Exeter.

Exeter cracked open an eye, expecting to see Mia lying beside him. Nothing. Nothing but darkness and the faint glimmer of emeralds. A snuffled breath repeatedly brushed his ear. Or was that panting? Something moved on the mattress.

He lifted his head. A lazy paw stretched across his torso, triggering a return to alertness. He recalled a few of the evening’s earlier events. Mia had loosed the cat at the paroxysm of pleasure, and she had taken a good swipe at him. Four dark red parallel marks grazed his right pectoral muscle and upper diaphragm.

He eased back down onto his pillow. So much for a quiet frolic over Parisian rooftops. Their evening constitutional had quickly turned into a lively dash through the city and a trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower. They had raced through the exposition gardens of the Champ de Mars, and made it to the top of the tower in four powerful leaps—assisted, of course, by a bit of potent energy.

Perched above the romantic city on the Seine, he and Mia had become enthralled by the flicker of gaslights and evening stars. Lowering himself to his haunches, he scratched behind her ears.

The purr is both soothing and restorative to the cat’s nerves. Mia had shared, mind to mind. Her control over the cat grew noticeably stronger with each shift.

Exeter had rubbed her back. If we are attacked or captured, I want you to shift, Mia. Promise me you will shift.

As you wish, Exeter.

The cat curled up beside him stirred. Languidly, she lay her head on her paws. Had she been sleeping beside him all this time? Luminous, pale green eyes blinked in the darkness. Her steady breathing gently permeated the air. Exeter tried a thought to see if she was awake. Since you have marked me, I believe it is only fair that I be given the privilege of naming you. You must be tiring of cat or puss.

A pink tongue unfurled, followed by a ferocious yawn and show of fangs. Warily Exeter inched away. Mia was shifting—much slower than he had ever witnessed. Sleek black fur faded to pale tawny flesh, fingers protruded out of paws. A nose as black as a coat button receded along with her snout and whiskers. Dark, coffee- colored eyes reemerged on the face of the beautiful young woman he cared so very much about.

“I like the name Mia—it suits us.” She smiled up at him, somewhat shyly. “We are, as you say Exeter, one and the same.”

“Mia it is.” He propped his head up using a pillow. “I suppose if we need to clarify we could specify two- or four-legged Mia.”

She snorted a laugh. “Or you might ask, was Mia wearing a fur coat at the time?”

Exeter examined her carefully. No fever. No cold sweats. Even her skin glowed with color. He retrieved his pocket watch, and lifted her wrist. “Eyes bright and shiny—pulse is . . .” He watched the seconds tick off. “Pulse is normal.” Exeter met her gaze. “I could not have hoped for better, Mia.”

She returned his smile. “I feel fine—a bit tired, is all.”

“We have time to eat and bathe before Cafe L’Enfer—or we could catch a few more winks and bathe. Which would you prefer?”

“Sleep.” Softly, she kissed each scratch on his chest. They rested for another hour in a kind of twilight slumber, She hooked a long leg over his thigh, while he ran his hand along the curve of her hip and across a rounded buttock cheek.

And the bath was . . . stimulating.

They took turns washing each other. Mia, the water sprite, with a slippery bar of soap in her hands, caused a good deal of tumescence under milky water. For his part, he kept his fingers soaped and on her clitoris until she quivered and moaned.

By nine, they were squeaky clean and thoroughly pleasured. They dressed in a rush and met the Nightshades in the dining room just past the designated hour. “Everyone accounted for?” he inquired.

“America and gargoyle are off having a visit with one of Edvar’s relations, the chimera, Le Stryge,” Valentine advised. “At Notre Dame Cathedral . . .”

He must have blinked.

“I believe he resides above the Northeast Facade—along with a few more of Edvar’s kind.” The female Nightshade fashioned a pretty eye-roll. “He was quite insistent.”

“The gargouille—they are waterspouts, are they not?” Mia asked.

“Turned to stone, centuries ago. Edvar was correct about that.” The gentle, mannered voice came from behind them.

Exeter pivoted. “Mr. Ping, you have returned to us.”

Ping appeared slightly more male than female. Exeter had witnessed the immortal jinni vary his gender on several occasions. It was . . . stunning, to say the least.

“Doctor Exeter. Mia. You’re just in time for my report.” Ping slanted silver eyes as he pushed a lever on Tim’s projection map. “Several tunnels have been lost and others gained.” The genie pointed out the best and worst of what they might face, if they decided to enter the catacombs from alternate, Outremer Paris. “I ran across a troll by the name of Gobb Filkins who knows the catacombs and moves quite comfortably back and forth