Shifters' Captive:Magical Menages 1(10)

His eyes skimmed over her as if she was still naked, and her nipples  tightened. The ropes fell away from his body, and he rose from the  chair, his cock bobbing before him.

Sherrie turned to the bed and searched for something to cover his groin.  She flung the sleeping bag at him. "Don't you carry clothes with you  when you change?"

"No." The men answered in unison then exchanged a cold-eyed stare.

"Must make for some awkward moments when you turn back into human form."  Grant let the sleeping bag drop from his hand and stalked across the  floor with catlike grace to stop in front of Sherrie. John was right  behind him, hackles bristling and eyes narrowed. He looked ready to  attack if the other man so much as touched her.

"So you've never had a psychic experience before." Grant studied her and  his head moved slightly as if he was inhaling her fragrance. "Where are  you from? Who are your people?" She resented the staccato questioning  and answered succinctly. "My mom and I never lived in one place long. I  don't know who my dad was."

He regarded her silently and nodded. "Well, you're no shifter, but  you're not purely human, either." He jerked his head at John. "You had  sex with him? What was that like? Did you feel anything strange?"

"That's enough!" John inserted his body between them, standing almost chest to chest with the other man.

Perron snorted. "I'm not asking from curiosity, Balto. She might have  latent tendencies only now coming to full maturity. I wasn't always able  to dream travel or experience psychic visions myself. It developed  within the past couple of years with no particular trigger, as far as I  could tell. Or it could be that Sherrie's psychic abilities are brought  out by contact with our kind."

"Is something like that possible?" Sherrie thought of how her senses had  expanded when she held Liberty's hand and how being around John had  made her edgy. After sex her senses were heightened as if she'd been  wrapped in a thick quilt before and was now uncovered and wide awake.

"Anything's possible," Perron answered. "Psychic dreaming, precognition,  telekinesis and other mental abilities. Energies can be shifted or  mutated in many ways. Sex is one of them."

"What am I supposed to do with this power? How does it work?"

"Maybe you can find this entity with your mind, without holding Liberty's hand, and learn his strengths and weaknesses."

John moved closer to Sherrie, sliding a hand around her waist. "I don't  want to put her in danger by having her let this thing inside her head.  Let's start toward the caves and see if we can size him up physically  first."

Grant shrugged. "We can head out now as far as I'm concerned."

"Sherrie will need clothes and hiking gear. I'll get supplies from my  shop and be back in a couple of hours. Meanwhile, she can get some  sleep."

Perron gave an impatient sigh. "I thought wolves were like Boy Scouts,  always prepared, but it looks like you kidnapped her without much of a  plan. Now you have to run an errand and leave me to guard her."

"She's not going to be with you."

"Were you planning on leaving her here all alone and unprotected?"  Grant's eyes widened in an astonished cat's stare. Sherrie couldn't help  smiling.

"Safer than leaving her with you." John scooped his discarded shirt from the floor and slipped his arms into it.         

     



 

"I promise not to disturb the lady's sleep." He pressed his palm over  his heart, but the vow was diminished by the fact that his cock was  pointing at Sherrie. "She can keep the door locked and bolted."

"Go on. I'll be okay." Both flattered and mildly annoyed by his  protectiveness, Sherrie squeezed John's arm. She leaned in to plant a  kiss on his cheek, but he turned his head and laid claim to her mouth  with his. The possessive kiss was for Grant's benefit, but Sherrie  didn't care. It was hot and deep and pulled on that thread within her  that led straight to her clenching pussy. She gripped the sleeves of  John's unbuttoned shirt and longed to slide her hands up his stomach and  chest to feel his warm skin and the solid muscle beneath. She felt  Perron's gaze burning into them, watching and craving, and that made the  kiss all the hotter.

When she finally pulled away from John and glanced at the panther, his eyes were molten gold.

John whispered in her ear, "Keep the door locked." He nudged Perron in the back, toward the cabin door.

Sherrie bolted the door then looked out the window, watching the  headlights of the Blazer swing away and the taillights disappear down  the track. She couldn't see Grant in the dark, but felt him out there.  Was he still man or had he turned into his animal form to patrol the  night?

Leaving the window, she went to the kitchen for a bottle of water, which she emptied in a few gulps.

She picked up the sleeping bag from the floor and draped it around her  shoulders before sitting on the musty futon. There was no way she could  sleep with her brain jumping like she was on speed. One twist after  another had warped her life into an unrecognizable shape and she  couldn't stop reliving every moment of the past day. She also couldn't  stop picturing a panther prowling outside the door of the cabin.

She wrapped her arms around her body and lay back with her head on the  flat pillow, gazing at the bolted door. I've had sex with a wolfman and  now I'm lusting after a man who turns into a mountain lion.

This has been the weirdest day of my life. Her muscles twitched, and her skin tingled. She'd never be able to fall asleep …

It didn't surprise her when Grant Perron was suddenly standing beside the futon, gazing down at her.

Locked door or not, she'd known he would come. His appearance was inevitable. It was her destiny.

He didn't say a word, merely smiled at her, a glorious Apollo of a man  with his dark blond hair and white teeth. He sat beside her on the bed  and rested his hand on her belly. Her flesh felt branded by the heat.  She expected to look down and see her skin smoking.

"Feel me?" His mouth didn't form the words. They were inside her head as he was.

"Is this a dream?" But she knew it was no mere dream. On some plane  beyond the physical, he was with her. Yet every sensation was concrete,  and there was none of the flighty change of scenery or storyline that  usually accompanied her dreams.

"It's real enough. Don't think too hard. Go with it. You can do whatever you want here. There are no limits."

Sherrie glanced down at her body and saw it was true. Because she wanted  to have his hot hand caress her bare skin, she was naked. No limits.  The very words evoked erotic fantasies. If there were no limits, what  would she want to do? The possibilities made her feel indecisive, and so  she suggested, "I want you to take control."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She felt she'd made a deal with the devil as a slow smile spread across  his face, but he reassured her by his velvet-pawed caresses on her  stomach.

"Don't look so worried. I won't hurt you … more than what you want." His  nails scratched her then, light and tickling. It didn't hurt, but sent  lustful shivers through her. Her belly twitched violently and her  nipples grew taut as he scratched a path up to her breasts. He batted  them lightly as a cat would play with a toy, and they jiggled, sending  more delicious quivers coursing through her body.

With a deep chuckle, Grant leaned and drew one of her nipples between  his lips. He bathed it with his warm, wet tongue, and Sherrie's thighs  tensed at the jolt of electricity that speared from his tugging mouth  down to her crotch. He lightly plucked at her other nipple with his  fingers and then his teasing grew abruptly harsh. His teeth scored her  areola, and his fingernails dug into the base of her nipple.

Sherrie yelped and twisted, loving the pain and wanting more. Perron  alternated rough treatment with soft suckling and gentle caresses,  bringing her closer and closer to climax without touching any part of  her except her breasts.         

     



 

Her eyes closed, and she shivered and thrust her hips against the air.

"Don't come yet." His rough command and the cessation of his touch brought her back from the brink of orgasm.

Sherrie opened her eyes and focused blearily on his handsome face.

"Not yet. We have a long way to go." He cupped a breast in each hand,  simply holding them and waiting for her to relax and come down from the  edge of climax.

At last he took her mouth in a slow kiss as luxuriant as a bed with  satin sheets and pillows. With John there'd been a frenzied, ravenous  speed to their fucking, mouths clashing, bodies smashing together. Both  of them had been so eager and hungry they'd been incapable of taking  their time. But Grant seemed ready to toy with her for hours.

He traced the shape of her lips with his tongue before slipping it  delicately between them. His mouth tasted like aged whiskey, heady and  powerful, not a physical taste but a sensation. The lines between  Sherrie's senses blurred in this dream space; sight became smell, taste  and touch were one. Her heart's pounding and Grant's breathing had  texture and shape, moss soft and gauze delicate.