23. You Like Watching Me
TWENTY-THREE
YOU LIKE WATCHING ME
Seven
B ent over in my cell in R Block. Ready to receive my servicing.
But instead of the prod of a male member, there is a warm, wet slide. Is that a … yes, it’s a tongue, flicking, teasing at parts I never let myself touch anymore.
A groan. His groan.
“You taste like nectar, Blossom,” he murmurs in the deep, rough voice of his shifted-self. And then he sets in on me again, big, warm hands parting me, his mouth delving deeper. Sucking, lapping. Thrusting, but not in a way that feels like a violation. Not even slightly.
Pressure … pleasure builds, and I squirm for more of what he’s giving me. Fingers tangling in my bedding, clawing as I climb and climb …
Oh … I’m going to—
I woke with a start, throbbing violently between my legs, breaths sawing. A phantom climax.
What had he been doing to me in that dream?
My surroundings swam into focus, and along with them, everything that had happened to us.
I was on the mattress. The only mattress. The one I had left Jack unconscious on.
But I hadn’t fallen asleep there … had I? I’d crawled away, holed myself up in a corner of the room.
But his scent.
It was everywhere.
It was all over the mattress. All over my clothing.
All over me.
But he wasn’t here. I was alone.
I scrambled to my feet. This place felt too small, surrounded by his scent. I needed air. Needed something else in my nostrils but damp earth and salty air. The scents of that clearing, the only other time I’d been outside.
But my heart hammered wildly for another reason entirely.
He’s not here.
He’s gone.
Find him , the whisper commanded. Blood calls.
A groan of pipes on the other side of the kitchen wall. And then a deep, frustrated male groan.
His groan.
My feet were moving before my brain could catch up. Scrambling across the bare floor, staggering out the door, along the odd covered area at the front of the dwelling. Into the swaying vegetation around the corner of the building.
I froze.
Wet hair that looked deep gold as water dripped from it. His drenched jumpsuit clung obscenely to every ridge of muscle cut into his back, his arms … his buttocks.
I couldn’t breathe.
He began to peel that fabric away from his shoulders, exposing flawless skin. No sign of scars from our ordeal. Just beautiful, smooth expanses of toned body, as the jumpsuit came down, past his torso.
And then further, over his hips, uncovering a taut backside, twin dimples like arrows pointing to the sculpted beauty of it. Past thighs that were so defined I could see the muscles working under the skin as he bent to shove the fabric lower until he could step out of it entirely.
And then, as his head fell against the side of the building, his body turned, and …
Oh …
OH …
Yesssssss , hissed the whisper.
Aside from the vague memory I had of the reproductive video we’d been shown all that time ago, back in G Block, I’d only seen a male member once. The first time they made me kneel to be serviced.
Not fully understanding what was going to happen to me, I’d turned and seen the male—I couldn’t even remember who it had been now. It had blurred in with all the males they’d forced upon me—grip himself … fondle himself.
I’d never looked at one of them again. Until now.
With a strangled sigh, Jack wrapped his big, long-fingered hand around himself and pumped.
It looked nothing like what I remembered. That had been mechanical … a means to an end.
This was … visceral. The bunch of his neck muscles as he stroked. The rapid movements of his back as he panted in time to the thrusts of his member into his palm.
This was a male losing control.
And it sent every single chemical in my body zinging, lighting me up in a way I’d never experienced before.
Fuck, he’s beautiful , the whisper mused, practically panting inside my brain.
And I couldn’t even argue. I could only stare as his penis swelled, pulsed under the movement of his hand.
He was close. I could feel it.
I sucked in a sudden breath … anticipating.
His head jerked towards me, but I couldn’t stop staring at his hand, still moving on him. He was beautiful there, too. Ridged veins, a prominent tip, thick and long and …
Delicious , the whisper added. Which seemed like a weird choice of word. But somehow also fitting.
A flash of my dream and his tongue on me had my knees trembling.
Still, I stared, and still, he didn’t stop. He kept stroking. His thumb swiped over the head, and he grunted.
I glanced up at his face. His eyes were fixed on me, and they were the bright gold of his Shifter-self.
Somehow, that made my own reluctant arousal spike with an intensity that had me clenching my thighs, seeking some reprieve from the needy ache between my legs.
His lips curved into that wicked grin.
“Watch me, Blossom,” he growled. The sound of his special name for me melted my insides. “Watch me lose control while I think about eating that sweet little cunt of yours.”
I should have run right then.
I was rooted to the spot. Saliva flooded my mouth, and my eyes fell back to the movement of his hand on himself, the jerk of his hips as he thrust into his fist.
His eyes burned into me as he inhaled deeply.
“Fuck, you’re wet, aren’t you. I can smell it. Flowery and fucking delicious. You like watching me fuck myself, don’t you?”
I did. Oh, I really did.
His movements stuttered erratically. My teeth sharpened.
His blood in your mouth, and you would both climax immediately.
I didn’t move. Afraid that if I did, it would be to pounce on him. To sink my teeth into that bulging muscle on his shoulder.
Or into the bulging vein on the side of his penis …
“Fuck, Blossom, eyes on me while I come for you,” he snarled, and then with a roar, he threw his head back, and rope after rope of spend splattered the wall, his hand pumping every last drop of him as his legs shook with the force of it.
And the smell of it … mouthwatering.
I pulsed violently between my legs. Another phantom orgasm.
With a groan, he let the wall take his weight, shaking his head under the spray of the water. His semen trickled down the timber, rinsing away with the water.
With every scrap of resolve I could muster, I turned and fled.
Around the corner of the building, away from the smell of his climax, away from his golden eyes, I tore my boots and jumpsuit off, not even caring that I left them in a messy heap.
“Shit! Seven … wait!”
I almost paused because that wasn’t the deep rumble of his Shifter voice. It was pure Jack.
But I forced myself to sprint across the clearing, my body changing faster than it ever had before.
We need him … we want him …
NO! I snarled at the whisper, forcing my will upon us both as our consciousnesses merged into our shifted form.
The trees approached with alarming speed, but we didn’t slow. We hurtled into them. Through them. Between and around them.
We kept running.
He was following. And he wasn’t human any longer.
We chanced a glance behind. Our paws slowed in shock.
Another tiger barreled towards us.