Chapter 23 #2
My mind made quick scientific leaps. Made from werewolf and dragon DNA. I assumed dragons are reptilian. Therefore, Quin has a preputial sheath. And the spikes must be similar to a hemipenes. I swallowed. Most hemipenes come in pairs. "You don't have another one hiding in there, do you?"
He shook his head and licked his muzzle.
I wasn't sure whether I was relieved or disappointed.
A rumbled groan vibrated his body as I continued to explore. His muscles strained under his skin as he stayed still for me. He slid his hand down my stomach and into my curls. A finger pushed into me and I nearly came off the bed.
His finger retreated and the blunted claw dragged upward then circled my clit.
I was dimly aware that those same claws had sliced through flesh and bone like they were pudding.
At the moment, I didn't care. That single claw made me delirious.
No matter how I squirmed or how my hips sought more pressure, it continued its slow circle.
"Please," I pleaded, my body shaking with its need for release.
The claw exchanged places with the pad of his finger which pressed down, hard. I shattered like fine crystal, the pieces of me scattered through the room.
My eyes were closed and my chest heaved as he leaned to whisper in my ear, "Okay?"
A croaked, "Yes," was all I could manage. My left hand was still wrapped around his cock, which I only realized when he shifted his hips back and then forward.
Two thoughts wandered through my brain. What will those spikes feel like? And will that thing even fit inside me?
I was damn sure going to give it the old college try. For science.
"I want you." It came out in little gasps since I hadn't managed to catch my breath.
His legs slid between mine and his hands fell above my shoulders as he loomed over me. Instead of feeling fear, I felt protected. Safe. He stared down at me like he'd already decided I was something he would guard with his life.
"You're sure?"
His rumble kick-started my clit like a defibrillator. I nodded with more enthusiasm than was needed. "I'm sure." I paused. "Condom?"
"I don't get diseases and I won't get you pregnant."
I sagged, the last of my brain's ability to function washed away.
I felt the thick head of his penis as it probed my entrance, then the stretch and burn as he pushed slowly inside.
Inch by amazing inch, I molded to him like we were meant to fit together.
His spikes scraped along my walls, hitting the spot no other had managed to find and setting off fireworks behind my eyes.
Every time my breath stuttered or my fingers tightened in his fur, he slowed, checked in, allowed my body time to adjust without being asked.
He bottomed out and a lump pressed against my clit. My third orgasm before he even began to move made my eyes cross. I wanted to look, to see what it was, but that could come later.
"Still okay?"
"I need you to move."
His chuckle strangled when I squeezed his dick with my inner muscles.
I got the desired response. Slowly he withdrew and then slid back in.
Just a tiny bit at first, then more and more until he was pulling almost out before reversing to slide in all the way to the hilt.
His movements were so controlled I swore I could feel each individual spike as it entered and left.
I canted my hips to meet his. "More."
It wasn't the word I wanted. Faster. Harder. But he understood. His hips snapped forward and when that lump hit my clit again, I moaned. He ground it against me in a circle before increasing his rhythm, still too controlled.
"Let go. Please."
The change was immediate and wonderful. His fingers dug into the comforter and I heard it rip, the sound loud next to my ears.
His hips pistoned into me and the pleasure ramped almost to the point of pain.
My orgasm—the fourth, holy hell—ripped through me like a tornado, leaving me panting and my muscles wet noodles.
His thrusts stuttered into me a few more times before a snarl ripped from his throat as he came.
He eased himself to the bed next to me and gathered me in his arms. I rested my cheek on his chest and listened to the fast thrum of his heart as it slowed.
For once, I wasn't anticipating the moment I'd be asked to move along. The moment I'd feel like a burden. I almost believed I could stay.
His covered claw traced my tattoo.
"Why a moth?"
I sighed before answering. "Because no matter how dark it gets, they will always find the light."
Quin rubbed his jaw on my hair. "Sleep," he murmured. "I've got you."
And for the first time in my life—I believed it.
I SLAPPED MY HAND in the general direction of the nightstand and hoped by some miracle my finger would hit the snooze button on my phone alarm. It didn't. In the end, I rolled over and cracked one eyelid so I could give it a proper one-finger punch.
The last thing I wanted to do was get up and go to work. Again. That's all I'd done for the past three weeks. Work, strategize with the 'fangs and various members of Superhuman Security and Jackal Division, get fed by Nanna, and snuggle with Quin (not complaining).
"Five more minutes."
His voice was sleep-mumbled, and I gave in to the urge and burrowed back under the covers. His warm hand splayed across my naked belly and pulled me back against him. I groaned. "I have to get up." I made absolutely no move to do so, however.
After the first week, I started to search the office for anything I could find related to the wyrfangs, BioSynth, or the manufactured mate bond. I hadn't found anything, despite my attempts getting bolder. I'd even asked Summer pointed questions in the hope she knew something.
I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up the 'everything is normal' charade.
Reluctantly, I slid from beneath his arm and rolled out of bed.
The chill of the room made me hiss, and Quin immediately followed, dragging the comforter with him like an oversized security blanket.
He wrapped me in its still-warm confines and I contemplated crawling back into bed and forgetting about everything else. Maybe I could, just for a day.
I sighed and steeled myself. This was too important to wait. The 'fangs wanted answers. I wanted answers.
I dressed quickly, tugging on casual business clothes that were unremarkable and forgettable. The kind of outfit designed to disappear into the background. Quin watched me the entire time.
"Do you want me to walk you in?"
I smiled over my shoulder at him. "You ask that every day."
"And one day you'll stop crushing my dreams."
I squealed as he pressed his cold nose against the skin of my neck. I jerked and swatted at his muzzle. "So you're choosing to incite panic today?"
"I'm hurt, Havoc, that you think the mere sight of me would incite panic."
I sighed but couldn't quite keep the smile from my voice. "You're a seven-foot-tall bio-engineered weapon. I say it's a safe bet you'd incite panic."
He spun his hand through the air. "Details."
I laughed despite knowing I shouldn't encourage him. "I'll text when I get there."
"Great, I live for those updates. 'Still not dead. Send snacks.'"
I rolled my eyes. "That's not what I send."
"That's what you mean." His ears drooped. I knew he worried. He'd spared me the 'entering the lion's den jokes' he usually said as I left, but they hung between us, anyway.
"I'll be fine." I wasn't sure I would. I hadn't slept well in weeks. Even when I was next to him, wrapped in warmth and safety, my nights were crowded with a creeping sense that I was missing something obvious.
He didn't argue, but his ears flattened. I knew he hated that phrase.
I kissed the side of his muzzle as I slipped out the door. The drive to work was its usual constant mantra of relax your shoulders away from your ears, unglue your tongue from the roof of your mouth, it's just another day in paradise.
Out of habit, I took a deep inhale as I hit Novagen's front doors.
The building always felt menacing, but today it was more so.
I scanned the lobby to see if anything had changed, but it was still the boring corporate design as always.
Summer looked up, her perpetual smile firmly in place, her standard "Good morning" a bit too loud, as always.
Everything was exactly as it usually was, and on that day it was unnerving.
I subconsciously rubbed the pendant against my skin.
I knew it sent all my vitals to a computer screen that Quin admitted he stayed glued to every day.
Bacon had yet to work out how to add sound and video without triggering the detection system the building had in place.
I sat behind my desk and leafed through documents for a new trial starting at the end of the week.
Once enough time passed that I knew everyone had their coffee and would get to work, I pulled up the internal database.
On this tenth pass through the file system, I didn't look for anything specific.
Just let my eyes roam as a bored compliance officer. Looking for patterns.
My eyes slid down the list of names and dates, then stuttered.
I went down the list again, trying to pinpoint what felt off.
Locating the discrepancy. It was small. Tiny.
Something anyone else would have skipped.
A filename that didn't quite line up with the rest of the archive.
It followed the standard convention almost perfectly, but not quite.
The usual letter and numbers transposed.
It could be nothing. An error. A typo by a tired lab assistant.
My pulse ticked up.