Page 39 of Born Wild
Pulls back.
Sinks down.
Then he adds the perfect, perfect amount of suction.
He does it until I’m mindless, until I’m shuffling from foot to foot, struggling to stay upright. He does it until the smallest, tiniest, most faraway thought forms. No, not a thought exactly, a distant base longing. A desire I haven’t named yet. A desire that isn’t fully formed yet.
He feels it on my skin before it becomes conscious and acts on it faster than sound travels through time. He reaches under my balls, curving his fingers and thrusting two of them into the slick heat of my opening. He finds the place in me that makes lightning crack and attacks it.
My mouth is wide open, my hands clawing at nothing. My orgasm is so close that I’ve been sucked into a vacuum. A before place, where everything’s peaceful and quiet.
My legs shake, and the breath in my lungs begins to tremble. What’s happening to me is more than the usual lull before orgasm. My shaking and trembling far exceeds what’s normal for me. I look around the room blindly to try to work out what’s happening.
Then I look down.
The lord has his lips stretched tightly around me. His eyes are closed. He looks peaceful, almost like he’s praying. The way he moves is subtle, but the sound he’s making is anything but.
The alpha kneeling at my feet with my dick in his mouth is growling.
Lightning strikes on the horizon, and the air around me catches on fire.
The long, low rumble goes through me, winding around me, tightening and causing every cell in my body to implode at once. My eyes slam shut and a loud, piercing wail fills the room.
Shards of purple and gold radiate out from my chest.
Then everything goes hazy and turns black.
When I become aware of my body again, my pants have been neatly pulled up, and I’m sitting, slightly slumped, on a kitchen chair. The alpha who unmanned me is smiling down at me serenely and holding out a glass of water.
I take it, shakily, and bring it to my lips.
“Was that okay?” he asks.
I make a very strange sound, a collection of consonants that couldn’t make up a word, no matter how one arranged them. To make up for that, I smile broadly and offer my best attempt at a thumbs-up.
It does the trick.
“Good,” says the lord, pulling out a chair of his own and sitting. “Glad to hear it. It’s different for me, now that I’m like”—he gestures vaguely in the region of his groin—“this. I can’t feel things like I used to, so I’ll check in with you to make sure you’re happy when we do something new.”
Oh great.
More excellent communication. Just what I need.
19
Alfie
Ihidebehindthegrandfather clock in the hall as I wait for him tonight, holding my breath. He doesn’t see or hear me until he’s passed me and I’m behind him. He leaps, ungainly, all jerky arms and legs, when he hears my growl.
The little mouse tries not to squeak as he runs, but he can’t keep the sound in. It’s a long, thin, high-pitched little thing that trails out behind him as he moves.
The urge to laugh bubbles through me so strongly that I’m barely able to sustain my growl.
I think he’s going to head for the kitchen again like he did last night, but at the last moment, he veers left and takes the stairs. It’s a curious choice because I’ve never heard him scuttling around upstairs before. I’m not sure he knows his way around, but I follow at speed nonetheless.
He takes the stairs two at a time. I close in on him easily, but I slow my pace slightly to extend the chase.
He’s running blind tonight, tearing down hallways with no way of knowing where he’s going. Portraits glint in the moonlight as I pass, and the little mouse’s heart rate speeds up, a franticlub-dubthat drums a Morse code message into the night. The night doesn’t answer, except to offer a quiet groan of timber as he passes.
