Moira Rogers: Moonshine

Claire tried. She could feel everything . The world was alive with sensation, with passion , caught in the exhilarated place she always went as she shifted. Instincts she'd repressed and ignored for years awoke, shuffling her timid humanity aside as she was reminded that this was what she was at heart: powerful, magical... amazing .

Lars' voice tickled her senses, but she couldn't understand his words anymore. Words were a human thing, anyway, and she wasn't interested in humanity right now. His presence scraped her raw nerves, and she recognized him as both a challenge and a danger. A temptation. Someone against whom to test her strength. It would be nice to win, but so good to lose...

Her knees went weak and she slid down the wall, her hand still wrapped around the sleeve of his jacket. He hoisted her up, pressed her to the wall and growled softly. His face went to her neck, and his breath skated across her skin like fire, making her shudder.

She curled her fingers into his hair and dragged his head back, baring her teeth in a warning that was completely undermined by the way her body rubbed his. Her nipples were so tight it was painful, and a growing ache built between her thighs—an arousal so strong the only word for it was need. She wanted him with a desperation that defied description. She craved . Yet she would never simply submit. With her teeth still bared, she snarled at him.

He barked out a laugh at her challenge and pulled her hair, hard. He growled and scraped her jaw with his teeth. Then he bit her neck, deep enough to bruise. Pleasure and pain mingled together with primal satisfaction as she yielded and melted against his body for several heartbeats. Then she growled again and bit his ear, reminding him that she wasn't weak or submissive. If he wanted her, he had to work for it.

The initial rush was starting to fade, only to be replaced by a persistent tingling. The world moved more slowly, except for Lars. He raised his mouth to her ear and growled, "The moonshine makes you do shit you didn't even know you wanted to do."

It was true. The nagging desire that had been impossible for her to explain to her ex was clear now. Her instinct wasn't to submit—it was to find someone strong enough to make her submit. It was a dark, shameful realization, but there was no room inside her for shame. Not when it felt so right . Anyone who couldn't claim her didn't deserve her.

"What do you think I want to do?" she asked in a low voice, wondering if he sensed her desire as easily as she recognized his.

"You want to fight," he rasped, using one of his thighs to move her legs apart so he could grind his hips against hers. "And you want to lose."

For one brief moment, she hated him for saying it aloud, for making it real. Then the feeling was gone, lost in the tingle of the moonshine and the rising desperation of her arousal. She swung at him out of instinct, catching the side of his head with her hand and raking her nails down his neck.

When he moved, it was with such speed it was painfully obvious he'd let her scratch him. He caught her wrist and dragged it to his lips. He sniffed a little, then bit her hand. "You smell like disinfectant. Death."

Lost in the rush of drugs, the truth spilled out before she could stop it. "I was at the hospital with my ex. I hurt him."

Lars just stared at her, his face inches from hers, his blue eyes burning like fire. "Did you, now?"

"He’s just a human," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "It was the first time I was in control of the sex. I broke his collarbone."

He made a chiding noise. "You've got to know how to handle them during sex. Humans." He dragged his tongue across her cheek. "If you do it right, it's hard to hurt them. Trust me, I've tried."

"Why did you try to hurt them?"

His head fell back a little, and a growl rumbled up from his chest. "Because they asked nicely."

She did it before she could stop herself, before she even realized she was moving. She found the exposed skin of his neck with her teeth and closed on it. His growl morphed into a low yelp, and he yanked her head back. "Play nice," he warned her hoarsely.

Claire stared up into his eyes and panted. She didn't bother to hide the challenge in her gaze as she whispered, "Make me."

He snarled and pulled her hair harder, then lowered his head and snapped his teeth on her skin, biting her just as hard as she'd bitten him. The pain disappeared in a wave of instinctive satisfaction. She groaned and clutched at his arms, her fingernails digging helplessly into his jacket. With magic singing through her veins and his body pressed against hers, she knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed.

So did he.

"Come home with me." He whispered the words, hot and demanding, against her ear.

Claire didn't even think about it. She just agreed with a jerky nod and a whispered, "Okay."

He'd thought she might balk at riding on the back of his bike, especially with both of them high as kites, but she just accepted the helmet he offered and climbed on. They sped out of the city and into the countryside, her arms wrapped firmly around his waist. He could feel her heart pounding even through his jacket, but she didn't make a sound.

He clung to her hand as he nudged open the door of his tiny trailer and pulled her inside. "Come on in. Want another beer?"

"Sure." She wandered toward the table, running her fingers absently over its edge before touching one of the pieces of the radio he had spread out over it. "You fix stuff?"

"Simple electronics. " He shoved a laundry basket out of the way before opening the fridge and pulling out two bottles. "I’m not so good with computerized stuff."

“I want more of the moonshine.” She accepted the beer from him, her eyes unreadable as she drank half of it in one long pull.

He eyed her for a long moment, then nodded. She might not be used to it, but it wasn't going to kill her. "You can have another cap."

Claire poured it herself this time, accepting the flask from him with a dangerous smile and unscrewing the lid. The scent of moonshine hit him, sending hot excitement racing through his body as she measured out the liquid and tossed it back. She handed him the flask and relaxed against the couch, one hand falling to rest above her head.

"Fuck..." Her eyes closed, and her other hand slid to her stomach.

He smelled her arousal, heard the way her heart beat just a little too quickly. He took another hit of the moonshine himself before screwing on the cap, swearing when heat flooded his body.

Claire moaned, and her head lolled back on the couch. "That’s the best feeling I’ve ever had."

He grinned, then groaned as the rush overwhelmed him. "You ain't seen nothing yet, doll." He knelt in front of the couch and tugged at her legs, moving her closer to its edge. He knew just how intense the slightest touch would be right now, so he wasn't surprised when she moaned again the second he touched her.

Claire lifted her other hand over her head, wrapping both of them around the back of the couch, as if she needed to cling to something. "How is it going to possibly get any better?"

Her nipples were hard, pressing against her T-shirt. He reached up and pinched one. "Haven't decided yet."

"Fuck!" She slid into his lap, straddling his legs with her upper body still arched over the seat of the couch. Her hands curled into the hem of her T-shirt, and she tore it in her haste to drag it over her head.

"That's how it gets better," he said, tearing one of the straps of her plain bra. The fabric peeled down easily, freeing one breast. She ground her hips against his with another moan and snapped the other strap, leaving her bra wrapped uselessly around her torso.