Marie Harte - Grayson's Gamble

He licked his lips. “You’re Ross. I was told you were a male. Big mistake, that.”

She couldn’t stop herself from noticing the visible bulge between his legs. He wore different clothes from the standard Circ khaki the rogues normally arrived in. Stretchy material made specifically for men who shifted into larger beings.

Sebastian wore dark, ripped pants with cargo pockets that had been filled with ammunition she’d gladly helped herself to in addition to his pistol. A newer model than the one she had, it looked impressive, and she couldn’t wait to try it out.

After I try him out . Her beast purred in her breast, and Sebastian heard it.

He dragged his gaze from her stiff nipples and looked her in the face once more. “You’re different.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not a rogue.”

“No, but you’re Circ.” She shrugged. “Same difference to me. You come to kill me, I kill you first. Too bad Trenton still doesn’t get the message.”

“Trenton?”

She didn’t want to talk about her dead father’s friend. Prick extraordinaire, Dr. Caleb Trenton. She wanted to… Her attention caught and held on the sluggish drop of blood soaking the neck of his sweater. As much as she wanted to let him lie there aching, some part of her didn’t like him in pain.

“Where does it hurt?”

He let out a laugh, surprising her. “Where doesn’t it hurt?” An awkward pause as they both glanced at his cock that had yet to go down. “Well, there, I guess. God, this is embarrassing. I’ll never live this down.”

“You’ll be lucky to live at all,” she murmured, fascinated with his arousal. Unlike all the others, he smelled healthy, despite his wounds. No trace of infection as she’d thought before. No madness either, just warm, soothing, and sweet male.

“So do that thing and heal me, like you did before.”

She didn’t realize he’d understood what she’d done. “What?”

“When you licked me. You cleared my head and took the pain. Lick me all over, anywhere you want. I won’t mind.” The teasing sparkle in his eyes took her aback. He was erect but didn’t seem overeager to fuck her. Instead he used humor. To disarm her, maybe? Yet he didn’t seem to be anything but genuine. Very, very strange. He didn’t fit the usual mold of her enemy.

“Shut up,” she said, just to say something. He chuckled again but silenced when she flashed inch-long claws at him from her fingers. Dragging her nails against his sweater, she cut through the fabric with ease and pushed and pulled the material from his body. To her odd relief, most of his wounds seemed healed but for the few still healing.

“I’m close but not a hundred percent,” he offered. “Not like you.” His voice deepened. “You look perfect. Not a mark on you.”

He didn’t seem to mind the black streaks that pulsed on her forearms, or the hellish eyes that stared at her anytime she looked in a mirror. “Like feline pupils dipped in blood,” one of the rogues who’d once captured her had remarked. Right before she’d gutted him and run far, far away.

“Can’t say the same for you.” She didn’t like the blood all over him, because though most was his, some belonged to the rogues and mutants from the woods. Ali left him and returned moments later with a pot of hot water from upstairs. Solar panels gave her the luxury of electricity and hot water while keeping her free of a paper trail.

“Where did you go?”

“I’m right here.” Annoyed that she liked him asking after her, she found a clean cloth nearby and washed his chest.

He watched her as she ran the towel over his flesh. “That feels good.”

“Wonderful. I want you to feel great before I kill you.”

“So pleasant. You sure you don’t know Gray?”

“Who?” She frowned when he chuckled, feeling the butt of a joke she didn’t understand.

“You’ll meet him soon enough, I’d say.”

Silence passed as she washed him. She used a clean part of his sweater to dry him off. Then she trailed a hand over his skin, feeling the uneven break of a few ribs that seemed to mend right under her palm.

“Hurts, but it’s hot too. Right where you’re touching me.” Sebastian’s thick voice warned her to back away. “But you’re making it worse too.” He took a deep breath and inhaled, his nostrils quivering. “Oh wow. Alison, tell me what you’re wearing. You smell so good.”

His eyes changed and changed back as she watched him watching her. The urge to lean closer and taste him again tickled.

“Do it.”

She licked her lips, aware he knew her intent because she couldn’t look away from his firm lips. A subtle shove knocked her off balance and over his chest. She righted herself and found her lips an inch from his.

“Kiss me,” he ordered. All tied up, flat on his back, and growling commands.

“I will if I want to.” She paused, wishing she sounded more in charge and less breathless and in lust. “And damn it. I want to, so shut up and lie still.” To her surprise, he did.

But the minute her lips touched his, she knew she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

Bas had entered a kind of heaven and hell from which only one end would free him. So long as the minx kissing him let him come, he’d do anything she wanted. Anything.

He moaned under the onslaught of her lips, in charge and enslaved at the same time. He’d move his lips. She’d move with him, then take over the kiss. His tongue had invaded and swept through her mouth, licking up the sweet syrup of need that covered the unusual female. Only with Gray had he experienced such mind-blowing lust. And look at how that turned out.

And then he felt her nipples against his chest, the hard little nubs he’d been unable to look away from when she’d entered the room. Talk about a handful of soft, round woman. She made him remember why he could never commit to one sex over the other.

His ribs protested when she pressed against him, but his beast took the brunt of the hurt, turning it into an echo of need. Painful pleasure—the one vice that got him off as nothing could.

He’d broken a few ribs, but in the time since she’d brought him here and bound him to this bed, he’d healed. Slowly, but enough that only twinges of pain remained. He still didn’t know what she’d done to him. By all accounts, he should be much weaker than he felt.

Her little tongue swept over his again, and he sucked on it, loving the taste of wildness, woman, and hunger. It had to be her. Her magic, her Circ skill, whatever made her so special to the rogues hunting her. She’d healed him. She made him want.

But was it real? Was this desire normal or hormone-induced? He’d heard of a few female Circs with the ability to regulate their pheromones. It seemed Ali could do the same. Yet his beast told him there was more to her than that. She’d obviously begun mutating. But what on the other monstrous Circs looked hideous, on her only seemed vibrant.

He arched up, wanting her to feel every inch of him, needing to impress her with his size and stamina. Hell, his beast was half in love with her, the way he was with Gray. The creature wanted to keep her, to protect her, while at the same time he wanted to dominate her, to show her she belonged to him.

She moaned and angled her legs and hips so that she rode his cock. He could smell her arousal, and it fired him to use all of the assets at his disposal.

Though he couldn’t push past the reinforced restraints she’d used on his wrists and ankles, his mind had enough strength to bench press a truck. For the first time that he could remember, he willingly used his telekinesis, and it responded to his command. He yanked off his trousers and underwear while he pulled off her pants as well. He felt her smooth, wet flesh tease him before she settled down, clasping his shaft in her hot pussy.