Shifters on Fire: A BBW Shifter Romance Boxed Set (46 page)

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Authors: Marian Tee,Lynn Red,Kate Richards,Dominique Eastwick,Ever Coming,Lila Felix,Dara Fraser,Becca Vincenza,Skye Jones,Marissa Farrar,Lisbeth Frost

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

Winifred

 

Part of me questioned how in the world Quentin could hold me up, but at the moment I didn’t even care. His careful caresses and tantalizing licks drove me wild with need. My need for him had my body shaking. My blood hot. More.

I had to have more of him.

Quentin.

He set me down on the bed and stood at the end, eyeing me with lust and desire. He had been purring since we had left the front room; it got louder now that he had laid me on the bed. I sat propped up by my elbows as his hungry eyes roamed over my body.

I twisted my legs not sure what he was waiting for.

“Take your shirt off.” The lights weren’t on, but if he could see half as well as I could in the dark, he wouldn’t need them. Anxiety crashed over me, and I glanced away from him for a second. He had never seen me naked; most of the men I had taken to bed with me had undressed me under the covers. I bit my lip.

“The shirt, Winifred.”

I gripped the bottom of the shirt, tugging it upward. My fingers grazed my skin. Feeling brave, I touched my erect nipples over my bra and shivered with delight. I pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it over the side of the bed. He seemed riveted by the sight in front of him. He stroked himself over his jeans. With what seemed like great strain, he pulled away and made eye contact with me again.

“Take the bra off, now.”

Heat shot straight to my core. His tone was demanding but never aggressive. Reaching behind my back I unclasped the lacy bra Mazy had picked for me. And I was so glad she’d picked this one and not my I-have-none-left-to-wear one. My breathing grew heavier as I realized how sensual it was for him to watch me undress. He might be barking the commands but obviously he was the one straining. My body held a power over him that made me more confident in myself than I ever had been before.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered, eyelids drooping as he leisurely licked his lips. I had never done anything like this before, so I tentatively touched my own breast. I closed my eyes imagining his large, callused hands against my skin.

“No, Winifred, eyes on me.”

My heart pounded in my chest to the point he might have seen the erratic beats. I opened my eyes and kept them on him. He undressed, his fingers trailing over his skin like I would love to do. I watched the slow movements, knowing he was doing the same with me.

My hips rolled up when my fingers pinched my own nipple, imagining it was his. Oh, my body wanted him more and more. My other hand went to the waistband of my pants, and he growled. I pulled away feeling tortured with the need to go down farther.

My eyes zeroed in on his buckle which he torturously released from the hole. He pulled it through the leather and slipped it over the fabric. My back arched as I thought about what he could do with the belt. Instead, he tossed it aside.

“Take your pants off.” His voice dipped, becoming deep and husky. A shiver of delight went down my spine. Following his lead, I pulled my pants down as slowly as he did his. Since went commando, his thick member sprang up free from its constraints. I kept my panties on even though I knew he wanted them off. It felt like a tiny triumph against his demands. It also made my insides feel light with rebellion.

“Take them off,” he growled, focused on the last piece of clothing I had on.

Quentin’s voice brooked no argument and it had my body clenching at nothing.

I stopped touching myself and moved my hands to the bed.

“You will just have to do that yourself.” My voice was husky with need. I didn’t even know how I managed to get my voice to sound like that. I had never been able to sound so sensual in my life.

Quentin didn’t look too pleased that I stopped my movements and waited for him now. He crawled across the mattress toward me. I ached for him to touch me, to even brush his skin against mine.

I tried to lift my body to his, but his hands kept our bodies separate. He hovered over my breast, I breathed a little heavier. I wanted him to latch on, but he stayed there. The anticipation was slowly killing me. My head screamed for more and when I was ready to beg, he brushed his tongue over my aching peak.

I sighed, my whole body relaxing to tense again when his lips pinched the nipple. His teeth scraped over it, working me back into a frenzy. He roamed to the other side, and his hand massaged while the other nipped.

My gut clenched. I needed more.

Quentin made it down to the swell of my belly and I felt my cheeks heated with embarrassment. I didn’t want to feel ashamed about my body, but old insecurities had been reinforced by my ex. I ignored the feelings coming to the forefront of my mind.
He
wouldn’t ruin this night for me.

Instead, I lost myself to the sensations my mate brought me.

My hands combed through his hair.

Mate.

It felt right.

Quentin’s tongue flicked under the elastic of my underwear. I shuddered, wanting so much more. He snapped the elastic against my skin. My hips jerked upward, my body no longer waiting for my mouth to beg him for what we both desired.

“Tell me what you want, Winifred.” A whisper against my skin.

“You,” I panted.

“Louder.”

“You,” I screamed.

He flipped me over, pulling my panties down in one slick movement. I wasn’t even sure what had happened until I felt his breath against my back. His hand slipped down to my core that had been demanding his attention. I lowered my chest so my backside lifted higher, giving him better access. I wanted him to touch me so badly I wanted to force him into it.

“All right, Winifred. No need to shout.” He sounded like he was smiling. I wanted to turn to see him, but he kept me faced away.

“Oh, no, Winifred. You disobeyed.” He glided his hand up my spine. On the trail back down, he touched every vertebrae. I had no idea it could be so carnal, but it had my animal inside leaping and stretching her back. I felt the sensations with her. He dragged his teeth gently across my back, stopped, and turned me back over.

My insides were a bundle of tight nerves. I wanted release, and at this point I wanted to submit so I could get it. Quentin positioned himself over me and dipped his head. His lips captured mine, overlapping them with a sweet kiss meant for me alone.

What we were doing was no longer stratifying our animals but became more intimate. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. His muscles rolled under my touch. My hand spanned his strong jaw. He turned his head to my palm and placed a small kiss there. He pushed in, inch by inch, and I cried out. He filled me so completely and it felt amazing.

He groaned, his neck straining tight. When he looked down at me his eyes swirled to his tigers then back again. He began to gently rock until we found our rhythm together. We paced ourselves, enjoying each other’s touches and how the other felt. Quentin showered my face with kisses and I returned them when I could.

Quentin’s pace quickened and my desperate noises grew louder. We were so very…close. My nails scraped over his shoulder, frantically holding on. My breathing went ragged and I tingled from the inside out. I got closer to the edge, just waiting to be pushed over. Quentin slammed in hard and I released. I cried out, either his name or incoherent words, I couldn’t be sure. He grunted, finishing seconds after me.

He pulled out carefully and padded out of the room to return a few minutes later with a washcloth to clean me up. My cheeks burned when he threw it into a corner in the room. Quentin moved us up to the top of the bed and pulled the covers over us.

I turned so I could curl up by his chest. Quentin moved stiffly and wrapped his arms around me. He moved like an expert during sex, but now he seemed to be uncomfortable.

“Tell me more about your past,” I whispered trailing my finger over his chest.

“What is there left to tell?”

“Didn’t you celebrate Christmas or Thanksgiving like they do in the movies?”

Quentin moved backward and tried to look me in the eye. I refused to do so.

“And what of your past, Winifred?”

“Why do you insist on calling me Winifred?”

“Why do you insist on me calling you Winnie?” he asked, not joking or any humor in his tone. He was always so serious. In the car ride over, I had more than once tried to get him to sing along with me. He would give me a strained smile and look back to the road.

“Why don’t you like nicknames?” I kept prodding him. He would open up to me.

“My parents had the best tutors in the shifter world to teach me manners, all sort of schooling. Nicknames are below my status.”

I turned my head so I could see him when I asked, “Then why are you a mercenary?”

He took in a breath.

“That is a very long and complicated story.”

We went silent for a good long while after that. His thumb rubbed circles in my back, lulling me closer and closer to sleep.

“Tell me about your past, Winifred.”

Sleepily I snuggled closer to his chest.

“At the age of five, I was put in an orphanage. I never found out what happened to my parents.” I had been too young to remember, so I took pieces of me to create the faces of the people I couldn’t remember. There were fragments but because of the nightmares of my childhood, I wasn’t sure if they were fact or fiction. Speaking of my parents had always been a topic I avoided. There was nothing to talk about. My nose tingled with the threat of tears. Quentin’s arms tightened around me. Stealing his strength I found the courage to continue.

“Sometimes I think I am the worst person in the world. Sometimes I hate them. I really, really hate them.” I felt so safe in his arms. He wouldn’t judge me. I’m not sure what part of me was so convinced of it, but I couldn’t let the thought go.

“Tell me what makes you smile.”

“Fighting with you does the trick.”

Quentin grunted and pulled me up so I was level to his face. His icy-blue eyes softened as they searched mine. “No more fighting.”

“Kissing you helps.”

“Then we will do that.” He made good on his promise.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

Quentin

 

After another heavy session with Winifred, she was back in my arms. With none of the females I had laid with had I had practiced the art of snuggling. Winifred’s nose brushed against my skin and made the muscles quiver. I didn’t think she knew the power she held over me. It had been less than a week since I met her and my animal had fallen in love. I saw the potential in such a desirable woman.

She and I spoke throughout the night. Winifred was persistent in asking me about my past. When I told her about growing up with my parents, her lips would press together, her eyes would soften in sympathy I did not seek.

“What about Christmas? Did you go with them to pick out a tree? Then did you decorate it? And oh my God! How was it waking up Christmas morning?”

She wanted the classic, cookie-cutter answers. The ones I knew without a doubt would put a smile on her pretty face. They weren’t the answers that I could give to her. I didn’t want to coddle or lie to her.

“We didn’t do Christmas like that. My parents were usually away on separate trips or working.”

“But didn’t you want to do those things?”

“Did you?” I asked.

Her cheeks flushed. “I did. But what kid didn’t?”

“One who didn’t understand that was normal. That it was something to be desired.”

“I am going to give you one of those Christmases.” She nodded her head. I raised my brows but allowed her the victory. She might not have realized that she had planned our future together, but my tiger purred, content she saw it his way.

“Winifred…”

“Hmm…?”  Her sleepy tone made me smile.

“Why did you hesitate with me?”

“What do you mean?” She rubbed her face against my chest, discreetly pulling in my scent.

“I see how you hold yourself. At the bar, you are all confidence; you hold your body in great regard. Then at times you are so guarded, so far from the woman I know you to be.”

She went silent. I thought she had fallen asleep, but she spoke again, her lips brushing against my skin.

“My ex was…brutal.” She paused and I knew my tiger was close to the surface. “He was very controlling, and his favorite way to control me was to beat me down with his words. He made me doubt myself. I left. And I have been running from his ghost for a long time.”

I felt murderous toward a man I hadn’t met. I didn’t like the idea of his speaking ill to her, but I sensed he’d subjected her to more than verbal abuse. I would kill the bastard after I finished with the other men who had threatened her. My arms tightened around her, a silent gesture that she was safe with me. Mind and body.

Winifred fell asleep in my arms a few minutes later, after about three jaw-cracking yawns. A small, satisfied smile curved her lips. My tiger puffed out his chest, proud that she was relaxed in our arms. Sleep eluded me. Tomorrow I would have to leave to head back to the city. Lucas had already started the hunt for her attackers, and I should have been with him. This was my mate we were fighting for.

I would have to leave her here, unattended. The thought filled me with disgust; it went against all my animalistic instincts. Inside, my tiger started to pace, his jaw opening wide, displaying the dangerous daggers inside. There wouldn’t be any convincing him she was safe here.

Sleep overtook me some time later.

 

The morning was
pleasant
. I woke to a hand stroking my morning wood. My spine tingled with desire. I allowed her to continue to explore while I savored her touch. When it became too much, I rolled her to sit on top of me, her long hair covering her full breasts.

My tiger growled, aloud. Her gape of shock melted into a sensual smile when I rolled my hips so my cock touched her backside, reminding her what she had started.

Winifred’s eyes darkened. Her lips parted in a pant, her tongue caressing her bottom lip. She lifted her hips, her hands pressing hard on my chest. I didn’t mind for a moment but she stopped. The scent of her lust faded into one of fear and embarrassment. She lifted her leg to climb off me.

Clutching her sides, I pulled her back to where I’d wanted her in the first place. “We’re not done, Winifred.”

She lowered her head, her gaze avoiding mine.

“Winifred, look at me.” My tone was more biting than I wanted, but she complied. I rolled my hips again and her little gasp had my cock twitching for more of her sweet sounds.

“Where did you think you were going?”

The top of her cheeks and ears burned bright red. She bit her lip.

“Winifred.”

“I don’t want to…hurt you.” She sniffed, and I could see the sheen of tears.

“Trust me, Winifred. You can’t. Finish what you started.”

The only reasoning I could come up with as to why she would think she could hurt me was her weight. If she was concerned about that, I needed to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with her. She was a gorgeous female who should be proud of her body. I certainly was.

A defiant look brightened her eyes. She lifted herself, gripping my cock between her soft fingers. She aligned our bodies, and achingly slow she slid her body onto mine. Her eyelids fluttered, and my tiger growled with satisfaction. 

I thrust upward when at times she moved too slowly. She curved over me, her erect nipples brushing my skin. It made me want to move harder, faster, bring her the release I knew she desired. But, more than that, her hair fell to one side of her neck. The other lay bare for me.

How I wanted her flesh between my teeth. How I wanted to bite down and truly claim what was mine. My mouth watered at the idea. Winifred’s sweet flesh was centimeters away when I regained control of my animal and his hasty movements. She didn’t know what it would mean, and I didn’t want to scare her. Not now. If she ran away from me, she would be putting herself into more danger, and I wouldn’t allow it.

She screamed in pleasure, her walls clamped tightly around me as she came, and I chided myself for coming so close to losing control. I would have marked her as mine without her permission. My tiger couldn’t be trusted with her. I needed to get rid of the threat against her and continue our courtship. I couldn’t be hasty in my decision.

My tiger responded with a loud roar in protest in my mind.

He wasn’t logical; he was driven by instincts. I had a lot on the line.

And yet…

Winifred came out of the shower now, her hair wet, skin pink from the hot spray and with a contented smile. “You promised me a fight.”

Her words caught me off guard.

“You were going to make me smile, start up a fight.”

“I am not going to fight you over nothing, Winifred.”

“Sure you will.”

“I will not.”

“You are.” She laughed. The sound seeped into my skin like a soothing balm. There was something magical about the way her eyes lit up, and her shoulders shook with giggles long after she stopped vocalizing her laughter. Such a lovely creature.

“I need to head back to the city soon, Winifred.”

Her lips tightened, her nostrils flaring once. She went from happy to angry in seconds. Was she scared to be alone in a strange place?

“How long are you leaving me here?”

“For however long it takes.”

“You’re going to maroon me?” She pulled on her pants, her hair curtaining her face.

“I’m not marooning you. I’m trying to protect you,” I snapped.

Winifred grabbed her shirt and stomped into the bathroom. A muted noise sounded from the back of her throat in disgust and she slammed the door. I heard her quiet sobs and padded over to the bathroom door. Her fear wafted out.

“Winifred…”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

She opened the door a crack. Her eyes were puffy and a little red. I pushed the door open and cupped her cheek, the silky skin smooth against my rough palm. She was too soft for me. Too delicate. I didn’t deserve such a mate.

“Tell me.”

“I’m scared. Terrified.” The sight of tears typically sent me running in the opposite direction, but instead I pulled her close. She fit seamlessly in the circle of my arms and I held on tight.

I waited for her to go on. She would speak when she was ready to, and I didn’t want to push her. She shook. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on keeping my tiger back. He gutted me, trying to get to her to soothe her, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t understand what I was doing was the best for her. She sniffled, rubbing her forehead on my pecs.

“This is all so new. We were moving so fast before. Everything coming at me at once. I just had to roll with the punches, but it started to settle in this morning. With you gone, I won’t have anyone to ask questions about my animal. Or what it means to be a shifter. Or…”

Her breathing turned short and sporadic. Winifred started to hiccup trying to get more air in. I rubbed my hand over her back while the other arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close. Her broken sobs slowed, her shoulders loosened in my hold. She let out a long breath.

“This is so very overwhelming, and now you are going to go hunt men for me. And you are calling me your mate. And last night—and this morning—was mind-blowing. I don’t think I have ever had better sex in my entire life. It was like…wow.” Winifred took a step back and stared hard at the wall behind me while talking about our night together.

My tiger rumbled when she mentioned that I was the best she ever had. Partly from pride, but mostly anger at the thought of her being with others.

I was no saint, but it didn’t stop my animal from thinking of all the other men who had touched her. And wanting to rip their heads from their shoulders. I took a deep, calming breath, letting it go. She wasn’t with those men anymore, and she was mine.

“We have some time before I leave. Ask your questions.” I grabbed her hand and brought it to my mouth, inhaling her sweet scent of rose and fresh rain. My lips caressed the skin, her pupils dilated, and for a second I thought I saw her animal shining through before it disappeared again. A split second, but her animal awakened. I hoped it would wait for me to return to fully emerge so she wouldn’t have to go through her first shift alone.

The desire to stay here with her was strong, but then I thought of the men that had come to her apartment. I thought of the man Lucas had put in the ground for me because I was taking care of her. No. First, I would kill the men who dared to think of taking my mate and selling her then I would come back to her. She was safe out here. No one knew about this place. She was safe.

I led her to the kitchen and settled her at the table then whipped up breakfast. I wasn’t much of a cook. My parents hadn’t taught me basic life skills like cooking, laundry, things of the mundane. We had people for that. Another reason I had chosen this career-it paid for the lifestyle I was accustomed to. But, Winifred… I wanted to cook for her. I wanted to take care of her.

She watched me stumble around the kitchen assembling food. Winifred’s chair scraped against the wood as she stood up. She grabbed my hands, directing them to the eggs and instructed me through breaking an egg. Soon we worked together to make scrambled eggs.

While we cooked, we remained silent. Our bodies spoke for us. She would brush against my arm when reaching over me, mischief in her eyes. I would return a long reach from behind, the length of my body pressing against her back. She shivered with delight as I pressed feather-light kisses to her neck.

Winifred stirred the eggs. She glanced up and grinned, humming and dancing to a song that didn’t exist. Her body moved in tight twists, and shakes, taunting me.

I stepped forward holding her hips and nipping at the back of her neck. She leaned backward, her curvy backside grinding against my groin, where evidence of my readiness awaited her. Her desire flooded my nose, making my dick twitch. She rubbed herself against me, causing my mind to go hazy.

My lips dragged over the back of her neck. She sighed, leaning heavily backward. I bit her, not enough to break the skin, over the top vertebrae. She let out a desperate moan, clutching the counter to hold herself up.

I pulled in her scent. Intermingled was a smoky, distasteful odor.

 

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