Shifters' Storm (10 page)

Ah yes, the temperature was just right. Maybe the most perfect she’d felt in her entire life. She couldn’t see where she was going and yet wasn’t concerned. She could, she guessed, stop and figure things out, but walking felt like floating, and that was awesome.

Wherever she was belonged to her, and yet she shared it with something living. Maybe a lot of somethings. Of course. Critters and creatures, birds and insects. Maybe frogs. Thinking she might step on something living if she wasn’t careful, she looked down. As far as she could tell, which wasn’t much, nothing was ahead of her, but maybe that was because her feet had never intrigued her as they did now.

Men would love her toes. She could tickle and stroke certain male body parts with them, but only if the man met certain criteria.

Intrigued by possibilities, she pondered how a man or men might please her. Having sex, of course, but not just getting it on and getting it over. She’d insist on variety, the unusual, the heretofore unknown.

The word unknown had her looking up and around. It might be her imagination, but wasn’t it getting warmer and wasn’t night giving way to a soft, shadow-filled dawn?

Logic said that wasn’t right. Night lasted longer than this. But she didn’t complain since daylight was better. Once she could truly see, she might start to make sense of what was happening.

Determination lasted for as long as it took her to cover about a hundred feet. Then, maybe in response to the air’s growing warmth, she contemplated her naked body. Movement rolled through her breasts to send sensation over her belly and from there to her pussy.

Not giving a damn what the resident creatures and critters might think, she cradled her breasts. The wavelike movement floated from her palms to her fingers. When the aftershocks tiptoed up her arms and claimed her shoulders, she shivered.

Interesting. Walking braless had turned her on.

Thinking to play things out to the fullest extent, she cupped her breasts and lengthened her stride. There still weren’t any obstacles in the way, and morning was full upon her. A few shadows remained among the trees.

With each step, her thighs brushed. Each caress of flesh against flesh ignited her sex a little more. Sighing in pleasure, she ran her hands down her sides and spread them over her thighs.

Despite the unexpected thought that she should hurry away from wherever she was, she slowed. Every part of her was engaged in the act of walking, and yet it was more than that. Curious about what that more might be, she brought virgin air into her lungs. Oxygen fed her veins and heart and filled her muscles with warm energy. Something she couldn’t see or touch started circling around her and brought her fully in touch with herself.

She was a sexual being, a woman who had sex with a man who felt most alive when he was impregnating one cow elk after another. She’d never carry his child, but that didn’t mean she didn’t worship his cock.

Oh yes, a cock, the organ that said everything about what made a man a man.

A moan pressed against her teeth and then escaped. Intrigued, she stopped and concentrated on the fading sound. When she could no longer hear it, she vigorously rubbed her thighs. The friction sent a hot rage between her legs. Her heartbeat doubled, and she nearly collapsed.

Too much time passed before she was strong enough to look around. Her body still felt sexually used up. No longer trusting herself or her surroundings, she lifted her hands off her thighs and wrapped them around her waist. If this was what touching an electric fence felt like, she’d do it again and again, later.

This wasn’t happening. She was dreaming. No doubt about it, she’d never had a more vivid or sexually productive dream, but she hadn’t lost contact with reality.

Reality? Where was it?

Still clutching her waist, she slowly turned in a circle. The tree shadows she’d dismissed earlier now seemed sinister, but that couldn’t be right, because she’d never feared anything in the wilderness.

Only this wasn’t the wilderness she knew. This terrain was the product of her imagination, wasn’t it?

Growing more alarmed, she stared intently at the trail she’d been traveling on. Despite being well tended, it didn’t seem to be heading anywhere. For all she knew, she was walking in a circle.

It was time to wake up. So what if she spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling? At least she’d have control over—

Something to her left and slightly behind her whispered. Heart slamming, she started to turn toward it, only to stare disbelieving as a rope loop appeared over her head. It hovered there, tantalizing her. Then gravity claimed it, and it floated down to settle around her. Before she could think what she should do, the rope tightened, pinning her arms to her sides. She tried to shake it off but couldn’t.

More confused than panicked, she stumbled backward, pulled about by tension on the rope. She’d been lassoed, but by who? And why?

The tension continued, compelling her to take several more steps. Someone was playing games with her! Treating her like some cow or bronc being readied for branding.

“Damn you!” she cried and dug her feet into the ground. Widening her stance, she leaned forward and braced herself. Two could play at this—this whatever it was.

At least the rope, although unforgiving, didn’t abrade her flesh. In fact it was quite comfortable, all except for the unrelenting and inescapable part. Now that she’d had a few seconds in which to process things, she allowed as how she certainly wasn’t a cow or wild horse, no one had any reason to want to slap a brand on her.

Determined to locate and hopefully identify the rope’s owner, she looked back over her shoulder but couldn’t see anything except the glimpse of a shadow directly behind her.

“Not funny. Whoever you are, knock it off.”

To her shock, the shadow started circling, wrapping more rope around her as it did. No, she acknowledged when two white strands rendered her arms completely useless, this was no game. She’d been captured. By a man.

Chapter Nine

Rane’s captor was at least six and a half feet tall with a warrior’s body and the thickest, darkest hair she’d ever seen. He needed a shave. Like her, he wore nothing. Unlike her, he was in control. Overwhelmed by his greater size and the way his ebony eyes burned into her, she put up no resistance as he placed a third loop around her. She couldn’t lift her arms and yet her circulation wasn’t being cut off.

He stepped closer. She commanded herself to fight but didn’t. Feeling stupid and trapped and excited, she watched as he did something to the rope in front. The backs and sides of his hands grazing her breasts confused and thrilled her. He was doing that on purpose, damn him, yet it felt so good.

When he stepped back, she realized he’d tied a knot in his handiwork, guaranteeing that the bonds would remain in place as long as he wanted them to. Dropping the loose end so it trailed over her belly and against her mons before hanging between her legs, he folded his arms over his chest and studied her.

Caught. His.

“I don’t understand.” She hated the squeak in her voice, but maybe it would keep him from figuring out she was more turned on than frightened. “What’s this about?”

“About you learning what I’m capable of and you need. What I’ll do to achieve what I must.”

Ber’s voice! Why hadn’t she recognized him? “I told you to leave, that I want nothing to do with you. I meant it then, and I mean it now.” All except for the pulsing in her pussy.

“No you don’t, and even if you did, it wouldn’t matter.”

When he reached down, she thought he intended to snag the rope. Hoping to outmaneuver him, she whipped her body to the side. Gripping the loop closest to her breasts, he hauled her back in place. She was still struggling, stupidly so, when he took hold of the loose end and threaded it between her legs. That task completed, he turned her from him and pulled up so the cotton pressed against her sex and settled between her ass cheeks. All too soon, he’d tugged it tight and secured it to one of the damnable loops.

“There.” He held up his hands much as a steer roper at a rodeo might. “You wanted me to let go. How does it feel?”

Like the world revolved around her body. She’d risen onto her toes in reaction to the pressure against her labia. Now she slowly lowered her weight onto the balls of her feet. It was just her imagination, her overloaded brain’s attempt to hold it together, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d chosen white rope because he knew it would contrast with her tanned flesh.

Her legs were free. She could take off, not that she stood a chance of outrunning those long, powerful limbs. Besides, every time she shifted, she became even more aware of the foreign object her sex juices were dampening.

She couldn’t let him know that! Much better if he believed she loathed what he’d done to her.

He stood far enough away that she shouldn’t be able to feel his presence, yet something reached toward her, calming and exciting her at the same time.

With minimal and undoubtedly pleasurable work on his part, he’d turned her body into a sex object. The rope under her heavy, sensitive breasts lifted them and accentuated that part of her body. Her nipples had become tight nubs. Her arms were useless, the constant pressure against her pussy impossible to ignore. He could do anything he wanted to her, and she couldn’t stop him, couldn’t touch in return.

Touch? Surely she didn’t want to do that.

She always bought jeans that didn’t bind at a strategic place. Otherwise, her sex had a disconcerting way of responding when she needed to concentrate on other things. So much for thoughtful purchases. The rope between her ass cheeks, against her rear opening and pressing on her slit owned her. She could barely think beyond the sensation.

Ber knew exactly what he’d done to her. He might be a bear with a man’s body but undoubtedly he understood how hers was responding. What did it matter if she ignored him while taking a few experimental steps? Despite herself, she gave silent thanks for what felt more like soft cotton than a binding. If she tried to run, the strands would irritate certain sensitive places, but as long as she stood still or took slow, small steps, she felt no discomfort.

Discomfort? Hardly. More like hovering inches and moments away from losing control. Any other time, given the so-called assault on her sex, pleasure would have already swamped her. She’d have embraced her sexuality and leapt head and heart into a climax.

But this was here and now. Until Ber decided to end this—this whatever it was—she’d continue to dangle over the erotic cliff.

“What’s this about?” Teeth clenched and throat hot, she walked in a tentative circle. What might be endless moisture continued to soak the rope between her legs. Her juices tracked down the insides of her thighs. Her nipples ached deliciously, and she didn’t dare take a deep breath. “Why are you doing this?”

“Training you. Teaching you what we’re both capable of.”

Confused, she rose onto her toes then dropped back down when her experiment offered no relief. Her fingers had been clenched so long they threatened to cramp, and she wished she could think how to stop her nostrils from flaring. Except for Ber, her world had become hazy. Only he was important.

“What am I?” she demanded. “Some wild horse you roped for the hell of it?”

“You’re wild, all right.”

When he started toward her, she shied just as a nervous horse would. Stopping, she bit down a gasp as he slid a hand between her belly and the rope. He hadn’t pulled or tugged, but he could.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” She hoped she sounded calmer than she felt. “You’re a man and I’m a woman. We could—”

“Am I a man?”

“All right,” she amended with her attention on what was happening. She prayed he wouldn’t do anything she couldn’t handle. “You’re a shifter. I get that. What makes you think you have to”—she nodded at his hand—“do it this way?”

“You kicked me out, remember.”

“Me, kick you out? Like I could pull that off. Besides, you went willingly.”

“I had my reasons.”

Later she might be interested in what those reasons were. “And after you did, you decided to do this why?”

For the few seconds his smile lasted, she fell in love with what it did to his features. Then he turned sober, and in his eyes, she found his grizzly half.

“Because I can. Because we both want this.”

Like she’d ever admit that to him! It was safer if he believed she was furious and repulsed. Of course, if he reached between her legs… “Where are we?” she asked in an attempt to turn the conversation in another direction.

“It doesn’t matter.”

It might be her imagination or reaction to the hint of a growl in his deep voice, but his outline seemed to be becoming less defined. Because she’d seen the same thing happen to Songan, she wondered if Ber was about to shift from human to animal. The thought of what he might do to her once he had alarmed her.

“I was wrong.” She stumbled over the words. “I should have heard you out earlier. I’ll listen now, I promise I will.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He pulled up on the rope just enough for her to take note. “I’m not interested in talking.”

“Then what?” She had to keep him calm, somehow.

His slow, searching gaze took her in from neck to feet and back up again. The pressure against her sex increased. Even with the growing tension, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt more of a woman. More wanted or wanting.

“You’re after sex,” she whispered. “Sex with me. I get it.”

“Do you?”

Her teeth clenched against a whimper, she stood as straight and tall as possible. Goose bumps chased over her shoulders, and her stomach muscles tightened. Even as she strained to lift her arms, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with them. Loss of control meant turning everything over to this big, strong man. He wouldn’t hurt her. She had to believe that.