Hidden Crimes (18 page)

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Authors: Emma Holly

Tags: #romance, #erotica, #paranormal romance, #contemporary, #werewolf, #erotic romance, #cop, #shapeshifter, #fae, #shapechanger, #faeries, #shapeshifter erotic, #hidden series

BOOK: Hidden Crimes
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Now
I’m taking you,” she said as she
breached him with it. “Now I’m making you mine.”

Her voice was breathless with arousal. The
sound nearly pushed him over—never mind the cock ring. He felt the
extra curve at the metal phallus’s tip searching out his prostate.
Craving that like he wouldn’t have believed, his eyes began to
sting with sweat.

“Tell me when I hit it,” she whispered.

She’d bent herself around him again, leaving
only enough room between them for her hand to manipulate the toy.
Her heart was pounding, her hot skin soft against his. The curve of
the butt plug found the spot she was looking for.

The effect was like a gun’s hammer striking
sparks. A spasm bulleted from his prostate and up his cock,
electric fire licking all the nerves. He couldn’t have stopped the
climax to save his life. He gasped, coming without a drop of seed
shooting free.

Evina knew what was happening. She kept the
tip locked on his joy trigger, rubbing back and forth at shifter
speed, her weretiger dexterity allowing her to maintain the
pressure on the exact millimeters that lusted after it. He whined
in reaction, unable to keep it in.

She liked that, all right.

“Nate,” she breathed, his name a gift coming
from her lips. She stretched up, mouthing the back of his neck.

He’d suspected she meant to do this, and yet
it shocked. Her incisors lengthened. She bit his nape and held
on.

She was taking the man’s position with
him.

Switches flipped inside him, primitive
reactions he didn’t know he had in him and couldn’t hope to
repress. She dominated him, and the pleasure of that swamped him.
She felt like his alpha, protecting him, making sure he was happy
and satisfied. For once, he experienced no urge to throw off the
subordinate mantle. She did this
for
rather than to him. The
only mystery was that surrender could feel like an action and not
the lack of one.

But maybe that was because he’d chosen to let
her master him.

He muffled his cries on his own shoulder, not
wanting her to stop as his body strove to ejaculate. It couldn’t do
it. The rapture inside him simply spiraled higher without breaking.
Finally, it grew too intense to bear.

“Enough,” he rasped.

Evina released him immediately, her hand
coming to a halt behind him. Nate was breathing so hard he lifted
her up and down.

“Take off the cock ring,” he commanded.
Inexplicably, that felt as natural as her controlling him.

She removed it with trembling hands. His cock
felt strange without the constriction: fuller and not as safe.

Then again, he wasn’t in the mood to be safe
right then.

“Come under me,” he ordered.

“Do you want me to remove the cuffs?”

His claws had extended and were dug into her
bedposts.

“No,” he growled, because he didn’t want them
dug into her.

She scooted under him, her curly head on the
pillow, her wide and glowing eyes meeting his. She didn’t look
afraid but as if she worried she’d gone too far. He wasn’t sure how
to tell her she could have pushed him anywhere she liked, and he’d
have gone happily. Come to that, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to
know. He liked her niggle of insecurity. Given how rocked he was,
it was only fair.

“Has it happened for you like this before?”
he asked gruffly.

She didn’t deny their exchange had been
intense, shaking her head tight and quick. “No. I never had the
nerve to ask anyone to play like that.”

“Good.” The word resonated with satisfaction.
Her hands came up to his chest, kneading him just a bit.

“Nate . . .”

“No,” he said at her cautioning tone. He
wanted no reminders they weren’t supposed to be serious. “Let me
enjoy being the only one.”

~

He dipped his head to kiss her while she was
still startled by his possessive tone. It occurred to her that Nate
hadn’t been threatened by her playing dominant, not like her ex
used to be. Considering how easily Nate assumed the leading role,
this was ironic. She’d have thought about that more, because the
idea of being able to be herself with a man seemed sort of
important. Nate’s kiss didn’t give her a chance to follow the
thread. Those lips of his were addictive: their smooth warm
firmness and their agility. His tongue slipped inward—stroking,
sucking, luring her to forget everything but him. Her knees drew
higher, her thighs contracting to hug his narrow waist. She was
wet, and the upward roll of her pelvis pressed the moisture against
his skin. He let out a hum of pleasure at feeling it.

He continued to grip the bedposts, the
stretch of his arms preventing the weight of his upper torso from
sinking onto hers. Taking advantage of the extra access, she ran
her hands up and down his front. Because she was so excited, kitty
claws lightly raked his lean muscles. This didn’t bother him. His
breath came faster, his mouth changing angles to go deeper. Wanting
to purr at how good he tasted, Evina wrapped her clawed thumb and
finger very carefully around his throbbing cock.

That broke him from the kiss.

“I’ll come this time,” he said.

“I want you to,” she answered.

His face flushed darker, and probably hers
did too.

“You have to scoot down so I can enter
you.”

She scooted, not letting go of him.

“Just place me,” he said. “I’d like to push
in myself.”

She didn’t know why him saying that was a
turn-on. Maybe everything he wanted was going to be one for her.
She brought his tip to her, squirming as the satiny crest parted
her swollen folds. More cream welled up in her, a longing sound
breaking in her throat.

“Do you need a gag?” he teased even as his
cock jerked and trembled against her. “You really shouldn’t. You’re
the one using all the toys.”

She growled at him, though she was
amused.

“Ready?” he asked, lifting one dark
eyebrow.

“Do it or I will,” she warned.

He smirked and pushed from the hips and, oh,
he went into her like a dream. He was just right—his thickness, his
length, the little grunt he made when he was in all the way. He
might have lost control in the cock ring, but he seemed to have
recovered it. She rubbed her hands up his back, groaning with the
sheer tactile pleasure of their contact.

“Sh,” he cautioned. “You need to be quieter
than that.”

He drew back within her, biting his lip when
her muscles tightened around him. The flare of his rim stretched
the nerve-laden area near her gate. He forged in again slowly.

Evina’s hands curled into almost-fists on his
back. “I’m going to scream if you don’t go faster.”

He laughed as softly as she’d spoken. “I love
how wet you are,” he crooned, repeating his pelvis’s wavelike
motion. “My dick could drown in that amount of cream.”

Evina crossed her ankles behind him, trying
to pull him in harder. “Good thing your dick doesn’t need to
breathe.”

This time he laughed silently. “You know what
else I love?”

“No,” she said, miffed she wasn’t strong
enough to shift his pace.

He dropped his mouth to her ear. “I love that
your pussy muscles could crack a nut.”

“I’ll crack your nuts if you’re not
careful.”

He nipped her earlobe and stirred a shiver.
“That butt plug is still in me. Maybe you should use it to speed me
up.”

“Promise it will?”

He kissed her deep and intimate in reply. If
that was meant to distract her, it only worked for a few
heartbeats. She glided her hand down to grip the ring at the base
of the polished toy.

“Shit,” he broke free to gasp when she gently
rotated it. A second later, his hips rotated too.

“Like that?”

His eyes flared at her. “You know the answer
to that.”

To her relief, he took a tighter grip on the
posts and began to sling harder into her. He used good long
strokes—steady, strong. They pressed into her at their culmination,
his pelvis grinding her clit. That didn’t make her come straight
off, but it certainly pulled her closer, obliging her to bite her
lip against a nearly uncontrollable urge to groan. His expression
grew more determined, though his face went dreamy each time she
stroked the toy over his prostate.

“Mmm,” he hummed, changing thrusting angles
inside of her.

He hit an unexpected sensitivity in her
pussy, some happy net of nerves concentrated in her right wall.
Evina gushed, and arched, and suddenly he really went at her. He
wasn’t groaning, but he was panting hard.

“Come,” he huffed, his body focused on
executing this new stroke. Sweat glittered on his face, the muscles
in his outspread arms bulging. His pelvis slammed into her. “Come
for me, Evina.”

She knew she was going to. All those
delicious feelings were gathering low and heated inside her sex.
God, she wanted to go over. Playing with him before had gotten her
so worked up. She tightened on him, loving how that made him gasp.
His cock jerked inside her, and abruptly he felt fuller, like he’d
gained some impossible inch of girth. Hissing, he rubbed the fuller
bit harder against her, his shaft continuing to angle to the right.
Her orgasm spiked into existence, gone from almost to completely
there. With the last of her brainpower, she remembered to rock the
butt toy inside of him.

He grunted, his head flung back and his lips
pulled into a snarl. His upper and lower canines glinted in the
light from the bedside lamp, reminding her how animal men were when
they climaxed. She knew the extra stimulation was bringing it out
in him. He was powering into her, ejaculating so strongly she felt
the heat of it.

The orgasm she’d thought was
there
suddenly proved it could double.

She started to moan and heard a snap. He’d
broken free of one wrist cuff. His palm slapped over her mouth,
muffling the sound she couldn’t help making. Her body jerked, the
partial restraint exciting her. Her orgasm thundered higher, points
of hot sensation marking her tightened nipples, her clit, the arch
of her curving feet. Nate must have liked her reaction.

“Unh,” he grunted into her pillow, shooting
hard into her again. “Unh.”

Wetness spilled thickly out of her.

Jesus
, she thought, the climax finally
ebbing for them both. Nate slowly relaxed on top of her. He moved
his hand from her mouth.

“Christ,” he sighed, and it was like he’d
finished her mental curse.

He snapped the leather ties on the second
wrist cuff, demonstrating how voluntary his bondage was all along.
His newly freed hand stroked her ribs. “You okay?”

She nodded, breathing too hard to speak. He
rolled without warning, pulling her on top of him. She wriggled,
testing him out as a mattress. He was certainly warm, and she liked
the way his arms circled her. Though he couldn’t quite comb her
tangled hair, he did pet it down her back.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured.

“You too,” she mumbled, ear pressed to his
heartbeat.

Then, without a second thought for
consequences, they sank under together.

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

NATE couldn’t move his feet.

He knew he’d been sleeping—and not in his own
bed. Evina lay behind him, her hand flopped lax and warm on his
back. Her scent was nice to wake up to, a mixture of peppery and
sweet spices. Because of her position, she couldn’t be the weight
immobilizing his lower legs.

Knowing he had to face it, Nate opened
reluctant eyes.

His heart nearly stopped. Lit by a square of
sun from the window, a tiger the size of a German shepherd sat
staring solemnly at him.

“Um,” he said, grateful sheets covered them.
“Are you Abby or Rafiq?”

The tiger blinked. Within the orange and
white and black patterning its face, its eyes were a startling
blue, like the crystalline waters of a sheltered Caribbean cove.
Nate cleared gravel from his throat.

“I’m Nate,” he ventured. “Perhaps your mom
mentioned we were friends.”

The cub yawned at him, displaying teeth and
tongue. The reaction seemed relaxed rather than insulting. As if to
confirm this, the tiger dropped its furry head to its sphinxlike
paws. A smile tugged the corners of Nate’s mouth. Coming up on one
elbow, he stretched out an arm carefully to scratch the cat behind
one round ear, working his fingers into soft thick fur. Fortunately
for those fingers, the tiger didn’t object.

“I think you’re Rafiq,” Nate said. “You feel
like a boy to me. I bet your mother would like you to change for
breakfast. Not to brag, but I scramble a mean egg.”

A muffled warble issued from the tiger’s
throat, more like a bird sound than a cat’s purr. The cub tilted
its head for a last good scratch, then pushed to its feet and
thudded softly onto the floor.

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