Page 21
Not because of the stranger. Or the shadows. Or this unsettling feeling in my stomach. And certainly not because of that familiar hot earthy scent outside the barn.
No, I lock up the house because of the storm.
TWELVE
STERLING
My cock is hard.
I stare at it in the mirror before wrapping a hand around the base, sucking in a breath as I do. It’s more sensitive in this form–smaller than when I’m fully shifted, but still a considerable size. I shudder as I stroke myself, widening my stance and watching in the mirror as my chest rises and falls with my movements.
It feels good. Really good, but it would be so much better with Caspian next to me. Or under me. On top of me. Hell, any way I can have him.
I may not have interacted much with humans over the years, but there have been times I’ve needed to fit in. So, I’ve studied them enough to understand them – their wants, their needs, their desires, and, of course, the mechanics of how they derive pleasure from each other. I so badly want to see what Caspian looks like when he lets go, when he flies with the pleasure I can offer him. I wonder what he likes in bed. Does he like it slow and sweet, or maybe he prefers it a little rougher? Would he let me bite him, let me rub my essence all over him? What sounds would he make as I took him, pressing my huge cock into his body?
My beast rumbles, a growl building in my throat, and I close my eyes and relax into the pleasure I’m giving myself, my human’s face clear behind my lids.
He’s a prickly one. Pretty eyes, pouty lips, and his fear? Delicious. It poured off of him in waves, and it took all my energy not to step closer and lick the spot beneath his ear where I know the scent is sweetest.
I don’t love that I lied to him about why I’m here – lying has always been an aspect of human behaviour I said I would never inherit. But then I saw an opportunity to be closer to my sweet human, and I took it.
I can’t wait to get to know him better.
Stroking myself faster, I curse, pleasure building, my pulse racing and my limbs tingling. I have full control over my knot and I relax into the tight grip of my hand and allow it to grow. The sensation is electric as I squeeze the bulge, closing my eyes and picturing Caspian here with me. Pressing it inside him. Stretching him wide and making him moan beautifully.
Outside the wind is howling, rain pouring in large drops that hammer the earth. Thunder roars, but it’s no match for the pounding in my ears. I sniff the air, hoping to catch a whiff of my human that will throw me right over that edge.
My body stiffens, and I stop my movements, opening my eyes wide.
There is a scent in the air, but it’s not Caspian’s. It’s rotten and evil and it shouldn’t be here.
Letting go of my cock with a huff of annoyance, I stalk to the tiny window and look out at the farmhouse. It’s in full darkness, Caspian’s car parked in its usual spot, but the odour is strong, carrying on the wind and making my nose twitch.
Taking a step back, I close my eyes and swiftly call forward my beast, my legs shaking as they grow larger and stronger. Fur covers my lower body, and my tail stretches out behind me.
I’ll just check on him. Pop my head in and make sure he’s okay.
Rain glides off my waterproof fur as I cross the distance to the farmhouse. At the front door, I extend a nail into the lock, hearing it click when I rotate my finger. Then I lean on the door and push. But unlike the times before, it doesn’t budge. My scared little human has bolted it shut.
Unperturbed, I inch around the side of the house, coming to a sudden halt when I find the backdoor wide open. My ears prick up, trying to distinguish the surrounding sounds, but I only hear the rain and when I sniff the air, there’s nothing but the fresh aroma of rain on earth.
Puzzled as to why he would bolt the front door but leave this one open, I step inside, my eyes glowing as I take in the kitchen. There’s a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter with an open bottle of red wine next to it. The room is silent save for the hum of the fridge and the tap tap tap of droplets on the windowpanes. Quietly, I close the back door, then make my way on my toes to the entry hall, taking a large step to miss the creaking floorboard as I take the stairs. Caspian’s scent is strong up here. Sweet like peaches and fresh grass, with a slight bitter bite to it. I resist the desire to go straight to his room, my nose picking up another, less welcome smell in the other direction.
Turning my back on Caspian’s room, I head down the hallway, coming to a stop at an open door. A trace of minerals and wet soil sits heavy in the air, but when I step inside, the room is empty. My hackles rise, the three fins on my back standing up straight, because while there is no one in here now, I can sense that there was earlier. Moving slowly across the room, I come to a stop at a large chest of drawers. The bottom one is open, papers strewn on the floor beneath it. On top of the dresser, there’s a photo of Caspian and a couple standing in front of a boat. A boat I recognise as the one that got destroyed in the storm. I run a clawed finger over it before turning to take in the rest of the room.
The bed sheets are rumpled, and there are piles of clothing stacked against one wall. A few shirts hang over a chair in the corner and the curtains are open. But there is nothing remarkable about the space, nothing that gives me any idea why someone would be in here uninvited.
I leave the room and head towards Caspian, keeping my footsteps light on the threadbare carpet. Hovering at the door, my eyes glow, and I take in my perfect, prickly human, spread across his bed. He’s on his stomach, a huge white t-shirt riding up his lower back, showing off one butt cheek covered in black fabric. His blanket is scrunched up, covering the other half of him, and he has one arm folded beneath his pillow.
He’s beautiful. Exquisite. I ache to reach out and touch him.
Moving closer, I drop into a crouching position and bring my nose to his neck. I take a deep breath in. My cock stirs and my blood heats. I palm my growing erection, eyes and nose trained on my human. He shuffles against his sheets, his hand coming up to rub the side of his face, the back of it brushing my fur. If he opened his eyes now, he’d be looking right at me.
There’s a part of me that wants that. Wants him to see me, the real me. Wants to know what he’d do if he saw me here, watching him. Wanting him. But then the logical part of my brain, the part not controlled by the primal beast that I truly am, knows that he won’t like what he sees. Because then he’ll know how badly I let him down.
Stalking into the corner, where the room is darkest, I squat down on my hind legs and watch him. His nose twitches and his eyes move rapidly beneath his lids. He whimpers, moving his head on the pillow. There’s a frown running along his forehead, and he purses his lips and rolls over so that his back is to me. Unintelligible words pass his lips and he moves again, kicks his sheets off and settles on his back, one arm above his head and the other stretched out towards me, palm open.
He goes still and moments later, he’s snoring gently, a smile settling on his lips. He’s peaceful now that whatever nightmare he was having has passed. Taking a step towards his bed, I inspect his open palm, and the scar running the length of it. I can’t help tracing it with a feather-lite touch of my claw. Caspian balls his hand into a fist, turning his head in my direction. I hold my breath, watching emotions cross his features, though his eyes are closed and his breaths are even, so I know he’s still asleep.
