Page 43 of Claiming Starlight
His Sophie stood with the wolf-chasers. The red-blood women reeking of arousal, responding to the male pheromones in the air. Her eyes were wide and confused, struggling to take everything in. The setting sun-bathed her pale coloring in a rosy glow, but the closer the sun dropped to the horizon, the brighter she became.
Was she actually a beacon of white-hot starlight, or did he see her that way because she was his luna? His one true mate?
She was afraid, but too stubborn or unsure to leave him. Did she hope he’d protect her? It was a good thing she hadn’t run. He’d have torn down all of South Bloc to find her if she’d tried to run from him.
Someone dutifully opened the gates on either side of Avó’s house. Micah heard the rusty hinges creak. He also didn’t doubt that witch locks were closing every door in the area that could afford them, because nothing less would stop a shifter on the fuck-hunt.
The rumble of circling, lusting males increased. He could smell the rich scent of their need, a want matching his own. Some of the younger shifters were already erect, the pointed tips of their wolfen shafts a violent red, dripping their eagerness.
Even with the addition of the human women, there were three males to one female. Looked like some would get to share tonight, he mused. But it wouldn’t be him. He’d marked Sophie with his scent, kept her reeking of arousal, branded her with his constant touch. She was his. They all knew.
The instant the sun dipped beyond the horizon, brother pack stopped moving and howled, sending up that final warning into the night. The females didn’t stick around. That call was the flare, signaling them to run. In a second, they were gone, their human counterparts racing after them on slower legs, scattering in a mixture of fear and excitement. Micah watched Sophie jerk away from the fence, looking around wildly as the others abandoned her, but she didn’t know what was happening, what to do.
Poor clueless baby. Giving the women a short head start, the males hung back. Micah didn’t wait. He prowled straight to his starlight, undeterred by the wary look in her eyes.
Finders fucking keepers.
Chapter Eight
Micah
“Micah?” Her voice cracked when she looked up at him, uncertainty thrumming through her veins so loud he could hear it. He cupped her head in his hands, marveling at her delicate, breakable size.
Now, here, under the stars, he was going to make her his own. Take her, fill her—claim her. Mount his good little kitten from behind with his filthy too-big shifter cock and dirty her all up with his cum.
He could smell the fear, hear it in her rapid heartbeat and panting. Time for the big bad wolf to eat up this star’s light.
The hunt song over, the females scattered, the ruckus of the chase began. Shifters split off all directions, yipping gleefully as they abandoned the circle and left him alone in the yard with Sophie.
“Micah? What is going on?” She tried so hard to be brave. Poor little girl. Making soothing noises with his shifted wolfen mouth, he tried to comfort her but knew she couldn’t understand. Micah twisted her braid around his fingers as gently as he could, a familiar action. But she stumbled forward from his tug, falling into him, and her hands shot against his chest, clutching at his fur.
She tried to arch away, but he had her by the head, trapped. The heels of her hands were pressed to his stomach, trying to put distance between the gore covering his body and the meat between his legs thickening to greet her.
“Micah. I’ve never done this before. Remember? Please.” She protested weakly, but he saw her nostrils flare as she inhaled the mating musk from his scent glands that would make a coupling more pleasurable for them both.Even human females were affected by it.
He answered her with a throaty rumble, showing his teeth in a half-hearted challenge. He could. He would. She was his.
Smelling like the night, like the blue moon and brilliant stars, she was a beam of light tying two worlds together, his past and his present, two dimensions, two races. All on her own, the girl was a ley-line crossroad, the key to the future, important to them all.
Nose at her neck, he inhaled her mouthwatering scent while his hips jerked with uncontrollable, primal urges. Licking up the tears that spilled over, he lapped at her pale skin. There was no name for her flavor. Was it because she was untouched? Feminine to the extreme, uniquely Sophie—the depth and breadth of her uniqueness were clearer to Micah in his fur.
He tracked the changes in her breathing.The rushing blood turned her skin pink, ripe, ready. Pooling saliva drooled from his mouth. How he wanted to lap at the line of perspiration he smelled running down her spine.
Holding her steady by her braid, he picked at her clothing with his other claws. There was too much covering her from him. Too much between them getting in the way of their skin and fur touching. He needed contact with every part of her.
“What are you doing? Don’t. Don’t do that. We’re outside!” Her voice rose as that lacy thing she’d worn all day floated to the lawn in shreds. Licking down her neck, he tore the fragile straps of her dress. It fell away in a puff of blue.
She shouted his name. He growled at her, pulling her between his legs and pushing her down onto her dress, laying her on the ground. His own slice of starlight, shining white and clean from head to toe with just the tiny strings of lace outlining her pussy. Couched over the top of her, he nuzzled at her brow, her neck, licked his way down to her pretty, quivering tits.
Everywhere, his claws streaked pink. He tried to be careful, but the poor little thing marked up so prettily. Shoving his nose against her tits and erect nipples, he tested her textures and shape with his tongue. He’d never tire of her tits, the way they sat on her frame, the way they jiggled with her breath and echoing the pulse in her throat.
A spasm of hard want seized him, pushing from the inside out, making his dick jump and spill. These breasts would fill with milk for his pups, with life for his offspring. He wanted her heavy and pregnant. Nipples swollen; riper, longer, darker. They’d get red and raw, and he’d have to be gentle.
The image captivated his shifted mind, took hold, and swept away all other reasonable thoughts with a ferocious need to fucking breed her.
Sophie yelped when he nipped at her nipples. Transfixed with the idea, he wanted to feed from her. He crouched down closer, but they were in the wrong position. On his knees and forearms, his engorged cock rubbed uselessly over her knees while he imagined suckling her chest. He licked at her nipples again and again until her scandalized complaints turned to whines and pleas and her hands pulled him in instead of pushing him away.
The smell coming from her pussy had his cock burning, his sheath tight and restrictive around the base, the, thick bar ready for her. Not only was his cock bigger in this form, it had a different shape, bestial and alien. Not that his virgin would know. She’d not been naked with any other male, nor had she touched another cock. His two versions would be all she’d ever know.
