To Lie With Lions: A BBW Shifter Romance (Wolf Rock Shifters Book 4) (16 page)

Fargo leapt backwards as a domestic cat might when it’s been startled, and Nash could see that he hadn’t expected to encounter physical evidence of Cecile’s tiger. Yeah, just fuck with her and see where that gets you, he thought.

“It’s none of your damn business,” Fargo said to Cecile when he’d had a moment to slow his heart rate. “But your father has agreed to pay a ransom.”

Cecile raised an eyebrow, giving away her surprise at this information.

“I can see that you didn’t expect this. I guess your dad’s as big a prick as he seems, isn’t he?”

Sh
e didn’t reply.

“
So when’s this all going down?” asked Nash, wondering if he could somehow warn Zoe and the others that the boss would finally be in town.

“Tomorrow. I need you to stay here and guard this one,” said Fargo. “
And give me your cell phone. You won’t need it.”

Nash reluctantly handed the device over, knowing now that there was no way to contact Zoe or the others.

Fargo continued, “Malcolm will arrive in the morning. We’ll deal with him then.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Nash.

“What the fuck do you think I mean? I mean we’ll deal with him.”

Cecile’s hands gripped the thin
cot, nails extending into long claws which punctured the canvas. If they intended to kill her father…

Nash looked at her, a reassuring expression passing quickly over his face as though to say, “I will protect him and you. Don’t even worry for a second.” She understood. In fact, she knew well that she could protect herself, but somehow her father was no longer the man he’d once been and she wasn’t entirely sure that he could survive an attack by a shifter, let alone more than one. Nash would have to fight them alone, or else she would have to join in on the fray.

“I’m going to meet with the boss tonight,” continued Fargo, oblivious to the silent communication that was going on under his nose.

“This is the first time, isn’t it?” asked Nash. “You haven’t met him before.”

“Yes, asshole, it’s the first time. I’m assuming it means he’s promoting me. So don’t pull anything stupid. Piss me off and you’re toast.”

“God forbid I should rile a ferret,” said Nash, disdain coating his deep voice.

“Weasel,” said Fargo, as though that somehow improved his lot.

Fargo left after giving Nash a bag of groceries for the night’s dinner, and the steel cuffs that he was to put on Cecile’s wrists again before her father was to arrive. It seemed that they didn’t trust her not to shift.

“I won’t do anything to endanger my father,” she’d told the weasel.

“And I don’t believe you. So you get to wear the cuffs of shame,” he’d said.

In that moment Cecile transformed.

It was the first time that Nash had seen her tiger. She was enormous, though not as tall as his lion. Her fur was pure white with grey stripes, and her eyes remained the pale colour that they were in human form.

Fargo froze as the tiger approached him, thrusting her muzzle at his face. He stared at her as though he’d never seen anything of her ilk, and she opened her mighty jaw enough that his entire head would have fit into her mouth.

An inch in front of his nose, she snapped her mouth shut, the sound making Fargo jump.

As she turned and walked away, the weasel man said, “Nash, keep this chick under control or I’ll find a gun and shoot you both.”

“No problem, boss,” said Nash. “I live to keep her under control.”

With that, Fargo turned and left. Nash wondered if he’d pissed himself. He hoped so.

The night ahead would be too long and yet too short, Nash knew. He had the woman of his dreams on hand and was in fact imprisoned with her. He could make love to her all night long, and he would if she wanted him. But he knew that she was frightened, too.

“Cecile,” he said as she paced around the room, still in her cat form. She turned her head and looked at him, finally approaching. He put his hand on her back, his fingers entwining her coarse fur, reaching for her skin. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “Almost as beautiful as you are in human form.”

She transformed then and his fingers found themselves among the long strands of black hair that cascaded down her back. Her naked form stood before him: round, ivory breasts accented with rose-pink buds which grew hard in the cold air.

Between her legs, a strip of groomed black hair leading Nash’s eyes to the delicate pink that just poked out from between her lips.

“My God,” he said, his eyes caressing her. “I
still don’t know where to start with you. I want my mouth on every part of you at once.”

“So start with my lips,” said Cecile.

Nash kissed her tenderly, his hands slipping around behind her and settling on her lower back, pulling her in towards him so that he knew she could feel his hardening length press against her.

The tiger shifter knelt in front of Nash and slowly, gently
opened his jeans and pulled the elastic waist of his boxers down, revealing first the round, engorged head of his cock then his impressive shaft. She looked up at him and her expression reminded him of a child who’s just discovered the first snow of the winter.

“You look pleased,” he said. His mind was reeling at her aggressive behaviour; her ability to take control at all times. From the first day he had seen a confidence in her that he’d never known in a woman, and though he knew that she had uncertainties in her own life, he worshiped her for her knowledge of herself; of what she wanted. 

“I am pleased,” she replied before landing a soft kiss on the sensitive tip. “I am.”

More kisses, and occasionally her tongue licking at him, gathering the drops of clear liquid that signalled his desire. Nash stood, holding his shirt up, watching her stroke him with both hands. He could feel his balls tighten under her gaze and knew that this woman could make him explode in seconds if he allowed her.

“This isn’t right,” he said.

“I strongly disagree,” she replied, her tongue landing on him now in long strokes. “This is the most right of anything I’ve ever seen or done.”

“I need to get at you.”

Nash stared down at her naked body, her white breasts jutting out,
soft orbs with delicate pink buds. He reached a hand down and delicately squeezed the left one, his fingers making their way to the nipple, which he pinched and pulled, lengthening it as Cecile moaned.

Her mouth was wrapped around him now and he felt her suck, her full lips enveloping him utterly. Nash reached down and offered the same treatment to her right breast, knowing that he was probably making her pussy very wet. He could tell from the reaction of her tight nipples that they were sensitive, and from her voice that he was on the right track.

“I feel like you were designed to be fucked,” he said. “Your body was made for sex.”

Her light eyes made their way up to his face. “This,” she said, grasping his cock, “was made for sex. It was created to be inside me. Remind me to write a thank you note to whomever was responsible.”

“My parents will be delighted to receive your thank-you card.”

Cecile laughed as Nash slid his hands over her arms.

“Come here,” he said. “Stand up for me.”

She obeyed, reluctant to leave her new toy behind. And as she stood, Nash allowed his hand to trail down her soft belly. She pulled it inwards, and he said, “Don’t. Never. Your curves are perfect.”

Now it was his turn to kneel, and he did so, his hard cock sticking out directly in front of him as he landed kisses on her white flesh. He began with her belly, kissing his way to her right side and then back to her left, and gently nuzzled her breasts with his nose. She gasped, and took her right breast in her hand, offering it silently to him.

Nash understood immediately and straightened his body, taking her firm nipple between his lips. With his right hand he moved down her torso and flicked it gently over her soft pink lips as his left slid over her left nipple, hardening it to match the right.

“God, the way you make me feel…” she said.

Nash let out a groan as his cock seemed to grow ever harder. The word “horny” didn’t even begin to cover this. This was beyond sexual desire; beyond carnal pleasure. This was a craving for another being. A need to engulf, to consume, to be one
again.

“You are mine,” she continued, her voice strained as he ran his tongue over one nipple then the other, “I feel like we were meant to be together, Nash. I know it now, even.”

“Yes,” he said, coming away for a moment. “We were. I’ve known since early on. And I’ve fought it, Cecile. Because of your father and your life.” He stood and took her in his arms. “But I can’t and won’t fight it anymore. Everything I’ve done is to get closer to you. To prove myself. To win you.”

“I know.”

Cecile found herself pulling at the buttons on his shirt, virtually tearing it from his body as she revealed his muscular form to her own eyes. Each time she beheld him was just as wondrous as it had been in the valley the first day they’d met.

“There,” he said, “Now we’re even. Both naked. But I need to do something.”

He guided her by the hand to the cot and sat her down, then knelt once more before her. He thrust a hand between her knees and spread her thighs apart. Cecile cried out in pleasure and in pain. Nash, it seemed, nearly had her doing the splits.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said, his eyes fixed on the glistening pink between her legs.

Cecile put her hands behind her for support as Nash dove in, his mouth first kissing the white of her upper thighs and then teasing her, briefly landing on her clitoris before moving off. Each time he did this she let out a soft cry. It was as though he’d found new nerve endings that no one else had ever revealed to her.

She watched as his tongue settled in, extending from his mouth and stroking her slit, then flicking from side to side over her delicate clit. Looking down, she saw her full breasts and rock-hard nipples frame the image of the perfect man eating her out. She was trapped in this cabin, and yet this cabin was heaven.

At first Nash stroked lightly, reminding Cecile what it felt like to be treated with gentleness, and then his motions became more urgent. With his right hand he found her opening, sliding a finger in before pulling it out again. Cecile felt him suck on her firm pink bud and she let out moan after moan as she watched, wishing that the man could be inside her and eat her at once.

Then his finger began to explore its territory, locating the delicate opening below her slit and easing its way in. No one had ever done this and the act struck Cecile as so intimate as to be almost unbearable.

“Oh my God,” she moaned as she felt him inside her. “That’s so good.”

Nash let out a soft groan of his own as he let two more fingers slide into her pussy. Cecile wanted to cry out as he penetrated her in two places at once, his tongue easing its way around her swollen flesh. She didn’t know what felt better: the tongue, the fingers or the combination.

“I feel so selfish,” she said, her chest heaving. “I never want you to stop.”

“I…never…want…to…stop,” he replied between sucks. He pulled away for a moment. “You’re my breakfast, lunch, dinner and midnight snack. I would eat you for years, you delicious, sexy thing.”

With that, he proceeded, a gentleness to him that was astonishing. The very tip of his tongue landed on her clitoris, stroking it as though it were a cloud that would dissipate if he touched it too hard. His fingers remained inside, occasionally reminding her of their presence with a gentle thrust, but it was his mouth that worked its magic on her now. At times his lips would come to meet his tongue and he would squeeze her softly, his tongue issuing a flick that made her body leap with pleasure.

Cecile sat, her head back, eyes closed, sometimes opening them to look down. Her nipples were pink stones framing the perfection between her legs. She could see Nash’s muscles, tight as he worked her. And yet he looked relaxed, and this relaxed her in turn.

With her right foot she explored the area around his legs, searching for his body. And finally, she found it: his long, thick cock, lying in wait, hard and eager. Her toes stroked it gently and she heard him groan as he ate her. And as she felt its size her pussy tightened and ached in anticipation of what was surely to come.

Nash began to rhythmically thrust his fingers into her, with a slowness which matched his spiraling tongue. As he did so, Cecile sat upright, her fingers going to her sensitive nipples and flicking over their tips in recollection of the feeling of his mouth on them. If only he had four or five mouths,
like he’d talked about, she thought. And yet this man didn’t need them. His one was perfection.

She could feel herself grow wetter as he went at her, the sensation of his mouth making her ever more eager for him to find his way inside her and to entwine himself with her at last.

It was this thought that finally sent her over the edge, her body convulsing in waves of pleasure as his fingers pushed deeper inside her, feeling her contractions as she let out a series of quiet murmurs. “I’m coming, sweetheart,” she whispered as he ate, his greedy mouth drinking her in as she convulsed under his touch. “I’m coming.”