To Lie With Lions: A BBW Shifter Romance (Wolf Rock Shifters Book 4) (17 page)

Finally when her tremors had almost ceased, Nash pulled his fingers out and landed one final, delicate kiss on her clitoris.

“Are you happy, sweetheart?” he asked, his gorgeous face looking up into hers.

Cecil
e couldn’t help but laugh. “How could I not be? You just sent me to Heaven and back, Nash.”

He rose slowly and said, “Good. I like being there with you.”

As he stood before her his perfect cock showed her that it too was okay with this.

He laid her down on the cot, kissing her mouth as he did so, her knees bent and her body inviting him in as she parted her thighs.

“Oh wow, you beautiful thing,” he said, his hand sliding up the inside of her left thigh. “You’re perfect.”

Cecile chose to believe him for a moment. She was perfect and the perfect man was on top of her. She felt sorry for the rest of the world.

It was only a moment before she felt his cockhead tease her opening, and he looked down at her face as though to ask silently for permission to enter.

“Please, Nash. Please,” she whispered.

He pushed into her with a deep thrust, and she cried out. Had there been anyone nearby in the woods they would surely have heard it. But each of them felt like there was no one else on earth in that moment; only the two of them.

Nash was long, yes, but it was his thickness that made Cecile squirm with pleasure. He filled her up so well, her lips enveloping him so that she could feel each throbbing vein, each slight variation in surface. As he began to move in and out of her, his arms holding him above her, she closed her eyes and allowed her lover to watch her face contort in pleasure and the odd moment of delicious pain when he thrust especially hard.

He pulled out almost completely, allowing himself a series of short thrusts that seemed designed to once again tease her delicate opening, and then he pushed his pelvis forwards, his entire length penetrating her. Each time this occurred, Cecile cried out, wanting more and more and more.

Nash leaned down and kissed her mouth, their tongues entwining as his thrusts became more rhythmic, more consistently deep. Cecile felt him twitch within her, as though his blood was somehow still finding a way to his cock, hardening him still more.

“That’s for you,” he said softly. “My cock is for you. I am for you.”

She looked into his eyes now.

“And I am for you.”

This seemed to push Nash over the edge and he began to move faster and faster into her, his body slamming against her thighs. Cecile continued to stare into his eyes, determined not to look away until he exploded as she had in waves of perfect pleasure. She
wanted to see what he looked like in that moment when his body took over; the Nash who was usually so calm, so seemingly controlled.

“Baby, I’m getting close,” he said. “I
’m going to come inside you again.”

“God, yes. Come
in me. Come for me, my perfect lion.”

With that his eyes shut tight and he slammed into her a final time, the pulsing between Cecile’s legs increasing as his cock shot its
searing heat inside her. Nash’s mouth was sealed tight, and yet it took only a moment for his lips to part and emit a sigh of utter ecstasy as his eyes opened again.

He looked at her face with a sweetness that Cecile imagined only angels possessed.

Still inside her, he leaned down and kissed her lips gently.

“I adore you,” he said. “My white tiger.”

“I know.”

Nash laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, let’s see,” Cecile said, laughing in turn as she looked at his bronze body on top of her ivory one. “Yes. It’s that obvious.”

She kissed him now. “And for the record, I adore you too. Even though you kidnapped me and you hang out with the scum of the earth.”

“Everything…everything I do is to make the world a better place for you.”

“I know.”

With that, Cecile put her arms around him and pulled his body down, his arms finally giving way. She held him against her, never wanting to let go. Never wanting the peace of this moment to end.

In the morning the two separated their bodies, shifted and dressed in preparation for what was to come. Cecile wrapped the overcoat that Nash had brought with from her father’s house around her, covering herself as much as she could; her other clothing was too torn up to wear again.

Nash dutifully attached the metal cuffs around her wrists as he’d been asked to do. It was no accident that he “forgot” to click the clasps in place, but he managed to make them look secure nonetheless.

It was around ten a.m. that they heard the SUV approach and eventually car doors and voices.

The door opened. Nash had waited all this time for this moment. The boss would finally be revealed. Who was he?

But the only people he saw were Cecile’s father, who looked unkempt and a little battered, Fargo and Larry, the shifter with the multi-coloured eyes. Brick seemed conspicuously absent, after being such a meat-headed presence the day before.

“What’s going on?” asked Nash, his impatience
kicking in. “I thought his holiness, the lord commander was coming.”

“He’s here,” said Fargo.

Nash looked at Conrad Malcolm. “So it is you,” he said quietly.

Malcolm raised his head and looked into Nash’s eyes.

“Far from it,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I don’t understand. You said…” Nash looked at Fargo.

“I think I can help you out,” said Larry, stepping forward. The wounds that had been on his face from the grizzly attack seemed to fade in front of Nash’s eyes. Then he pulled his shirt off, then his pants, and shifted into the form of a large grey wolf with light blue eyes. The same wolf Nash had seen attacking the calf, what now seemed like an eternity ago.

“Holy shit,” said Nash.

The wolf morphed then into something else: a jaguar. And then a bear; a grizzly with a drooping lip. And then Brick stood before Nash.

“I wanted to have a look at Conrad Malcolm’s daughter,” the man said
. “But not as myself. This oafish body seemed appropriate.”

Then he shifted again, finally, into
a lion who looked very much like Nash himself.

“So you’re a changer,” Nash
said. “And the leader.”

“Nash, meet Lawrence Donner,” said Fargo.

“You knew this whole time?” Nash asked, his tone accusing.

“No. I didn’t. Believe me, this was a surprise.”

Cecile winced when she heard the name. She remembered it from her childhood; this man who had been arrested. She had hoped with everything in her that she’d heard the last of him. She remained seated on the cot, anxiously looking at her father for traces of injury.

“Why,” she asked quietly, “are you doing this? What do you want with my father?”

The lion changed then, and a naked, muscular man stood before her. He picked up his pants off the floor and pulled them on.

“Well, my dear,” he said, “Let’s just say that I’m paying a debt.”

“What do you mean? Dad, what does he mean?” Cecile was growing nervous now.

“
He doesn’t mean anything,” her father muttered. He seemed disoriented and his voice made Nash think he’d been punched, if not kicked, in the gut.

“No. Nothing,” said Lawrence. “Aside from the fact that this man, your beloved father, stole my wife.”

Cecile stood now, and stared at the two men. The strong one, who looked as young as she was, and the one who now seemed so weak, bent over, his grey hair messed up, his clothing disheveled.

“What? Your wife? That’s not possible. My father has been single since my mother died.”

“No doubt. Well, in all likelihood he’s frequented some houses of ill repute—you’re not naïve enough to think he hasn’t had sex, are you, young woman?” Lawrence seemed to alter again now, his face aging a little, but remaining similar in structure. It was as though he’d only been concealing his years behind the façade of youth and vigour.

“When I was younger I had a few businesses back in
Riverside. Your father worked for me. He was good, too. Very clever, very good at sales, if you want to call them that. Good, too, at intimidation. He was a big strong tiger, wasn’t he? Weren’t you, Conrad?” he asked, turning to Cecile’s father and putting a hand under his chin. “Yes. You were the best. And you were a handsome thing, too. The ladies certainly loved you.”

Malcolm let out a quiet sort of a grunt. Cecile wanted to run over and to protect him but she knew that she needed to wait. She had to find out the truth behind all of it. Maybe, at last, she would come to understand why her father had been lost to her.

“One lady in particular enjoyed your father,” said Lawrence, looking now into Cecile’s eyes. He approached her and as he did so, his own eyes changed colour, to a very light blue like her own. He put a finger under her chin as he’d done to her father and held his face only inches from hers. Cecile saw Nash take a step forward, prepared to strike should this man threaten to hurt his mate.

“Stay back, young lion,” said Lawrence, not turning his head. “This isn’t your business.”

“You’re making it my business,” said Nash.

“Am I? Are you worried that I’ll get my hands on your woman?” With that, Lawrence placed a palm in Cecile’s waist and pulled her to him. With the other hand he pulled gently at the garment which was wrapped loosely around her chest. “Worried that I’ll find my way to her naked body and have my way with her, as her father did to my beautiful wife? You know, she looked just like you, Cecile,” he said. “So lovely. And so tasty.”

With that, he licked her cheek from her chin up to her cheekbone. Cecile winced and Nash felt his claws and canines try to force their way out. He wanted to tear this man to pieces.

“What the fuck do you want?” asked Cecile, whose hands were still behind her back, feigning entrapment.

“I want to show your dear daddy what it’s like to lose the woman he loves.”

“So none of this was about money? None of it was about controlling the town?”

Oh, don’t mistake me, darling. I love money. It’s my favourite thing. Next to repaying my enemies. And I have no greater enemy than your father. He took my wife—your mother—and he walked away, as though I’d never done a thing for him. He’s an ingrate, a bastard, and he deserves what’s about to come to him.”

“My mother was my father’s mate. You should understand that, you freak,” she protested, her rage increasing.

“Freak, is it? I suppose I am, a little. Able to turn into almost anything or anyone. And yet I lacked the power to save your mother when she died. I lacked the power to keep her for myself. All these skills and I couldn’t have the one thing I wanted.”

“What are you going to do?” Cecile asked finally.

“Fargo…restrain our lion friend, would you?” asked Lawrence. Fargo grabbed Nash’s hands and pulled them behind his back, slapping on a pair of handcuffs faster than Nash could react. The one trait that the weasel had going for him was speed, which was even greater than the lion shifter’s, and Nash grimaced at the realisation that for once, the bastard had the advantage over him. He felt the cuffs with his fingers and realized that they weren’t the same as Cecile’s; these were simple steel handcuffs. Fine for humans, not so effective on shifters.

“So you asked what I’m going to do?” said Lawrence. Canines eased out of his gums, growing to sabre-tooth-like lengths. “I’m going to kill you, of course.”

With that, the man leaned in and Cecile felt sharp points ease their way into the flesh of her neck.

In a split second she threw the steel cuffs to the ground and shifted, her tiger lunging at the man, who shifted in turn. Suddenly Cecile faced herself: a white tiger, prowling before her, its icy eyes staring her down.

She positioned herself sideways, her back arched, ears flat on her head and snarled at him.

Nash watched both cats, his hands attempting to free themselves from their shackles. This wouldn’t end well, he knew. Cecile was strong and fit, but Larry was stronger.

Conrad Malcolm, who stood hunched and facing the two great cats, seemed to snap to attention though. When one of the white cats leapt at the other, tearing at its side, the man who’d looked so weak and beaten down suddenly contorted into what looked like physical agony. Nash remembered that it had been years since Cecile had seen her father in cat form. But now he was changing, slowly and painfully, into a tiger.

Fargo saw it, but a little too late. He shifted too, leaping at the large cat who swatted him out of the way with his paw. The weasel went flying into one of the hard wooden walls and the wind was knocked out of him.

Nash, meanwhile, saw the brutal fight between the two cats, each of whom was giving and getting in equal amounts. The white fur was now caked in spots of blood and he knew that Cecile was suffering from multiple wounds.

Malcolm snarled, his tiger strong yet looking helpless as he paced, trying to allow instinct to kick in.

Nash knew that it was to him to win this fight, and that he was in for some pain of his own.