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It wasn’t long before her curiosity took over. The lingering stroke became harder. Faster.
He jerked his jeans lower, giving him room to spread his knees as he braced his bare feet on her floor while offering her better access to him.
“Harder,” he murmured.
She increased the pressure, stroking him with more force, proud that his soft pants and the pleasure twisting his pretty features were a result of her unpracticed touch.
Colton obviously didn't care that she had no clue what she was doing. Some things were just intuitive, she supposed. Plus, it helped that he was open, telling her exactly what he needed to feel good.
He started to rock along with her, moving down when she was stroking upward, creating a rhythm that had Colton grunting and Shea wondering what it would be like to lower her head just enough.
The mouthwash helped, but the idea of tasting Colton’s musk on her tongue did even more to banish the dirty tang of the Nightwalker’s blood.
She dipped her head. On the next stroke, she angled his cock toward her mouth, darting her tongue out to lick the head.
Colton’s knees shook.
“I’m gonna… oh, hell.”
He bucked in her hand, fucking her fist as soon as she re-situated herself on the floor. His hips were like pistons, moving back forth as he thrust. Shea tightened her grip, hanging on for dear life. With her free hand, she reached up underneath him, caressing his heavy sac with her fingertips.
That did it. That last sweet touch, that one caress, and Colton growled out his orgasm. Thick, white ropes of come jetted out of him, painting her hand and her floor with his spend.
In the quiet that followed his release, all Shea could hear was her heart thudding frantically, her breaths coming out in short pants as she resisted the urge to grab him again and just swipe her tongue along the length of his shaft.
The air crackled before she could lean closer to Colton.
She froze, her heart thudding in her chest as a bodiless voice echoed through her living room.
“A gift for my betrothed.”
Colton’s gaze went icy. His pants were still pulled down to his knees, his come splattered on Shea’s hand and her hardwood floor, the two of them absolutely vulnerable—but when his gaze went cold like that, she felt a warmth that filled her all the way to her toes.
“What the fuck was that?”
“It’s him.”
Julian. It was Julian.
He wasn’t there. Though her heart had leaped into her throat at his interruption, she kept her shields down. She could sense Colt’s pleasure, his fierce protective instincts, his rush of anger cutting through the last of his hazy orgasm. His beast was instantly on alert, the man conceding just enough control that he could tap into his animalistic strength in a second if he needed to.
Claws shot free from his fingers, the glossy black reflecting the candlelight as he raised them high, ready to defend her. His mate. His fangs lengthened just enough to match a Nightwalker’s fatal grin.
“Stay here,” he told her, his gorgeous features twisted into that half-wolf, half-human visage as he shifted partially again.
Since he was still maintaining mostly a two-legged form, Colton stepped away from her, reaching for the waist of his jeans as soon as he had some space. He yanked them on, leaving them unbuttoned in the front as he whirled around.
“Where are you, you bastard?” He moved lightly, throwing one arm out, covering Shea with his body. “Come out where I can see you.”
She wiped her sticky hand on the ass of her sweatpants before reaching out to lay her hand on the back of Colton’s bare back.
“He’s not here,” she said quickly. “Use your senses, Colt. You know he’s not here.”
“I heard him.”
“The Nightwalker can throw his voice,” she said in explanation. “You’d be able to hear him, scent him. Trust me. He’s not here.”
Julian didn’t know that she’d just been intimate with Colt—but the timing was way too coincidental. He had to have guessed. If a vampire’s blood-bond worked anything like a shifter’s mating, then could he have felt it when she—
