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“I’ll try anything as long as you’re the plate. I have no doubt you make everything taste amazing.”
I grin at him and extend a batter-laden finger in his direction. I can’t let him distract me; if these turn out the way I hope, I’m going to try making a pumpkin version that Annie Winslow can offer to her B&B guests during the autumn months.
But Callister is an expert at distraction.
He meets my gaze as he slowly takes my fingertip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and licking up all the chocolate. It shouldn’t be erotic, not really, but everything he does gets me hot and bothered.
He sucks down on my finger and slides his mouth away, pulling off with a pop. “Mmmm, that is delicious. Perhaps not as satiating as fear, but something I could certainly enjoy eating.”
I pour the batter into a dish and slide it in the oven. Technically, we now have thirty-five minutes until I have to pay attention to the brownies again, but I’m not sure if I should tell Callister. He’ll definitely take advantage, and if it’s anything like last time, when I was making cookies, I’ll be picking burned crusties out of my baking pans for the next week.
Because who cares about an oven timer or some stupid cookies when you’re being ravished by a shapeshifting monster who worships every inch of your skin? Certainly not me.
I can’t believe this is my life now. Two weeks after I moved in, my friends threw me a ladies-only housewarming party. Haven showed up with a handful of her cousins—it’s hard to keep up with them all—along with Annie, Oaklyn, Adria, Laia, and a few of my bakery regulars. They all brought food and wine, and we spent hours around my new-to-me-antique table, drinking, eating, and laughing.
Callister spends as much time here as he can; he does most of his nightmaring on the other side of the world, taking advantage of nighttime there. Then he comes home when I get off work and we hang out in this perfect house, doing whatever we want. Sometimes we bake, sometimes we explore his realm together. And he spends every night in my enormous bed, exploring all the ways to pleasure me. It’s amazing what a shapeshifter can do, that’s for sure. It turns out, he actually can make himself vibrate.
I grin at the thought, and he notices.
“How long do those have to bake?” he asks. Naturally.
“About half an hour. And no sidetracking me,” I say, shooting him a look. “I can’t let them burn.”
He gives me his best innocent face. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you.” He slides his hands around my waist, nuzzling my neck, making me want him with the barest touch.
I turn in his arms, kissing him full on the mouth. “Fine, but make it fast,” I say, nibbling his bottom lip.
“Your wish is my command.” He pulls me down to the kitchen floor, tugging off clothes as we go.
My laughter turns into a gasp as he kisses my flesh. “This is one way to christen the kitchen.”
“The best way,” he murmurs, sliding a hand between my legs.
“You’re down to twenty-five minutes,” I warn him.
“Challenge accepted,” he mutters, already kissing my bared torso.
Without missing a beat, he begins to transform. His face stays the same, but as his clothes melt away, his chest widens and his legs grow thicker. His cock, already impressive, also expands, but most unusual of all is the new addition: a long, thick tail with the prehensile ability of a monkey’s. He brings it up to my waist and lightly strokes my torso with it; it’s as soft and smooth as the rest of his skin.
“What’s this about?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he yanks me onto my hands and knees, and then whips the tail around and drags it between my legs, making a complete stroke and exiting between my cheeks, where it lightly taps my ass in a mini spank.
I giggle, but he cuts me off when the tail circles back between my thighs, nudging them apart to stroke at my core. The laughter turns to gasps. I’ve never felt anything quite like this; it’s somewhere between a finger and a cock, but more unpredictable than either.
He stretches an arm until he reaches the leftover brownie mix, which he dips his hand into. With a wicked chuckle, he paints patterns on my back, then bends down and slowly licks them away. Each stroke of his tongue is matched with a flick from his tail, right against my clit. The dual sensations make me shiver; the heat and wetness of his mouth draw an answering response from between my legs.
His tail nudges at my entrance and I spread open wider, allowing it access. It dips inside me, stroking deep. It can reach far further than a finger, but the prehensile ability allows it to swirl around, exploring all of my most sensitive tissues.
I moan and Callister reaches around, his nimble fingers slipping against my swollen clit, making it pulse in time to my heartbeat.
I groan, long and low. Somehow, I’m still surprised at how fast he can turn me on, even though it’s been happening since we met. A few minutes ago, my mind was solely on baking. Now I’m writhing under his touch, desperate to come. But at the same time, I don’t want the incredible sensations to stop.
I bite my lip, trying to hold back the intense need throbbing through me.
“Go flat,” Callister commands, slipping his tail out of me.
