I swallowed air like it was in short supply. “Thank you,” I choked out, too busy inhaling to bother with menial things like proper words. Not that he’d stolen my air, just restricted it for a bit.
My body had responded to that, had liked it. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“You’re welcome,” he purred, scraping his claws along my sides. Not hard enough to draw blood, but I’d certainly bear his marks come tomorrow.
I blinked, realization dawning on why I was in the club in the first place, and tried to focus.
Which was really freaking hard when he towed that short, stumpy little stool of his forward and planted his fuzzy-clad Santa ass between my legs.
“We’re going to play a little game of questions, pretty girl.” He stroked my inner thighs with warm fingertips.
I sighed as his claws receded to where they had come from.
Any other day, I might have looked at his ability to change at will in jealousy, but tonight, all I could do was nod my relief. “Okay.” My nodding became frantic, never-ending, and I stopped the repetitive motion with effort before the bobblehead effect became permanent. “What are you going to do—”
“I love a bald little pussy. So soft. Sweet.” His tongue swiped my pussy lips in a long, hot stroke, smearing my arousal across swollen, needy flesh.
“Ohh.” The world lit up and maybe spun around as he tasted me, proving just how talented his tongue really was.
“What kind of questions?”
His tongue did that thing again, and I let a soft, wanton moan slip from mine.
“The sort that when you answer with what I need to hear from you, it earns you a reward.” Another tongue flick and a matching moan was drawn from me. “When you give me an answer I like.”
My body loved what he was doing, craved it, and for fuck’s sake! I was so fucking broken inside, it took a twisted madman licking me to show me the reality I needed, all that I wanted.
“What if I only have answers that you don’t like?” I let out a shuddery breath, suddenly desperate for his approval.
I needed to please him. Right now, nothing else mattered. Not giving him the truth, any rendition of it, or creating lies for him that I thought fit the profile. No, all I wanted was to avoid seeing disappointment on his face because I had done something wrong or something bad. My heart sank in my chest as he stopped and looked up at me, that disappointment I’d envisaged written across the features I knew well already.
“Are they the only sort you’ll have?” He answered my question with a question, leaving me searching for the answer that would please him again.
I shook my head frantically, pushing up on my toes to ease the ache in my pussy, and spread my legs a little wider.
“I didn’t think so.” He brushed his mouth up and down my lips and reached the apex, the center of me, and spread me wide. “I didn’t think so. See? You are a good girl.”
“Yes,” I whispered, not sure if I was agreeing with him or fighting with him. Or maybe just offering my body that seemed determined to run at its own speed and agenda without prior consultation.
Whatever he was doing, every inch of me liked that, and I couldn’t do anything more than stop and watch him work.
Really, really broken.
“What’s your name?”
“Josie.” My own name got stuck in my throat. “Josie Stranger. Who are you?” I didn’t really expect him to answer, but asking a question seemed preferable to dealing with a mood change that might result in those claws again.
“Knox Townsend.” Brilliant blue, sea-side eyes stared up at me as he stroked my inner thighs like a seasoned lover.
But the truth that hit me was far darker than a man taking liberties with my body. Shit, he’d given me his full name. I’d watched my fair share of psycho reality television late at night while drinking cheap wine in my first weeks at university, and I’d learned a lot.
The first thing being that if you get their identity, run for the hills, because Mister Psycho Santa wasn’t about to let you share that coveted information with his nemesis, Mister Law Enforcement.
Funnily enough, we shared the same foe.
Shifters were far from common knowledge, and in a community prepared to keep it that way, it meant outsiders were not our friends. The same sort of outsiders I’d stupidly tried to work beside, tried to befriend. Look where that got me.
A tiny groan that had nothing to do with my current situation tore from my lips.