Transformation Page 4

  He looked steadily into her eyes. “Yes. I can.”

  Her heartbeat speeded up a little. Knowing that he could hear that, that he was aware of everything going on in her body, sent a little shiver of mingled excitement and nervousness through her. She pressed her thighs together as wetness tickled her folds. She wanted his hands on her body. Wanted....

  No. This was crazy. She felt as if she were on an out-of-control roller-coaster ride, going too fast.

  She stood. “Justin....”

  Justin walked slowly toward her. Warm fingers touched her cheek, and she felt his breath against her ear. “You’re aroused now,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. “Aren’t you?”

  She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some sense of control.

  Her breath caught in her throat as he tilted her chin upward, and his warm lips touched hers. Her stomach fluttered. He pressed his lips more firmly to hers. The kiss was gentle, but knowing. It made her wonder how that mouth would feel on other parts of her body.

  He kissed her neck, very softly, his mouth hovering over her racing pulse. Then he raised his head, and stared deep into her eyes. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His eyes held her in place. Her heart pounded, and she trembled slightly, but she felt suddenly calm and free, as if she were floating in the ocean, surrounded by water but miraculously able to breathe. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be hypnotized. Maybe that was exactly what he was doing.

  His finger slid down her cheek, leaving a trail of pleasant, tingling warmth. How had her skin become so sensitive? She gasped softly as his hand slid beneath her shirt, and she felt his warm, calloused palm on her breast. His thumb slowly circled her nipple, which was already tight and aching. At his touch, it began to tingle with a sweet warmth that spread slowly outward. Her breasts felt warm and full.

  “You are so damn sexy,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. One hand slid down to cup the small of her back, pulling her against him. She felt the bulge in his pants, pressing against the crotch of her own jeans, against the melting heat between her thighs. He was so hard, so hot. His eyes stared into hers a moment longer, then he pressed his lips against hers once more, harder than before, demanding.

  Maggie had heard the expression “my knees turned to water,” but until that moment, she had never really understood how literal it could be. It wasn’t just her knees, however. Her whole body seemed to turn to liquid, and a wave of sweet dizziness washed over her. She might actually have fallen, if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly against him. His lips devoured hers, his tongue plundered the inside of her mouth. He bit her lower lip lightly. When he finally stopped, her lips were tingling and slightly swollen.

  He pulled back ... then lifted her into his arms. She let out a startled, breathless laugh, clinging to the front of his shirt. “Justin.”

  Without a word, he carried her into the bedroom, as easily as he might have carried a small child. He was silent, his eyes intent and focused on hers. Desire burned in them, hot and bright, as he lay her down on the bed. He stared into her eyes a moment longer. There was a deep and primal hunger in those eyes, an animal intensity. He seemed to be trying to devour her with his eyes alone.

  “Justin,” she whispered again, but could form no other words, not even in her mind. All thoughts had fled, leaving her a whirlwind of feeling.

  His hands gripped her thighs, pushing them apart. A moment later, his fingers were undoing the buttons of her jeans, deftly, swiftly.

  Maggie let out a small moan. Again, she was overwhelmed by that spinning sensation of being on some out-of-control carnival ride.

  His hand slid into her jeans. He laid a rough palm against the front of her white, cotton panties. “You’re soaking through,” he whispered. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband. One fingertip found the aching nub of her clit, making her gasp, and began to slowly, deliciously rub back and forth across it. She pushed upward instinctively, a little moan rising from her throat.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Oh....”

  His calloused fingertip continued to lightly massage her clit, making her dizzy. Liquid warmth seeped from the opening of her sex, trickling slowly down into the cleft between her buttocks. The other hand pushed up her shirt, exposing her breasts. His hot mouth closed over her nipple, sending another hot jolt of desire through her body.

  She wanted him so badly right now. She wanted him to take her, to thrust into her, hard and deep, without restraint. She burned with the need.

  And yet, a part of her cried out that this wasn’t her. She was being swept away, like a leaf in a river, by feelings she couldn’t understand or control. That feeling was drowned out, however, by the thundering river of lust running through her.

  He pulled down her jeans and underwear. The air felt shockingly cool against her exposed pussy.

  He trailed a finger slowly along the length of that wet crease, brushing ever so lightly against the throbbing node of her clit, teasing her. He slid the finger into her tight, wet passage and pushed upward, finding a small, fleshy spot deep inside her, a spot so exquisitely sensitive that she cried out.

  When he withdrew his finger, it was wet and glistening with her juices. He licked it, grinning, a shockingly feral grin, complete with sharp, white fangs. Slowly, he stood and began to undo his belt buckle. His jeans slid down his legs. Her eyes focused on the huge erection straining against the front of his boxers, and her eyes widened.

  Slowly, she reached out to touch the bulge. She heard Justin’s quick intake of breath. His eyes closed as her fingertips caressed the head of his cock through the thin fabric. His breathing quickened. He smiled and, hooking his thumbs beneath the waistband of his boxers, pushed them down, freeing his cock. It was swollen and dark with blood, the veins on the underside standing out in sharp relief.

  She started to reach out again, then hesitated.

  “It won’t bite you,” he said. His voice was low and husky, but he was still smiling. “I promise.”

  “I know,” she said, and wrapped her fingers around the thick length of flesh. She felt its heat, felt the blood pulsing inside. It felt dangerous and thrilling. Like a loaded gun. She licked her lips, eyes focused on the hard organ. Carefully, she slid her fingers along its length, stroking him from base to tip. A deep moan rose from his throat.

  The sound made Maggie’s breathing quicken. She wanted to hear him moan like that again. She closed her fingers more firmly around the base of his shaft and began to stroke it once more, slowly, savoring the feel of it against her palm and fingertips. He moaned again. This time, the sound was deeper, and rippled slightly, like the purr of some huge cat. She looked up. His green-gold eyes seemed to blaze brighter than ever, and tendrils of dark hair clung to his sweat-damp brow and neck.

  His large hands encircled her wrists, pushing her arms down, pinning them to the bed. A moment later, his huge body hovered over hers, filling her vision. She felt something large, hot and smooth pressing against the entrance to her pussy. Then something strange happened. In that moment, the boundaries between their two minds seemed to waver on the verge of dissolving. She was aware of both her feelings and his. She felt his desire, the incredible, bonfire strength of it. He wanted to push himself into her, to feel the tightness and heat of her pussy wrapped around his cock.

  She wanted it, too. She wanted him buried inside her, filling her. And she knew he could feel her want, as she felt his.

  So why did he hesitate?

  Justin’s eyes lost focus. He took a slow, deep breath, and his large body shuddered slightly. He closed his eyes, and suddenly, she was shut off from his mind. She could no longer feel his desire, and the sudden isolation made her feel cold and alone. He bowed his head, as if there were some terrible battle raging within him. “Damn it,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Maggie waited, holding her breath. She could feel him between her thighs. She waited for him to push forward, knowi
ng that if he did, she wouldn’t resist.

  Instead, he withdrew.

  “Justin?” she said, confused.

  He stood with his back to her, taking slow, deep breaths. Then he crouched to pick up his jeans and boxers and began to dress.

  Maggie sat up. “What is it?” she asked. “Is it something I did?”

  “No,” he said. “No. It isn’t you.” He fastened his belt buckle and began to button his shirt, eyes averted. “I’m sorry. I almost made a terrible mistake.”

  She blinked. Her pussy was still wet and aching with need, her whole body tingling with arousal. She wanted to grab him and drag him back to the bed. She tried to clear the fog of lust out of her head, tried to figure out just what he was talking about. “I’m on the pill,” she said. “It’s all right.”

  “It’s not just that.”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s ... complicated.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  He turned to her. For a moment, he didn’t speak, just gave her one of those long, searching looks. “For one thing,” he said, “it would be wrong to take advantage of you like this. These desires you’re feeling might not be your own.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  He sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, not looking at her. The ancient wood creaked faintly beneath him. “When I first became infected with lycanthropy,” he said, “I changed a lot.” He tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair, his shoulders tense. “Not only were my senses a lot sharper and my emotions a lot stronger, I found my sexual desires were more intense than they’d ever been in my life. They became so difficult to manage that I started avoiding people altogether. I was afraid I might do something I’d regret forever.”

  “You mean....”

  He looked her in the eye, his jaw tense. “I was afraid I’d lose control and force myself on someone. There were moments when I wanted to. Moments when I felt like an animal in heat. I had to strengthen my self-control a great deal before I felt comfortable going out among people again. Now ... the desires are no less strong, but I’m more accustomed to them. I can manage them.”

  “But what does that have to do with this?” asked Maggie. “I want this as much as you.”

  “That’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t know if you really want this, or if it’s just the heightened desires that all lycanthropes experience. What might be a slight attraction, if you were human, turns into an all-consuming lust.”

  If you were human. The words were a shock, like a splash of cold water. She looked away. “I am human,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

  “No,” he said gently. “I know it’s hard to accept, but neither one of us is completely human. We’re not less than human--in some ways, we’re more--but we’re different.”

  Her hands curled into fists. “But still, what difference does it make? If the desires are mine, even if they don’t come from my human side, why are they wrong?”

  “They aren’t wrong,” he said. “But you aren’t used to dealing with them yet. I can’t take advantage of you like this. If we have sex now, you’ll end up even more confused, and right now you have more than enough to think about.”

  She sat up straighter. “How can you claim to know that?” she demanded. “You hardly know me!”

  He met her gaze, his own cool and steady. “Because I’ve been there,” he said. “When the beast first awakened in me, I was totally unprepared. I never truly harmed anyone, thank God, but still ... I did things, crazy things, that shock me even now. I don’t want to risk being something that you look back on with shame and regret.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but she felt a flicker of doubt. She’d never experienced anything this intense. What if it was true, what he said? What if it was the beast inside her, amplifying her desires, clouding her thoughts? Maggie had never been the sort of person who would sleep with a near-stranger. Sex meant more to her than that ... didn’t it?

  But damn it, she wanted this so badly.

  “What if I told you that I’m willing to take the risk?” she asked.

  He paused. “I have other reasons for wanting to hold back,” he said. “Personal reasons.”

  Maggie lowered her eyes. Her hands were clenched, her stomach a knot of disappointment. Still, she was forced to acknowledge that he might have a point. Maybe they were both getting in over their heads. “Is it always going to be like this?” she asked. “I mean, am I going to be this ... excitable all the time?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s different for everyone. But becoming a lycanthrope usually brings out certain things that a person has repressed. Things you would never imagine lurked inside you.”

  “Like what?” She wrung the sheets in her hand, twisting them. “I’m not going to turn into some sort of psychopathic killer, am I?”

  “No, nothing like that.” A smile softened his face. “You don’t strike me as the type. Just be prepared for the unexpected.”

  A chill crept up Maggie’s spine. She took a deep breath. “I’ve got to leave soon,” she said. Her voice sounded oddly flat to her own ears. “I have work tomorrow, and it’s a long way home.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “If you could just drive me to the nearest train station or bus station, I’d be all right from there.”

  He nodded. Standing, he picked up her jeans and underwear off the floor and handed them to her.

  Maggie stood and turned away modestly to dress. Her body was still very aroused, and the feel of cotton and denim sliding over her skin almost made her moan. She felt his gaze on her as she buttoned up her jeans, trying to ignore the ache of need between her thighs.

  “What will you do when the next full moon comes?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then let me help you.” He gripped her arm, and she looked up in surprise at the strength of the grip.

  “How?” she asked.

  “You can come back here. You’ll be away from other people, so you won’t have to worry about being discovered, and I can help you through the transformation. I can be there to anchor you.” He paused. “My first transformation was very hard. I didn’t know what to expect, and when it happened, I was in a panic. I don’t want it to be like that for you.”

  She chewed her lower lip. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll come back.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He tore a piece of notebook paper from an old, faded pad on the table and hastily scribbled something on the sheet. “Here’s a number you can reach me at, if you need to.” He pressed it into her hand. “Don’t hesitate to call, for any reason. Okay?”

  Her fingers curled around the bit of paper. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Five

  The next day, at work, Maggie had trouble focusing. Not surprising, she supposed. The past few days kept replaying in her mind. Even now, a part of her still wondered if any of it was real.

  And yet, she couldn’t deny that she had changed. The usual office sounds and smells were all strangely amplified. She was aware of rustling paper, clicking keys, the tick of the big, white clock on the wall. She was overwhelmed by the dry, artificial smells of plastic and new paper, the dusty, musty smell of the carpet, the biting smell of fresh paint where a scratch on the wall had been painted over. The odors seemed to crawl deep into her nose and tingle unpleasantly in her sinuses. Her eyes watered, and she sneezed.

  “Bless you,” said a voice next to her. Raspberry-scented shampoo and the cloying, flowery scent of too much perfume swirled together inside her newly sensitized nose as her manager, Ms. Blick, leaned closer. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?”

  Maggie forced a slight smile. “No, no, I’m fine.”

  “Good.” Ms. Blick smiled. “Did you enjoy your little vacation, by the way?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes. It was fine.” Not counting the part where she’d been attacked by a were-cougar a
nd infected with lycanthropy, of course. But then, if that hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t have met Justin.

  “Well, that’s good,” said Ms. Blick, and smiled brightly before moving on to the next employee. Every day, she made her rounds at the office, checking on employees, making small talk or just glancing at their screens to make sure they were being productive. She called it “proactive managing.” It had always made Maggie edgy. At those times, Ms. Blick reminded her of an enormous hawk, or maybe a vulture, circling the room slowly, surveying everything with her sharp eyes. Maggie knew that was an uncharitable thought to be having, though, and she tried not to think unkind things about people. Her mother had always told her....

  Maggie shook her head, as if to shake the thought free. Why was she always censoring her own thoughts, as if other people could see and disapprove? Other people had too much say in her life as it was. She didn’t need to let their scolding voices into her mind. She wondered why she’d never thought of it that way before.

  The hours crept by, and she kept glancing at the clock. Maggie’s job involved a lot of proofreading, looking over technical manuals for spelling and grammar errors. It was dull work under any circumstances, but today, somehow, it seemed almost unbearable. Her muscles twitched. She felt like ... well, like a caged cougar.

  I’m too smart to be wasting my time at a job like this, she thought. The thought had occurred to her in the past, but it had always felt arrogant, almost blasphemous, somehow. Now, it simply felt true. She wanted to leap to her feet and shout it to the room. Instead, she held her tongue and forced herself to focus on the glowing monitor in front of her.

  The day seemed to last an eternity. By the time she returned to her apartment, she had a headache.

  She rubbed her temples, sighing. She needed some hot tea.

  Maggie filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil. As she waited, her gaze drifted to the scrap of notebook paper stuck to her refrigerator door with a magnet. On the paper, written in a sharp, bold hand, was the number Justin had left for her.