fingernails, into his shoulders.
Ambrielle rose into his every stroke, forcing him deeper into her pussy, driving herself down on him until he could go no farther, then lifting herself up slightly so he could plunge in again.
She was a wonderful partner, alert to his every wish, actively making every little aspect of their mating more erotic, more powerful, more memorable.
He pushed one hand between their bodies, pinching a nipple, and her cunt gripped his cock as she came around him. Oscar bent his knees then slammed up into her. Her body banged back against the door and he had a brief second to hope she hadn’t hit her head, then the door smashed inward. His thrust propelled them the few feet into the closet and Ambrielle’s back hit the rear wall as his cock exploded inside her. Her legs continued to grip his waist, her cunt gripped his cock, and her shoulders heaved.
Horrified that she might be injured, he brushed her hair off her face. “Ambrielle, Oh God, you aren’t hurt?”
Instead her eyes were filled with laughter and her lips were pulled together tightly as her face shone with mirth. Wordlessly she shook her head, then buried her face against his shoulder as silent laughter racked her body.
For a moment he stood still, then he laughed, too. They were both still locked together, both still climaxing, and all around them lay smashed woodwork.
Oscar sensed someone behind him, turned his head, and saw it was Danny. A Danny with a huge grin on his face, too. “Oh well, that closet had to be demolished anyway. Should I go get some tweezers? Likely you’ll both have some splinters in your butts.”
“That was fun, but next time let’s use a bed,” said Ambrielle. But he knew she wasn’t cross. Her face was still alight with happiness. What a wonderful woman. How many women in the world were there who would laugh after that happened to them? Only one. Only one woman in the whole world and she belonged to him and Danny. Their Ambrielle. How amazing was that!
Reluctantly he pulled out of her. “Unfortunately Danny is likely to be right. We’ll need to check your skin for splinters. And bruises. Is your head all right? Did it get banged?”
Suddenly Oscar felt guilty. Here he was laughing when he should be caring for her. He was a doctor, for fuck’s sake, and he was acting like a ten-year-old or a clown. He was supposed to care for her and protect her, not smash up the closets.
She was still smiling, not blaming him at all. Holding her hand he led her back to the middle of the room. This time she’d taken no offence at his actions, but he really needed to act like an adult. A Dom, for fuck’s sake.
* * * *
Ambrielle found it hard to believe she’d been working at the clinic for over a month. In some ways it seemed like she’d been there forever. She knew all the staff, their names, their positions, whether they were shape-shifters or humans, and felt they were her friends. She enjoyed the work she did, loving the way people were brought in hardly able to stand or walk, or in bad pain, and within a few days or a week or two they were moving better, able to get out of bed, in some cases even going for a run to the lake and back.
That was Oscar’s standard fitness test, asking a shape-shifter to run to the lake and back. If they arrived back out of breath or sweaty they had to stay another day or two. Ambrielle had treated that as a personal challenge, and ran to the lake and back herself every day now, just to make sure she wasn’t getting too unfit herself.
She knew Oscar’s cousin George was challenging the will, wanting the house for himself, and at times she worried that he’d succeed. But as far as she could tell from Google, Oscar’s position was unassailable. A person had the right to leave their property as they chose and fairness had nothing to do with it. It was like a birthday gift. There was no law saying anyone had to give all their relatives a birthday or holiday gift of
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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