Chapter One
“I must be in hell,” he murmured, rolling his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had settled on him. He was still hard. Fiercely. Unforgivingly. Tight and breathtaking. His skin fairly itched with the need to shift, to run away. For a Level-Four Senser, that was simply not an option, especially when he couldn’t outrun the biggest hard-on he’d ever had in his life.
“How can you be in hell with so much skin in your face?” he heard his second ask with an arched brow. The gracefully tall Level-Three Wolf Senser could have made even a woman cringe with envy. His flesh was flawless, his eyes a crystalline blue that rivaled even the earth’s waters from space, and a build that said he ran and lifted twenty-three hours out of a twenty-four-hour day. That he was sprawled with reckless abandon while a rather ambitious low-level Senser bounced bare-assed on his lap, holding on to his cropped midnight hair with all her might, was something only he could achieve.
His cock glistened as he lifted the woman by her ass again and again onto his cock. Her short pixie-cut blonde hair bared her graceful neckline, and Xavier felt the urge to bite slink through him. Her breasts bounced before his face, taunting him. Oron gripped her hips, standing her up. He turned her, his dick shiny and standing erect with blood. The paleness against his dark trousers seemed like an aphrodisiac in itself. As a Wolf, Oron had said he’d often had sex in social gatherings. He’d told Xavier some mumbo jumbo about pack cohesion to explain it. Xavier just figured he was an exhibitionist at heart.
The woman sank back onto Oron’s cock, moaning her pleasure to the club. She leaned back against him, fingering her nipples and twisting them. Oron gripped her by her knees, lifting them and spreading them. Xavier could see how shiny her pussy lips were, swallowing his friend’s cock greedily. Holding her up with his strength, Oron planted his feet and pounded up into her. She screamed, pulling her nipples harder and riding out her pleasure. Oron just pushed harder, chuckling as she screeched, and forcing her legs farther apart.
“Yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck me harder!” She arched her back, snaking her finger down her body to her clit. She flicked it wildly as Oron slammed into her.
The sound of flesh sliding against flesh pulled Xavier’s skin tight. He supposed he should look away, but he forced himself to watch, to try to find some sort of release. His body was wound up so tight he couldn’t find freedom. Oron had felt that perhaps coming to Posh, where sex was sold on a silver platter, and the women looked to fall into a man’s lap at the crook of his finger, would help him. As yet, it had only strung him tighter and tighter, until he could barely move, his cock straining the zipper of his trousers.
“Oron,” Xavier hissed, his teeth clenched hard enough to grind his molars to ash. He could smell the Wolf Senser female nearing her peak.
The dancer had zeroed in on them as soon as they’d entered Posh in Diameter Twelve. She’d wanted Oron, it had been evident. His second, however, had simply sat back, let her climb on him, and put having sex with her in a separate compartment of his brain as he worried about his friend. The woman meant little to Xavier. But her scent, the intoxicating scent of a woman in heat, was tempting to him.
He should have seen the event as a good thing, as he had been unable to lie with any woman satisfyingly for nearly three months. Instead, it simply made his prick harder to slam against a body. His Jag, infuriatingly, made it evidently clear she was not the woman it should be slamming into. He knew better than to ignore the animal that was his other half, the reason that humans hunted them all to near extinction. The damn thing could get rather temperamental.
He hissed, the thought of a human cooling his ardor long enough to watch dispassionately while the dancer screamed as her climax drew
“I must be in hell,” he murmured, rolling his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had settled on him. He was still hard. Fiercely. Unforgivingly. Tight and breathtaking. His skin fairly itched with the need to shift, to run away. For a Level-Four Senser, that was simply not an option, especially when he couldn’t outrun the biggest hard-on he’d ever had in his life.
“How can you be in hell with so much skin in your face?” he heard his second ask with an arched brow. The gracefully tall Level-Three Wolf Senser could have made even a woman cringe with envy. His flesh was flawless, his eyes a crystalline blue that rivaled even the earth’s waters from space, and a build that said he ran and lifted twenty-three hours out of a twenty-four-hour day. That he was sprawled with reckless abandon while a rather ambitious low-level Senser bounced bare-assed on his lap, holding on to his cropped midnight hair with all her might, was something only he could achieve.
His cock glistened as he lifted the woman by her ass again and again onto his cock. Her short pixie-cut blonde hair bared her graceful neckline, and Xavier felt the urge to bite slink through him. Her breasts bounced before his face, taunting him. Oron gripped her hips, standing her up. He turned her, his dick shiny and standing erect with blood. The paleness against his dark trousers seemed like an aphrodisiac in itself. As a Wolf, Oron had said he’d often had sex in social gatherings. He’d told Xavier some mumbo jumbo about pack cohesion to explain it. Xavier just figured he was an exhibitionist at heart.
The woman sank back onto Oron’s cock, moaning her pleasure to the club. She leaned back against him, fingering her nipples and twisting them. Oron gripped her by her knees, lifting them and spreading them. Xavier could see how shiny her pussy lips were, swallowing his friend’s cock greedily. Holding her up with his strength, Oron planted his feet and pounded up into her. She screamed, pulling her nipples harder and riding out her pleasure. Oron just pushed harder, chuckling as she screeched, and forcing her legs farther apart.
“Yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck me harder!” She arched her back, snaking her finger down her body to her clit. She flicked it wildly as Oron slammed into her.
The sound of flesh sliding against flesh pulled Xavier’s skin tight. He supposed he should look away, but he forced himself to watch, to try to find some sort of release. His body was wound up so tight he couldn’t find freedom. Oron had felt that perhaps coming to Posh, where sex was sold on a silver platter, and the women looked to fall into a man’s lap at the crook of his finger, would help him. As yet, it had only strung him tighter and tighter, until he could barely move, his cock straining the zipper of his trousers.
“Oron,” Xavier hissed, his teeth clenched hard enough to grind his molars to ash. He could smell the Wolf Senser female nearing her peak.
The dancer had zeroed in on them as soon as they’d entered Posh in Diameter Twelve. She’d wanted Oron, it had been evident. His second, however, had simply sat back, let her climb on him, and put having sex with her in a separate compartment of his brain as he worried about his friend. The woman meant little to Xavier. But her scent, the intoxicating scent of a woman in heat, was tempting to him.
He should have seen the event as a good thing, as he had been unable to lie with any woman satisfyingly for nearly three months. Instead, it simply made his prick harder to slam against a body. His Jag, infuriatingly, made it evidently clear she was not the woman it should be slamming into. He knew better than to ignore the animal that was his other half, the reason that humans hunted them all to near extinction. The damn thing could get rather temperamental.
He hissed, the thought of a human cooling his ardor long enough to watch dispassionately while the dancer screamed as her climax drew
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