Instinct by LeTeisha Newton Page A

near. Heat returned as he smelled her flesh, felt her need, felt Oron’s as well. Oron pushed into her harder and harder, pushing her toward climax and nearing his. With a final shove, she screamed her climax into the throbbing club and slumped onto Oron’s lap.
    “Pretty,” Oron whispered, distracting Xavier’s thoughts. With a careful but strong grip, he lifted the woman away from him and pushed her into the waiting arms of a waiter. “Take her to her rooms to recoup.”
    With a shake, and not even a small backward glance to the woman who was being carried away from him, he turned on his leader, tucking his cock away absentmindedly.
    “This is supposed to be helping,” Oron said then slowly. “Coming here was to find a woman for your Jag to sate itself with so we could get on with business.”
    As the leader of the Sensers who had congregated on Diameter Twelve in Acvaria to escape prosecution and death from the hands of the very beings they had once protected from the shadows, Xavier had little time to care for himself. His entire existence was devoted to the protection of his people, and the express hatred of humans. His kind had protected them for eons, but when they’d become public, they were shunned. Now only fear, hatred, and violence remained.
    Acvaria had become a world of nearly primitive existence for a time. Only areas where Sensers resided were well developed and functioning. The humans had hated their advancement. His ancestors had begun being murdered, much like the long-ago, nearly forgotten Civil Rights Movement of Earth.
    In three short decades since his step into the mantle of leader, he had made the Sensers a household name for the top of security, infiltration, and mercenary work. He was richer than the long-dead Onassis, and stronger than the weak human president. He had many more years to live. Sensers, with a residual quirk from the Fates, often lived for several hundred years. That his cock was driving him insane and was going to kill him when his own people’s plight had not was simply ludicrous.
    “I smell them,” he growled, fangs slowly extending in his salivating mouth. His tongue felt thick. If he moved it the wrong way, one of his canines would splice it in two, he was sure.
    “I can taste their essence in the air, feel their hormones against my skin. Shit, O, my dick is hard enough to evaporate the nearest woman that takes it on, but none of them, not a single fucking one, is impressing him .”
    He didn’t have to elaborate on who him was. As a Wolf Senser, capable of shifting into the ethereal form of a massive wolf, or a hybrid of both man and animal, Oron understood the demands of the other half. It had been a standing joke between them that since Xavier was Feline, Oron’s Wolf was following the pussy. Shifted, they still had to keep iron control of their other halves so that they wouldn’t instinctually fight. Natural enemies and yet best friends.
    While some Sensers could control a certain element or had other powers of coercion, shifters were rare. The Fates had grown tired of their vigil over the human race. They gave birth to the Sensers to protect the charges that the old gods had forgotten from the threads of time and the wombs of Oracles. Sensers’ levels were determined by the strength of their Oracle mothers or, in rare cases, gaining superior control over their powers through use. Many Sensers couldn’t even pass zero, let alone reach the heights of four. Xavier was the only one they had now. His own inner circle was comprised of Level-Two Toxins, Sensers who could spew biological weapons with a well-pointed shot, and a Level Three, Oron, who stood at Xavier’s right as beta.
    When they had gone public after the end of the world had obliterated the old ways, the humans had not welcomed them. They systematically hunted down the Oracle mothers, killing them, and so killing the Oracle mothers’ lines as well. The few Oracle mothers who remained were protected