Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(10)

Then he slammed his cock in with all his might.

The force was exactly what Tony's wolf needed. Tony went off like grenades were detonating, his climactic cry ragged. Chris returned the shout a second later, heat and wetness pumping hard into his passage.

Shifters didn't come like mundanes. When they were wound up, they could go multiple times a night. They could also pack half a dozen orgasms into one. That's what seemed to be happening now, both of them grinding, shooting, gasping for air in a frenetic drive to grab for the whole release.

The thing was a breath stealer. Tony couldn't believe the strength of his pleasure. Torrents rolled through him, one after the other. Chris wasn't feeling it any less. Growling like a true beast, he sank his fangs into Tony's shoulder, his claws pricking his butt cheeks. Tony doubted he was treating Chris's barn-door back any more kindly.

The freedom to do this with a partner he truly wanted overwhelmed his emotions. Snarling with a strange mix of pain and ecstasy, he drove his body up his impaler's. His prostate gland spasmed.

"Fuck," Chris gasped, and they shot one final burst of seed together.

The glow that swallowed him afterward was as wonderful as the climax. Giddy, Tony collapsed against the bed, disengaging from Chris in the process. His chest was sticky with his own come, his * pulsing with aftershocks. Blood trickled down his shoulder even as Chris's tooth marks healed.

Being mauled by a tiger was sexier than Tony could have imagined.

"Oh man," he said weakly.

Chris tried to hold his weight off Tony but his arms gave out. Tony discovered he had just enough strength to wrap his legs around him.

"I'm squashing you," Chris objected.

Snorting with amusement, Tony patted his sweaty back. "Who do you think you're lying on, cat man?"

Chris mumbled something he couldn't decipher. His head was next to Tony's, face down on the covers. Smiling, Tony lazily stroked his close-cropped hair. The tiger should grow it longer. It was a great color.

"Want a shower?" he offered.

"Too tired," Chris said. He wriggled sideways until his weight was at least half off him. "That was fast. Next time we'll take longer."

Next time, Tony repeated to himself. Warmth spread through his relaxed body, adding a pleasant layer to his bone-deep languor from orgasm. Loving the velvet feel of the tiger's skin, he slid his hand to Chris's nape, cupping the corded column of his neck as his eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

Next time was a nice thing to say, he thought.

~

Chris knew he shouldn't fall asleep where he was but couldn't bring himself to move. The sex they'd had was the most amazing he'd ever experienced. Mind you, he'd had good sex. Sneaking around and not getting it very often tended to whet the appetite. Tonight had been different. Tonight had been euphoric.

Even now his exhausted cock hummed with pleasure. Tony had made him come like Vesuvius. To his dismay, he'd inspired other things as well. Chris liked to dominate bed partners, but as a rule he tried not to bite them. At the least, he didn't approve of drawing blood. He'd done both to Tony, without a hope of resisting. His cat's needs had pushed him to it, which did not sit comfortably. Controlling his primal urges meant quite a lot to Chris. His only consolation was that Tony had scratched him up as well.

He truly wouldn't have guessed he and the young wolf would set off those fireworks.

It was possible Tony's newness to f*cking men explained the intensity. He certainly had been into everything Chris did. Actually, he'd been into Chris period. Chris's cock twitched with memory. That blowjob the kid had started off with hadn't been bad at all.

He smiled as his brain spiraled slowly into the black hole of sleep. Tony seemed to be drifting too. His warm hand went limp behind Chris's neck, though it didn't drop completely. He guessed Tony didn't want to let go of his new toy.

Puppy . . . was Chris's too-fond final conscious thought.





CHAPTER TWO


BLACK smoke clung to the ceiling in the apartment's hall as if announcing a coming storm. Company No. 5--Chris and Evina's station--had been called to a four-story residence fire. The serious blaze was at three alarms. Station 12 was venting the roof in hopes of luring the oxygen-greedy fire away from Search and Rescue's route. Most of the building's tenants were huddled in the street.

Chris and his team were hunting down the rest.

Though the fire wasn't magic-fed, it was nasty. Scorching temperatures licked at Chris through his protective gear. Even his feet were sweltering, his spell-strengthened turnout boots transmitting heat from the floor.

If that weren't enough of a challenge, visibility was crap.

Billows of gray mist blocked what light came in from the windows, and the power was out. Swaddled in their big coats and SCBA masks, Chris's men were hulking shadows among the gloom. That is, they were shadows when they were close enough to see. When they weren't, the best way to find each other was by shouting.


"RFD!" Liam bellowed behind Chris. The rookie was checking the right-hand units, leaving the left to Chris. "Call out if you're inside!"

A lock-busting backward kick from Liam's boot followed. Light flickered brighter. The apartment the kid had breached had a pocket of fire inside.

"No life signs, Liam." Evina's calm and weirdly distant voice came through their helmet comms. "Move on to the next unit."