Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(20)

The look made him wonder how Chris had resisted answering his message.


"No more teasing," Chris said like sandpaper. "This time I'm going to suck you until you come."

His pupils had changed. Within the orange glow of his irises, the slits were more catlike. This thrilled Tony more than he knew how to hide. His hands tightened helplessly on Chris's head.

"Yes," he said. "Please."

Chris's smile was feral. He stretched his tongue out between his fangs, making sure Tony got the best possible visual of its pinkness dragging up and over him.

"Shit," he gasped, feeling a strange difference. Chris's tongue was rougher, more textured against his skin. "What the hell did you do?"

Chris chuckled, low and dirty, leaving Tony to guess the answer.

Cats weren't like wolves. They didn't need the moon to change; they could shift any time they pleased. Lengthened teeth or shining eyes were common shifter reactions to excitement. Chris altering his tongue to have more feline traits wasn't something Tony had known a cat could do. Maybe most cats couldn't.

Maybe Chris was special.

He moaned as the tiger began sucking him full throttle. The chair scraped back as Chris scooted forward to perch on its edge. He was going fast, and his tongue was busy. Tony was going to f*ck his mouth. His cock longed for that so much he didn't think he could stop himself. His hands tightened on Chris's head. His ears were between his palms. He was pulling him down his prick, forcing him to take more of him.

"Fuck," he gasped, trying to stop himself.

Chris wrapped one massive arm behind Tony's thighs, refusing to let him escape his own urges. His bobbing head bumped Tony's stomach through his tuxedo shirt. Despite the crazy groans Tony was letting out, he heard Chris jerk off faster. The sound of his grip clicking on sweat and flesh was incredibly arousing. Unable to resist, Tony shoved his hips at him harder. Chris grunted and took him, swallowing against the tip so that Tony's cock went even further down his throat.

It felt amazing--sexy and sweet and totally accepting.

Tony's come exploded.

As it did, Chris's fist sped up manically. With Tony taken care of, the tiger wanted his own climax. Tony wasn't about to miss watching. He'd spread his legs to brace himself for Chris's blowjob. Now he shook his head to clear his pleasure-blurred vision. Chris was pointing his stiff erection toward the space between Tony's feet, his hand streaking up and down. His mouth was clamped around Tony's cock, though Tony had stopped thrusting. Chris breathed through his nose, uneven huffs of a man lost to everything but his need for release. His fangs were hard, his big body tense. Suddenly, he moaned around Tony and cut loose.

Long bursts of seed spattered the floor of the gardener's shed.

The noise of them hitting sent pleasurable spasms through Tony, like Chris had the power to share his ecstasy. Each mini-thrill weakened already wobbly knees--though of course it was worth it. Finally, both of them finished quivering.

Wow, Tony thought, grateful for the support of the worn wood wall. Without it, he might not have stayed standing. He wondered why Chris wasn't pulling off. Then he realized he was clutching his head to him.

"Sorry," he said, immediately letting go.

Chris wiped his mouth and straightened in the chair.

"I've got a pocket square," Tony said.

Chris smiled like this was a silly thing to offer.

"No?"

"You tasted good," he said simply.

That was flattering, Tony guessed. He didn't know how to interpret Chris's current expression. His glimmering smile had faded, and he'd closed his features down like Fort Knox. Tony wasn't expecting hearts and flowers, but the change knocked him off balance. Aware that he'd been extremely well serviced, he tucked his cock away and zipped up. Chris rubbed his knees and half watched.

"Are you sorry we did that?" Tony asked, finding Chris's man-of-few-words habit frustrating.

Chris pushed the folding chair back and rose. He shook his head, somehow not making it a no. He looked down at himself and wagged it again. His cock was thick but as well sated as Tony's. Tony definitely watched him put himself away, no halfway about it. He wanted to store up the image of that yummy length of man flesh.

His trousers set to rights, Chris pulled on his tuxedo jacket. His breathing was almost normal. As a rule, shifters recovered from exertion quicker than normal folks. He'd swallowed Tony's ejaculate and had been careful not come on himself. Once he wiped the sweat off, it would be difficult to tell what he'd been up to.

Maybe he hadn't been as uninhibited as Tony thought.

"I should get back," Chris said, shrugging his big shoulders into position within the black garment. "Before someone notices I'm gone."

Tony hoped he wouldn't kick himself later for opening his mouth now.

"Okay," he said, dragging the other man's gaze to him. "I get it. If you're spotted alone with me, your men will get suspicious. I understand being outed would make your job harder."


"That's . . . understating it," Chris said.

"You can really pretend this never happened?"

"I'm going to try to."

"Hell."

"You're dangerous," Chris explained, a hint of a plea in it. "I don't think I can sneak around with you like I . . ." He trailed off.