Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [464]
I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. I trusted them. But part of me trusted Jason and Nathaniel more than I trusted their beasts. I tried not to be afraid, because fear is like spice for their meat. Fear excites a lycanthrope, it just does. So I lay very still and tried to calm my heartbeat, tried to think how to ask them to let me go, without sounding like a victim.
Nathaniel moved his hands so that they lay on either side of my body, with the fur of his thumbs caressing my skin. My heartbeat didn’t like it. Neither did I. He flexed his hands again, and the claws vanished into the fur. He caressed that fur down the sides of my body, and that brush of warm, warm fur brought my breath in a shuddering line.
His voice was more growl than anything else, when he said, “I’ve never had hands before when I shifted.” He put those “hands” back on either side of my body, so close that the edge of the fur touched the sides of my breasts. He pointed the claws downward, and I felt his muscles flex against the side of my body. His hands were right next to my breasts, and I felt his claws grip into the bed. He began to pull those claws downward. The sheet ripped, but it was the sound of the mattress tearing that brought a sound like a whimper from my throat. The mattress made a meaty sound, as his claws tore through it, easily. He moved his body so that he could trace the outline of my body against the mattress and sheets. He carved the outline of me with his claws. And I couldn’t not be afraid.
Jason laughed, and strangely that masculine chuckle translated just fine through the wolf’s throat. The sound made me look at him. He flashed fangs as he said, “Don’t be afraid, Anita.”
“Then let me go,” I said, and my voice was nicely calm, barely a tremor. If they’d been human they wouldn’t have been able to taste my speeding pulse, or smell my fear. But they weren’t human.
Nathaniel collapsed his body on top of mine, and he was taller, broader, more muscled, or muscled in places he hadn’t been before. It was like a different body pressed against mine, one I’d never touched. The fur was thinner on his chest, stomach, groin, but the skin was warmer, almost hot against my naked body, as if in this form his blood ran hotter.
He licked my shoulder, and a sound very like a small squeal came out of my mouth. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, just my breathing. Not on the feel of his body, or of Jason’s hands with their not-so-retractable claws tickling my wrists. I breathed, breathed while a tongue that was rougher than Nathaniel’s licked in long, thick sweeps across my shoulders and upper back.
When I opened my eyes again, my pulse was normal, and I realized that Nathaniel was cleaning off the clear goop that he and Jason had gotten on me. He growled next to my ear, “We got you messy.”
“Yeah,” I said, and my voice was a whisper.
He settled his hips against my thighs and did a small, powerful movement, somewhere between a wiggle and a push. He was suddenly resting against my ass, and I could feel that he was different there, too. Bigger, it felt like, but I might just have been scared. Everything seems bigger when you feel threatened.
He made a sound by my face, sort of a snuff, not like he was sniffing me, but like it was a noise that I should have understood. “You’re hungry. Hungry like we are. I can feel it.”
I fought to keep my pulse nice and normal, my breathing even. I wasn’t going to do anything to escalate this, not if I had a choice. “I’m not hungry,” I said.
He leaned harder against me, sliding lower between my legs, not inside, but moving that way. The thought sped my pulse, I couldn’t help it. He rubbed his furred cheek against the side of my face. “You need a shower.”
“Okay,” I said. At that point I’d have agreed to anything that would get me on my feet and out from under the two of them.
“We’re not going to eat you, Anita,” Jason said. “If that was really an option Jean-Claude