Page 46 of Tail Me No Lies
He tightened his grip on her neck and leaned down to whisper, “Love to hear you beg.”
“Nox—”
He pushed into his mate. Velvet heat surrounded him, holding him tight. Still holding onto her neck, his other hand rested at the top of her ass, where her tail would be if she had one. Slowly, he pulled back, dragging his length along every inch of her, then surged forward. She gasped, then moaned.
His claws popped. He eased his grip, not wanting to pierce her skin too badly. She already wore his scratches. The sight of them decorating her body filled him with a possessive joy, even knowing the scratches would heal and fade. He wanted—needed—to leave a permanent mark. This remarkable female was his.
He leaned down, pressing his mouth to her shoulder. He licked the area where his claiming bite would go. She’d look so pretty with the scar, and everyone would know she carried his heart.
He pumped fiercer and harder. The desperate urge to bite nearly overwhelmed him. His mouth watered and his fangs itched, scraping against her skin. He belonged to her. The truth of it rang in his soul. Yet he could not. What did he have to offer? Half a name. Their situation was temporary. He knew that from the start.
His tail lashed violently behind him. Ruth’s fingers clawed at the countertop. She rocked against him, moaning with pleasure, then her entire body stiffened. An anguished cry of ecstasy tore from her lips as she climaxed.
Mouth still latched onto her shoulder, he growled. His release came on him fast, racing down his spine and erupting when it reached his tail. He emptied deep into her, coating her. He might not be able to leave a claiming mark on her, but she would carry his scent.
That would have to be enough for now.
* * *
Ruth saton the back porch as the sun rose over the horizon, cradling a mug of kava. Sunlight caught on gold and red highlights in her dark brown hair. With one leg curled under her on the padded bench and an oversized shirt falling down one shoulder, she looked utterly at peace.
The back of the house overlooked a meadow of tall grass. Yellow wildflowers scattered throughout the expanse like pieces of gold. The field sloped gently down to a cluster of trees that partially hid the pond, a place Nox in particular favored.
“This is a pleasing view,” he said, leaning against the doorway.
“The wildflowers came in really thick this year.”
“That’s not the view I meant,” he replied, his gaze fixed on her.
She blushed, turning her face away to hide it but not before Nox caught her smile. It was brighter than any sunrise.
ChapterFourteen
Nox
Nox removed the tarp,sending up a cloud of dust. Something small and furry scurried across the ground. Little Hunter dashed after the creature.
He had spent weeks hunting for the reason Geral wanted the property and had little to show for his trouble. At first, Nox suspected that the land had valuable mineral deposits. He searched for a surveyor’s assessment in the old professor’s cluttered office. Or an offer of purchase from some property developer.
No joy. If the answer to the male’s obsession were on a piece of paper, Nox failed to locate it.
Perhaps Geral searched for a valuable item, either hidden or lost. Nox had scoured the property over the last month, starting with the house and expanding to the outbuildings. So far, he found a lot of junk. No hidden caches. Nothing under the floorboards. The number of safes behind paintings? Zero. No locked trunks in the attic and nary a strongbox to be found. The well-stocked library held no secret diaries or treasure maps.
Nox flipped through notebook after notebook filled with the professor’s tidy writing. Nothing. Not even a hint. He wasn’t sure what he expected, honestly. Any valuable item in the house would have been discovered long ago.
He expanded his search to the other buildings on the property. Mostly they were filled with a mix of aging farm equipment and nonfunctional science paraphernalia. So far what he discovered was only valuable as scrap, until now.
This was interesting.
Tucked against a wall and hidden under a tarp, he discovered a hypercycle. A very old one. The two-wheeled vehicle looked like a modern hypercycle, although it probably had some old-fashioned name. A velocipede, although he believed those lacked a motor. He wasn’t a historian.
The vehicle was gorgeous with an elegant, sleek frame. Chipped white paint revealed the matte gray fiberglass underneath. That hardly mattered. Gold accents scrolled along the side like flames. Far too heavy, the vehicle had been built for comfort, and Nox was a huge fan of comfort. The tires looked to be in good condition. The leather on the seat had dried and cracked with neglect, but Nox already spotted bottles of soap and conditioner. No doubt the contents had long since dried up.
What was this doing on a farm? This was a vehicle meant for speeding through congested urban streets.
Nox cleared away the remaining clutter and walked the vehicle out of the storage building.
The sunlight did it no favors. The gold looked tired and corroded. A yellowish tint sullied the white. The whole thing desperately needed a good scrub and a new coat of paint. It was a beast.
