She’d pulled the short straw. Again. Not that she minded the night shifts so much, but on this night? The moon was full, a beacon in the sky calling out to her. And she couldn’t answer. Already, she felt too tight in her skin, trapped behind the store-front glass with only the mannequins for company, the party crowds starting to move out in all the shades of red. Her hands detached a plastic arm, moved on to the other one, a sigh of resignation fanning into the cool store air.
‘Well, at least I get to make you pretty.’ Methodically, the fire-red dress was lowered onto the mannequin’s solid form, the fabric falling to sit beautifully on her plastic perfection. She stroked it with covetous hands, lingering. Nothing ever looked as good on a woman as it did on the dolls she dressed, and when a skim of light cut across the front of the store, it made the shadows shift. Hair prickled on the back of her neck in a chill and she brushed at her skirt self-consciously. Her eyes slanted, glaring accusingly at the darkness beyond the glass. It was distracting to be the focus of something she couldn’t see. It certainly wasn’t the mannequins watching her.
‘Perv,’ she muttered, searching the night and finding the soft lines of a figure deep in the shadow of the opposite building. Definite perv. But...if it was a show he wanted... ‘Perv on this, you sicko.’ Confident he couldn’t identify her in the dark, she moved up onto the mannequin’s pedestal. Her hips ground to a plastic thigh, crawling up on the bald doll and lewdly tongue-kissing its hard mouth. She dragged the dress up its thighs, hitched it up over its ass, flashing the hidden presence a glimpse of mannequin flesh. Her laughter carried through the empty store as a smirk graced her lips in a flash of smug humour. She looked back where the shape had been, but the shadows had disappeared. ‘Damn straight. Weirdo.’ Still snorting laughter, she straightened the molested mannequin and reached for its shoes.
With the jimmied door swinging behind him, Fite crossed the deserted shop floor, prowling boots silent as the grave. Melted into shadow, hooded eyes watched the girl as she rearranged the dress on the dummy, oblivious to the crimson-tinted gaze that tracked every bend and sway of her sheathed curves with predatory intent. Body hard, pulsing and primed for the hunt, he bared sharp canines on a barely audible growl and was across the room in a heartbeat. A wall of muscle at her back, one powerful forearm locked around her throat and the rigid shaft of his cock rode the small of her back. 'Saw something in the window I wanted...’ His snarling breath licked at her ear. No time to protest, he tackled her up against the glass, glossy black hair whipping her shoulders as she struggled to right herself in a splay of palms against the smooth shop-window. ‘I take what I want.’
She was caught before she even realised she was being hunted, prey to a predator that made no sound. Cheek mashed to the cold glass, dominant hands jacked the tight pencil skirt high on her hips as her legs were kicked wide by his knee. A rasp of metal unzipping was loud in the silent store and it drew a low cry from her throat. Exhilaration made her heart race hard and her sex flood with arousal. She knew what he would find when his rough hands clawed the soft flesh of her ass and fingertips met the soaked silk of her panties. She was rewarded for her desire, her underwear shredded in the over-zealous yank of hands battling to possess her.
Her whimper of surprise was a match-strike to the dry lust husking his voice. A low growl rolled up from deep in his throat and he tilted her pelvis until the thick head of his cock was kissing the slick, swollen lips of her sex, his body a threat of taut, honed muscle and musky male arousal crowding her against the window. A steel-taloned fist tamed the wild mess of her hair, torquing her jaw until the animal hunger in his otherworldly eyes met hers, head on. ‘Your name, woman. Say it!’
Far from protesting, she had to struggle for the syllables he wanted. Her body bowed, arched up and straining to get more of him in contact with her skin, fingers clawing into the shiny glass for purchase as her ass wound a ride up the steel ridge of his erection. She was mewling like she was hurting, an ache begging to be filled by him. It would take one word. ‘Mercy...Oh God, please!’
‘No mercy for you, Mercy.’ He punched in, hilt-deep on a powering stroke that smacked up to the soft, yielding rounds of her ass, a snarled curse rising up from his throat as his free hand gripped her hip in a bruising, anchoring claim, the stretching penetration testing her limits and the boundaries of his control. No gentlemanly pace to allow her accommodate to his size, he pistoned into her with vicious, slamming thrusts, thighs slapping, hips pumping a brutal, primal rhythm. She braced the glass, kicking back with wild animal eroticism, taking all he had to give and demanding harder, faster, deeper, an adrenalin-pounding, hammering sprint of fucking that shook the window in its frame.
The raw need tingling a warning down her spine collapsed under the collision. He was inside her, a personification of violent, animalistic lust and potent desire unleashed on soft, more than ready curves. Catching fire on his rhythm, her body gladly took up the pace, a squeak of glass meeting every stroke with violent internal twists as her hips rolled. Hard, bruising, roughly possessive muscle drove into her, over and over, punishing her sex with the thick length of his cock. He took her completely, made her body accept his and with every crack of his hips to hers, he was flicking the switch to an ultimate meltdown. Wild eyes caught on an even wilder reflection: her face, tight with lust, gaze mad with the fever. Can they see us? People drifted by in flocks, huddled against the cold air, but her brain cells were too busy sparking off arousal to care. It was her last thought before he took her higher, drove them harder.
He fisted her hair, pivoting her slender neck...desperate to fucking kiss, fangs and lips barely grazing, the vicious tempo denying him her mouth. His eyes were ablaze with manic lust, sweat breaking over his skin. He was not a male to be denied. Pulling from the liquid satin fist of her core on a snarl, he wheeled her about face and crammed himself between her trembling thighs. Her bare ass slid up the cold glass pane, pinning her for the brutal lock of his hips that nailed the thick, stretching girth of his erection straight to her limits.
She was delirious on the mounting ecstasy, nails raking at the breadth of his shoulders as he pistoned deep, striking to the depths of her quivering core, a rabid dance owning her in an overwhelming beat of relentless thrusts. She whined for him, lips wet, parting for the slanting graze of his mouth. ‘Yes!’ That’s what she needed. Possessive tongue and sharp teeth made her so hot she expected the glass fused to her spine to do the impossible and melt with her. She was cracking, so close to splintering around his cock that her breath panted out in husky purrs and she dragged at him. More...
The glass fogged, enveloping them in a mist of raw, sexual energy. Metal-tipped fingers tunnelled into her hair, the heels of his hands framing her high cheekbones as he growled hot plumes of lust to her mouth through lips parted by massive canines. Hips kicking deep, he rode her spine up the squeaky pane, moving inside her, thrusting harder, a vicious, glass-cracking, flesh-slapping tempo that ratcheted up the pressure until it was uncontainable. His thighs locked, spine curling, and on a growl edged with insanity his fangs struck deep into the tender yield of her neck, mainlining liquid ecstasy through her body as the mind-altering orgasmic waves nailed him inside of her, over and over and fucking over again.
Pain injected pleasure straight into her bloodstream with the slicing lock of his teeth and her hips jerked at the pulse of eroticism linking his bite to her sex. Euphoria was a blazing head-rush and Mercy clung to him, her lifeline in the tidal storm of release that crashed through her, her orgasm rushing to join with the surges of his. There was no getting enough of him, every thrust of his hips punching her into another climax, surging him deep and locking him into the velvet vice of her. They were passion...fury...desire...glass and muscle embracing pooling curves as she seized in the oblivion of ecstatic bliss.
His words were drugged, murmured against her throat in a purr. ‘Next time, don’t make me hunt you down, Mercedes.’
She couldn’t contain her laughter, breathless and rough and her fingers sifted dreamily through the damp silver of his hair. ‘Maybe I like being hunted by you.’
As condensation crept from the window, the gathered crowd of shadows slowly moved away, melting into the night and its full moon erotic promise.
Raven and Black's paranormal romance novel BECOMING RED is available from Amazon HERE