Chapter 25
Cheribelle
The Perfect Nightcap
BANG!
My front door slammed into the wall hard enough that I heard one of my many picture frames clatter to the floor, but I didn’t give a fuck. And that was probably because Paul’s teeth were nipping at my lips, the gentlest of bites as we stumbled through the entrance of my house.
“Sorry,” he murmured into my mouth, but I only replied by pushing him with my body until he was against the wall. I knew he was approximately a billion times stronger than me and could lift me off my feet and deposit me on the credenza if he wanted, but he let me bully him just long enough while he blindly reached out and closed the door.
“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that?” he asked me as I tried to press him into the wall, my nails already sinking into his sides. I had to admit it was a lot less intense with my human fingers through his clothing compared to the claws I knew he could grow.
“Yeah, it is,” I answered, breaking our kiss to grin cheekily up at him. “What’re ya gonna do about it?”
“This,” he said before picking me up and whirling me around so thatIwas the one pressed against the wall.
If I was giddy when we got to the skate park, I was over the moon now, practically drunk on a cocktail of happy chemicals from our time together trying to get Paul to balance on the board, and also for just getting to hang out and laugh like we were regular folks. If I thought Paul was insanely hot while we were running around and solving crimes, he was somehow even more so when we were playing like we were average people. It spoke of a future that I’d never thought was for me, and also never thought I was interested in.
Boy, was I wrong on that!
“Come on, is that all you got?” I teased, wrapping my legs around his waist and squeezing my muscled thighs as hard as I could. For most people, that would have been quite painful. But when dating a shifter, it turned out that you could be a whole lot rougher than you’d think.
Lucky me!
The rumble that issued from Paul’s chest was just as good as any vibrator I’d ever had, but he also could kiss me and tell me I was a good girl. And that’s exactly what he did, making that fluttering feeling in my stomach go from exhilarating to a downright inferno.
I had no idea how long we stayed in my foyer, pinned as I was, nails raking down his back while he dominated my mouth, but it was a damn good time. And that good time grew even better as he finally pulled me away and carried me over to my reading table.
I hadn’t used it since I’d first met Paul, and there really was no reason for it now considering I was no longer pretending to be something I wasn’t. So, when he sat me down on it and my crystal ball got knocked off its stand, rolling to the side to crash on the floor, I could only laugh.
“Sorry… again,” Paul murmured, already kissing his way down the side of my neck and grazing his teeth against the spot where it met my shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t need it anymore.”
Because I really didn’t. I’d spent far too long believing my abilities weren’t enough, that I had to live up to a precedent my mother never wanted for me. Strange, how she had never been anything but completely supportive, yetIwas the one who had convinced myself I wasn’t enough. That an empath could never follow in the footsteps of a precognitive.
I was foolish. And if one day my spirit ever got to rejoin with my mother, I was going to hug her and apologize for being so unkind to the daughter she’d loved and raised.
But for now, I was hoping to see heaven in an entirely different way.
And Paul was the one issuing my round-trip ticket.
He sucked on my neck, and I got the distinct impression that he enjoyed marking me, as it wasn’t really something that existed for shifters outside of mating bonds. It was just another way we were compatible, because Ilovedthose little bruises way more than the ones I still had lingering under my foundation. Instead of being signs of violence, they were physical, colorful proof of pleasure and enjoyment.
And boy was I enjoying it.
I groaned, and although it was only our third time participating in this particular activity, I already knew what noises to make to get him to go really feral. And while I realized that the sharp teeth, claws, and his dominant nature wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, to me they were better than any energy drink I could ask for. He grounded me at the same time that he stimulated me. He flooded my brain with dopamine but also let my thoughts finally calm down so they weren’t all layered on top of each other and twisted like a bowl of yarn.
It was more than I could ever ask for, but he opened the door to allow me to ask anyway.
Well, it was more likedemandingit, but that was half the fun of being a brat!
“More,” I urged as his teeth again ghosted over that spot that meant so much in his culture. And it didn’t matter that I didn’t actually have a gland that he could puncture there. What mattered was that hewantedto. “Bite me. Bite mehard.”
“Cherry,” he growled, and ooh, a girl could get used to how he said my name—as well as the plumes of so many colors, I couldn’t list them all out. It was more than a rainbow of emotion; it was an entire kaleidoscope ranging from the palest pastels to the richest neons, and it was all forme.
“Do it. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”